Hey y'all welcome to the absolute dumpsterfire of my brainrot (blog), you can call me Corvid or Harbinger
Ima lover of all things Norman Reedus, n obviously TWD + Daryl Dixon. I also really like crows, and Qrow Branwen from RWBY – hence my user
Below is my masterlist that I'll update w/ time, then more about me. I lurked on here for way too long
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♡ = Sweet ♧ = Angsty ♤ = Smutty
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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 ♡
➳ Drabbles:
Daryl w/ Hazey by GA ♧
Mother's Day ♡ ♤
Purring ♡ ♤
Hip Bones ♤
Lazy Morning Sex ♤
Daryl Likes Puzzles ♡ ♧
Falling Asleep in Sex ♡ ♤
Shibari ♡ ♤
Father's Day ♡ ♧
➳ Short Stories:
I Like It Long ♤
Double The Fangs, Double The Fun ♤ (vamp + Scud)
Daddy's Little Dhampir ♡ ♧
Intruders ♡ ♤
Total Eclipse Of The Heart ♡
What One Has ♡ ♧
𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡 "𝐒𝐜𝐮𝐝" 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐫 ♡
➳ Drabbles:
Scud's a Nerd ♡
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Requests; are currently open for Daryl & Scud
Req info (please read before sending in 💛)
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➳ Feel free to send me inboxes about other things too!; questions, comments, chatty stuff, etc. I love interacting with y'all!!
➳ I'm kinda a beginner writer (?), I've been doing creative writing for ages + fanfics for myself, this is just my first time posting n stuff
➳ This'll center around Daryl/Norman because he lives in my psyche and I love him
➳ Ima chronic overuser of the 😭, 🙏, 🗿, and ‼️ emojis
➳ English is my main/native language, but I'm also fluent in Spanish
➳ I believe A&W restaurants are a national treasure and I need more of them
➳ According to everyone I know I have a weird accent and dialect and I will admit I do (idk wtf it's even composed of so if I ever say something that makes absolutely no sense or sounds stupid it's probably that)
➳ I am wildly interested in the mechanics of reality and metaphysical things
➳ Aside from TWD & Norman related things, I'm also a lover of RWBY, Lost, House n much more
➳ Frankly I'd just love to engage with y'all on here, so many of you are so talented n I love your works 🫶
Since I made a post about Mother's Day w/ Daryl, I gotta make a Father's Day one too.
For obvious reasons, he didn't like Father's Day (me neither Daryl). It felt insulting to see people celebrating their dads, felt so forced and unfair, stupid even. How come other people got to have fathers who were there for them and cared for them while he didn't? What made him undeserving of that? (Mother's Day was already hard enough when he was young, sitting in class and nearly trembling from how hard he was straining himself to not cry while those around him made cards and talked about their plans for the weekend with their moms) So he tried to push the existence of the holiday out of his mind.
Fatherhood was never something he pictured. Even when the hypothetical idea of kids crossed his mind, he was sure it would never be plausible: he'd just follow footsteps and end up some doped up abusive deadbeat as well. Although he never pictured an apocalypse with the undead either, and that pushed the idea of fatherhood even further into a realm of impossibility.
So both those happening, and someone as perfect as you being directly involved in it, was leagues outside his imagination.
The first Father's Day after your child was born was rough. He enjoyed how the collapse of society made people lose track of the dates, too occupied with survival to care about minor things like this. But with the stability Alexandria provided, over time celebrations reintegrated into routines, this included, and he was not fond of the reminder.
He didn't mention the day at all leading up to it, or of, continuing his ignorance and hoping it'd slip your mind. He knew it wouldn't: you were too attentive and appreciative of him to miss any excuse to celebrate and congratulate him no matter the context.
But you threaded lightly, knowing it'd be touchy and let most the day pass by as any other would, just being extra sweet on him. You never wished him a ‘Happy Father's Day’, instead when you were going to bed that night thanking him for being a father, for everything he did for you and your daughter and how good he was at it.
He ended up just breaking down, falling apart in your hold and attempting to bury himself in you the same way he tried to bury so much else.
The next couple years were largely similar; little acknowledgement to the day, but extra acknowledgements to him. It was your daughter that started to make it more distinctive. A little older now, she saw the other kids in the community making little gifts and cards for their fathers the same way they did for mothers on the respective day. Even those who didn't have dads made them in memoriam.
So of course she did it too, she loved her daddy and did those things all the time anyway. Why not do it when it's even more special? She didn't even tell you about it, secretly assembling it all herself.
You shared Daryl's surprise when she presented her crafts, repeatedly saying the token phrase you'd held off from using. He was mostly frozen for a moment, trying to just see her and this singular day rather than previous decades of Father's Day's that came before, all negatively tinted and crossed out from his personal calendar.
He accepted it all, and her innocent recognition of the holiday's purpose. Though the urge flared up in some part of him, he couldn't shut her down. She meant well, and wasn't to blame for his rocky relationship with the day and his own father. He wouldn't create reason for her to despise the holiday too, and how could be cold to the human embodiment of sunshine while her toothy smile was beaming at him?
He put her to bed that evening, spending an extra while stroking her hair and admiring how peaceful she looked while sleeping. Despite the state of the world, she had the privilege to not only sleep, but feel safe while doing so. And he's what allowed that; gave her that.
She got to feel safe from all the horrors he'd seen: the walkers, blood, guts, violence, death, immorality, all the disturbing things about life that were amplified by the apocalypse.
But more importantly, she felt safe with him.
She got to excitedly jump on him while he was still asleep in the morning, roll around and shake him till he finally got up. She got to play with him in the dirt while out in the yard, or sit him down with jewelry and accessories surrounded by stuffed animals and toy dinnerware. She got to chase him around and bombard him with curious questions and learn everything she could from him.
She got to make messes and break things, make mistakes, and know he'd always help her clean or fix them.
She got to show her emotions and be a kid and cry, and know he would always hold and soothe her, wipe away her tears and do anything to make sure she was okay.
And she never knew a different response. She never knew the yelling or insults, the degradation, the mockery, the beatings and burnings and whippings. She got to fall asleep by her father's side, lulled to rest by his comforting voice, be in the most vulnerable state a person could be, and know that the last thing he would ever do was hurt her; the idea – the worry – of him hurting her did not exist in her mind.
Daryl'd crumbled to tears by the time he returned to you that night, collapsing into your arms the way he did every time the reality of being a parent hit him. He would never truly understand how he got to this point in life, how every unfathomable thing – good and bad – had genuinely occurred and this is what was real.
From the instant you found out you were pregnant, he'd promised you, promised himself, and promised his child he would always be the father he'd wanted, that he'd deserved, that his kid deserved and that every child deserves. He healed his own childhood by assuring his daughter'd have a good one, and that he'd be regarded as a good part of it.
She made Father's Day something that could actually be ‘happy’ for him.
The daddy issues hit a little too hard while writing this
I fr don't know where the last week of my life went I just remember watching Lost 🗿
It's not even so much so in the kinky way for physical restraint and all that, but more in a sort of artistic or therapeutic way. Given his background in hunting, tracking and survival skills n whatnot, he already had talent in tying all sorts of knots – so it'd only make sense.
He played around with it when he was younger, and would sit with some yarn or other thin string, alone at whatever random shack he was currently crashing at, just practicing winding it around one of his hands, weaving over his wrist for a cuff, or incorporating his fingers and back of his hand into it – and as he grew more understanding of it, up his forearm, and maybe his thighs at some point too.
It's a sort of fidget for him. He's able to let his mind go and just focus on tying the knots in specific spots and creating intricate patterns and designs. It's relaxing, draws his thoughts into a craft and pushes back against all the intrusive ones. It quickly became something he could do subconsciously, so he uses it to help him think; clears his mind of everything else by keeping his hands busy so he can put attention to more important things.
Obviously he couldn't really do this once the apocalypse happened (he'd rather a walker bite him than someone catch him doing something viewed as taboo, plus you need to be able to up and move very suddenly) – so he swapped to tying and braiding large blades of grass & the young bark from trees.
He'd do a little at the prison during the timeskip, but wouldn't settle back into it till the post-Savior era. It took some readjusting because of all the times being tied up had been used against him in malicious manners post-apocalypse, but he worked to reclaim it and have it be something he could seek solace in again.
You'd learn about it eventually, once your friendship stretched to a relationship and was very deep and sturdy. He'd be so nervous and embarrassed to tell you since, again, it's a generally sexual thing, but it's not inherently like that for him and he didn't want you to think he was weird for it.
But when it came to involving you in it; that took even longer. He wouldn't be open to it at least until long after the Savior war – once things had kinda settled down: you had a secure place to live, a good network of people, and there wasn't a sense of an impending threat every day. You had some peace, and more importantly time.
Maybe it'd start with you two on a run together; you're in a hardware or outdoor supplies store, gathering bundles of rope and you'd make a joke about him tying you up, just to see how he gets flustered after picturing it.
But not long after, you two'd have a genuine conversation about it that'd end in sitting quietly on the edge of the bed together, Daryl loosely doing simple ties with some yarn around one of your hands. He felt very vulnerable, given he's essentially not only letting you into his therapy sessions, but incorporating you into it. Shibari became his scapegoat from his life and trauma-scarred psyche for years; it's something he treasures – and he treasures you the same way. It would always be very intimate.
So once you were both comfortable with it, he'd love it; just sitting together in the evenings and letting him create his little artistic nets of rope on your body, starting with just your hands then arms and simple knots that could be easily undone. Then as time passed, and a period of peace became more prevalent, he did more complex ones and covered more of your body.
Once you expanded, he went out on solo runs to find specific ropes he wanted, maybe swinging by adult stores if needed. The first time he did your torso, he was so utterly transfixed by it: kept breaking the silence every now and again to remark how beautiful you looked.
And then when you did your torso and all without a layer of clothes blocking your skin it pretty much broke him. He was instantly addicted to the way the color of the rope he chose complimented your skin tone, how it so perfectly curled around every curve of your body. Once he was done he just sat back and stared at you. With all the meaning behind it, it was one of the most gorgeous things he'd ever seen.
For the first long while, it was only designs on you, and they weren't physically retraining. He wanted both of you to have experience in it before coming to that. And then when you did, he bound your wrists together, constantly checking if you were okay with it, then undid it pretty quickly.
That's where it started to branch into more sexual territory. Some of it was the control aspect, but it was more so how trusting you were of him; letting him be in control like that – and again just how perfect you looked woven into his masterpieces. First he'd do it, drag eyes over your body, then undo them, toss it aside and kiss you to push you back to lay in the bed.
But then he started keeping them on – but not the more physically restraining ones at first, just the pretty decor ones. This is all a process of progression, so when you did get to more restraining, it was usually just binding your wrists, tying your limbs to the bed frame, or arms to your chest, once and a while a little more than that.
Shibari with him would never be like the more intense stuff you see in BDSM spaces n allat – he will not super roughly tie you up in some weird ass position where rope is digging into your skin and leaving burns behind. He is never one to completely immobilize you. You being super restrained would make him nervous even if you were okay with it. And he's not at all into suspension: he has the skills to set it up right but he doesn't trust it, and that's veering too much into deeper kinky territory for his taste. He doesn't want to ruin this for himself by making it so explicitly sexual.
Like I said, it's much more intimate and remedial. It's about appreciating your figure and including you in something so important to him. You with geometric shapes and knots of rope that he made delicately mapped around your body will always be one of his favoritest things.
And if you wanted to learn, he'd teach you. Knowing knots in general was important in the apocalypse, plus everything else about it. He'd let you restrain him to a further extent than he would you.
And him knelt in bed, rope around his upper thighs that circled his hips and waist, up his chest and around his torso, binding his arms behind his back with his red rag tied around his eyes like a blindfold quickly became one of your favoritest things too <3
And bunny would skyrocket as a petname for both of you cuz rope bunny, duh
Summary: It was bath time for your daughter. However, she refused to take a bath unless Dog bathed first, and the furry companion refused to comply with Daryl's requests. Luckily, Dog loved you and would easily comply with your wishes.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Post Bridge (Not mentioned, but Rick doesn't go missing and the Leah plot never happened, hence Daryl being in Alexandria.)
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes towards the end.
Word count: 1.2k.
A/n: I don't know what this is. I had an idea pop up and I tried to get it written down, but not very well lol. However, I hope you like this!
“Dog, c'mon. Jus' this once, buddy,” Daryl practically pleaded with his furry companion, desperately trying to lead Dog towards the bathtub and into the water, but to no avail. “I'll cook ya a squirrel if ya do this fer me.”
In your arms, your three year old was happily giggling as she watched her dad struggle due to something she requested. “Go, Doggie, go!” Hazel happily babbled as she clapped her hands for added emphasis. “Pick up, Daddy. Put in water.”
You were seated on the closed lid of the toilet with Hazel in your arms as you watched in amusement as your husband struggled with the big dog. “Yeah, babe, pick him up. Put him in the water.”
Daryl shot a small glare in your direction. “The hell ya think I've been doin'?” Dog suddenly barked loudly, making Daryl flinch and your daughter burst out into laughter. Daryl looked at Hazel with a playful glare, but the smile on his lips betrayed his true emotions. “Oh, s'this funny to ya, Hazelnut? How 'bout I put ya into the bathtub first?”
Hazel gasped and hid her face in your neck. “No! Mama, Daddy mean. He promised. He breaking promise.”
You let out a small chuckle and rubbed her back affectionately. You looked at Daryl and shared a smile with him. “You can't break your promise to our daughter, Dar.” Your eyes moved down to look at Dog, who defiantly laid on the ground with no intention of setting his paws into the water. “The deal was Dog, and then Hazel. You can't go back on your word now.”
Daryl groaned in frustration. “He won't fuckin' listen. He—” Daryl suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, all colour draining from his face. His eyes flickered back to Hazel, praying for the first time in his life; he really prayed that Hazel hadn't heard his little slip up. However, Hazel appeared ignorant to his mistake, making Daryl sigh in relief. “Oh, thank god.”
You laughed and lowered Hazel from your lap and onto the floor, handing her your necklace to play with. “Stay here, baby. Mama needs to help Daddy bathe Dog. Daddy can't do it without Mama's help.”
Hazel giggled and started toying with the arrow on the necklace you gave her to play with—a gift that had been given to you by Daryl many years ago.—and nodded. “Mama gonna get it right. Daddy learn from Mama.”
Daryl smiled fondly down at his daughter and shook his head. “Ya have a lot'a faith in yer dear ol' dad, huh?” He stepped back and allowed you to approach Dog, who excitedly wagged his tail and nudged his nose into your hand. “Good luck with tha', Sunshine. If he ain't gon' listen to me, wha' makes ya think—” With little to no effort, you urged Dog into the bathtub, the puppy in a grown dog's body excitedly splashing around in the water, nearly soaking both you and Daryl . Daryl sighed and shook his head. “I thought ya were on my side, Dog. Fu—Freakin' traitor.”
You laughed and scratched Dog's chin. “Good boy.” Dog barked happily and moved around in the water, luckily making no attempts to jump out of the bathtub. You turned your head and sent your husband a cheeky smile. “What can I say? He's a total ladies' man.”
Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed at his furry friend. “Would be alrigh' if he wasn't tryna impress my girl with his tactics.” He stepped back and leaned down, picking Hazel up and adjusting her in his arms. “Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut? Dog's tryna steal Mama from us?” He gently started tickling her on her stomach, eliciting shrieks of laughter from his baby girl. He chuckled and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her temple. “Dun' worry. I won't let Dog steal her from us. He'll have to fight me fer her.”
You smiled at the two people you loved the most in the whole world fondly. You leaned forward to grab the dog shampoo—something Daryl found while on a run and something you were surprised actually still existed in the now messed up world you existed in—and lathered some onto your hands. “You just gonna stand there and look pretty, Dixon, or are you gonna help?”
“Hmm,” Daryl hummed as he pretended to think about your question, gently rocking Hazel in his arms as she lowered her head to rest on his shoulder. “Nah. I think ya got it. 'Sides, yer clearly tha' traitor's favourite. He'll stay still for ya.”
You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. “So you're leaving this all up to me while you, what, watch?”
Daryl took your prior spot on the closed lid of the toilet. “M'holdin' our daughter. Ain't tha' the excuse ya used earlier when I originally asked fer yer help?”
“Touché, Dixon, touché.”
Daryl chuckled again and smoothed his hand over Hazel's back. All fell silent between the two of you after that. Dog was relatively still while you washed all the grime from his coat, only moving whenever you tried to wash his paws. In a little over ten minutes, Dog was completely clean and more than eager to leave the cooling water. Before you could even attempt to towel dry him, Dog was shaking himself off, sending water flying in every direction.
Daryl shielded Hazel from the onslaught of droplets. “Dog, no!” Dog simply barked and made a run out of the door, leaving wet footprints in his wake. Your husband simply rolled his eyes and shook his head, standing up from the toilet and holding Hazel close to his chest. “Fuckin' hell. M'wetter than a drownt rat righ' now.”
You laughed and nodded, standing up and wiping the water from your body. You turned to Daryl and eyed your daughter in his arms, a look of realization dawning on you. “She's asleep, isn't she?”
Daryl nodded. “Yeah. She fell asleep almost fifteen minutes ago.”
You shook your head and allowed a small smile to spread over your face. “Well, at least Dog's clean.” You took a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to Hazel's head. “Let's just put this little Gremlin to bed. We'll bathe her first thing tomorrow morning.”
Daryl nodded and leaned forward, capturing your lips in a quick, loving kiss. He pulled back and gave you a small, fond smile. “I love ya, Peach.”
“I love you too, Dar,” you replied softly, caressing his cheek. Hazel started stirring in the archer's arms, making your breath hitch. Luckily she only adjusted her head on her dad's shoulder, making you sigh in relief. “I think that's a sign that we should get her to bed. And after that, how about we watch a movie in our room?”
Daryl knew exactly what you meant by that. The television that came with the small house you lived in with Daryl and your daughter was located downstairs in the living room. There wasn't a television in your shared room. However, with a little one running around and needing to speak in codes around her innocent ears, that particular code translated to something else, something much more enjoyable.
And after Hazel was put to bed, Daryl wasted no time in rushing you to your room and gently pushing you onto the bed for some much deserved “movie watching.”
This is so sweet 🫶🫶 I feel Daryl with the bathing; I bathed my friends golden retriever once and it was actually ridiculous, so much fur and water EVERYWHERE 😭
would you maybe write some daryl fluff? maybe reader is carols adopted daughter (20ish years old)
daryl comforting reader after henry and how carol acted in the tunnel? maybe r sees carol taking pills n stuff. idk just daryl maybe talking to carol “what about her? henry’s gone but she’s still here!” just daryl sticking up for reader and hugging her n looking after her while carols off.
~•♡•~ What One Has
➳ Summary: Following the Savior war, Carol took you and Henry in as her adoptive children. But through the events of the Whisperer war, your relationship with her became sort of estranged; at least you had Daryl looking out for you (Daryl + Fem!Reader)
➳ Setting: Post Whisperer war, around 10x18 + 10x21
➳ Word count: 1.9k
➳ C/W: Mentions of pike scene
➳ A/N: Ima be so fr, I struggled writing this, I think because I wasn't quite sure what direction I wanted to go but I needa stop sittin on this n I hope you like it nonetheless anon 😭🫶 Hopefully now that opening day at my job has passed I can refocus on writing (and hopefully we never have a day like that ever again cuz someone dropping and coding in front of me was not in any of my expectations 🗿)
Daryl groaned an exhale and shifted in his blankets, rolling over onto his back with a clenched fist resting on his forehead. Darkness shrouded his room in the basement, Dog curled up close to him no matter how many times he tried to ward the canine off from dirtying the plush couch by sleeping on it too.
Despite the threat of the Whisperers eliminated, and what he could only hope would be some time for rest, he didn't rest. Sleeping never proved easier no matter how many times a conflict was eased: he knew more would always follow. Especially now, where the repercussions of Alpha and her actions were so grave it shook foundations he'd prayed would stay stable.
The archer threw back his covers, picking himself from the makeshift bed and finding a shirt he'd earlier thrown aside, and a pack of cigarettes set on the edge of his workbench. He tisked at Dog, instructing him to stay while he quietly existed from the cellar, carefully ascended the stairs and opened the front door to head outside and smoke.
Closing it and throwing his head back to clear the messied hair from his face, he paused at the figure already occupying the right side of the steps. In the faint glow of moonlight, he recognized you despite your hunched posture, seemingly trying to obscure yourself.
“Why ya out ‘ere?”
“Same reason you are.”
It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew why, who this was about. It wasn't the first time he'd found you awake in the night as he was, having become an increasing commonality over the past 10 months since you moved here, and increasingly concerning.
Daryl stuffed the pack away in his pocket, coming to sit near you on the opposite end of the step, propping his elbows on his thighs. “Ya won’ talk ‘bout it?”
“It's not really gonna make a difference,” You replied, head bowed to stare at the wooden planks in front of you, twisting a loose thread you'd plucked from your jeans between your fingers.
“Could. Least yer not carryin’ it by yerself,” He tried to persuade you. Although he was guilty of doing it himself, his conscience didn't sit well with knowing those close to him were lost in their own minds like he so often was. Especially you, who he not only cared about, but had cared for. “C'mon, ‘m listening.”
You heaved an uneasy sigh, reluctantly accepting that he was right. He felt like the only person you had at this point. “I miss her.”
Daryl's head turned a bit so his gaze could flick to you then shifted back, nodding – more to himself – understandingly.
“And it's so weird because she's, what… 30 feet away from me right now? Maybe less? But she feels even further than she did when she just up and left to go on that boat.” You paused for a moment, coaching yourself through your breaths and not allowing them to grow erratic. “I thought, maybe after everything at the tower, she'd warm back up to me again. But I feel like the… thing, wore her raw, and then the blizzard froze her so solid she won't thaw back out.”
The man stayed silent, taking in your every word but knowing to speak now would halt the tracing of your thoughts; hinder you from fully opening up.
“Does she think because I'm grown it doesn't have a major effect on me? Henry wasn't just her son, he was like my brother. Families are supposed to be there for each other when you lose someone– and, and then I almost lost her too. I mean, you remember all the pills; how she never left her room. I could hear her some nights, just talking to herself. She was talking to something that wasn't real more than she talked to me!”
Now you were struggling, that choking feeling tightened around your throat and broke some of your words, mask slipping as the weight of everything started to collapse in on you just like– “And the cave. I… I'd never been more scared in my life, being in there with you guys. There's so many times I thought I was gonna die but nothing scared me like that. I still hear all the walkers sometimes, how she screamed, the sound of that dynamite going off. I still feel like I'm coated in dust just–... What was she thinking? I was right next to her. It's like I was invisible, or erased from her memory, and all she remembers is Henry.”
Daryl pulled you to him before you'd even realized you were crying, holding your stiff body against his, and through a few sobs, feeling you relax and give in. His strong arm wrapped around you was the most secure you'd felt in a long time.
“Shhh… s'alrigh’. ‘M ‘ere.” Soothing words were few and simple, but they were what you needed; the reminder that someone saw you, remembered you, and took account for your feelings in all of this.
You scooted closer to him, further tucking your head into his chest as if you were trying to finally find a moment of peace by escaping into his embrace. Daryl rubbed his palm over your shoulder, doing nothing but just being there for you.
A moment passed and you recomposed yourself to some extent, shuffling away with a sniffle while he loosened the hug. His eyes caught yours for just a second, seeing so much of himself reflected in your irises.
“Sorry, didn't mean to…” You trailed off while rubbing your face with the back of your hand, ridding the salty streaks from your skin and gesturing. You turned away, embarrassed from your venting and finding it hard to face him.
“Don't. Whole point'ah talkin’ is so ya ain't bottlin’ allat to yerself.” He quieted again, casting his gaze to you then up to the sky as he fidgeted with his hands. “Had a brother too; from before. Was an asshole, but still ma brother.”
You perked up a little, following his line of sight to the black above you. “What happened?..”
“Wa'salways gettin’ stuck with tha wrong people; last time jus’ cost ‘em. Happened bouta year into this; had tah put ‘em down mahself.”
“I'm sorry…” You swallowed and unsurely nibbled on the gummy flesh of your cheek. Was there ever really a right way to respond to that kind of thing?
“Ts'fine, long time ago. Point is I get how it is tah lose family like tha’, ‘nd ‘ll always listen when ya need it. Ya got me.”
“Thank you… for everything; bein’ there every time you already have. I really appreciate it, Daryl.” Truthfully, you'd flat out needed it. He'd remained a constant when all else altered. “I just don't know what to do anymore. Dad's been so distant too, and if I'm gonna lose him to cancer... I'll need her there for that.”
You licked your lips, taking a shaky inhale and biting your tongue a bit. “Sometimes I feel like all she sees when she looks at me is my head on a pike too.”
Daryl's jaw tensed, fearing you'd confess something like that. “‘Ll talk to ‘er.”
“No, you don't have to do that. I know you two are already–”
“Nah. ‘M gonna. Ya shouldn't ever think somethin’ like tha’. She still cares ‘bout ya: ts'jus’ hard for ‘er, been through a lot.” He gave a gentle squeeze to your shoulder before removing his hand. “She loves ya. Get sum rest.”
You nodded faintly, taking another breath to gather yourself and lifting from the spot to retreat inside, leaving the man to his own solemn nature.
❥-》》—————➣
Daryl often wondered if some things were worth it, this included; begrudgingly agreeing to let Carol tag along with him on what was meant to be a hunt, yet tracing paths back to that long abandoned cabin he would've preferred to add ‘forgotten’ in the title of.
He damned Dog for leading him back there, but figured something was going to push out the full story regarding how he spent all those years in the forest – and at least it opened the conversation for more important ones that needed to be had.
It wasn't ideal; borderline arguing with the woman he'd so casually dubbed his ‘best friend’, who'd been there when he needed her and vice versa. It hurt, but it wasn't all she hurt him for, and he was far from the only one she did.
“I'm sorry for Connie,” She spoke, head bowed and pursing her lips to shove back the tears that gathered in her waterlines. “But I'm not sorry for going after the horde and I'm not sorry for making Alpha pay for killing Henry because I was right.”
“‘Nd tha's all tha’ matters; you bein’ right, huh?” Daryl angled to look at her, keeping his forearm braced against the wooden post. She questioned the depth of his motivations, and he shook his head disapprovingly.
“Ts'ain't all about ‘em, ‘ts barely ‘bout me. ‘Ts ‘bout'cher damn kid; tha one ya still got.” They met eyes for a moment before hers shot away, shamefully avoiding the confrontation. “Ya think ‘bout ‘er in all this? Tha’ what you lost, she lost too? Ya know feels like she lost you? Tha’ she don’ sleep much anymore, misses you like yer already gone, ‘cause ya might as well be … Ya still have ‘er, ‘ts sum’thin’ we can't say fer a lotta people, so quit actin’ like ya don't.”
A painful silence settled, clawing at the both of them as he pivoted away and focused out the dirtied glass plane ahead of him. The archer bit back further words, part of him regretting the harshness of such even though it felt required.
“Ya shouldn'tah come.”; brought Carol's sharper attention back, sparking meaner accusations and disclosures between them – predominantly on Daryl's part – regarding their situations.
She turned around, drifting fingertips over the structuring of the cabin's foundation and sniffling before muttering a few things more and trailing into the other room.
Tension hung heavy enough to keep it mostly quiet, even as they later parted ways while returning to Alexandria, forced through seeming trials; Daryl with his motorcycle, and Carol while attempting to cook.
Once he finally got that damn bike working and rode home, he stifled a chuckle at how the silver-haired woman stood there, disheveled appearance matching his own. The man appreciatively declined her offer for soup, exhausted from his troubles and preferring to just go lay down with Dog.
He followed the shepherd round the house to enter through the front door, watching the cheerful wagging of his tail as he padded across the hardwood and down steps to the basement.
Daryl readjusted his crossbows strap around his shoulder, brushing back his hair before descending. He picked up Carol's voice in the distance, sequenced by yours, and paused to shift his vision for just a quick glance; you perched against the kitchen counter, bowls on the surface, and for the first time in a while, a genuine smile on your face as the older woman came up beside you.
His own tugged the slightest bit at one side of his mouth, satisfied with the apparent reconnecting. He continued his action, setting his things down in his room before partially undressing and flopping back on that couch.
Even if his relationship with Carol remained rocky, granting some stability to yours was enough for him. That was worth it.
summary: after you didn't listen to daryl during a run, causing you to almost die, daryl's concern turned into anger, which led to a high-tension argument with a happy ending.
content: twd blood and gore, walkers, implications of suicide, smut (oral m receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding :)), i don't know how to do warnings.
pairing: daryl dixon x fem! reader.
setting: prison era.
─ i actually don't hc daryl as rough or very dominant in bed but it's fun to write different things every once in a while. enjoy!
maggie and glenn had spotted an abandoned apartment complex some miles from the prison that you hadn't searched yet on the last run they made two weeks ago, so the couple, plus daryl and you went to scavenge the place this time.
maggie and glenn were on the first floor, and you were on the second with daryl.
“i'm gonna check the next one!” you announced to daryl, who was taking his sweet time searching again the places you had already searched, claiming you were not careful enough.
daryl was not lying, but the place was kind of big, and your patience was officially gone now as the second-hour mark of you all being in the location was coming close.
“wait for me, place's too big,” his gruff voice responded from the other room.
“aye, captain,” you yelled back, sending a mock salute in daryl's direction, even though he was out of sight.
“i mean it!” he added, as if sensing your intention to not listen.
you rolled your eyes and walked down the hall toward the—finally—last apartment, twisting the door open slowly. “hello?” you called softly in case there was a walker waiting on the other side. silence greeted you, but your machete remained raised defensively.
already familiar with the layout, you went ahead to check the kitchen cabinets, whispering to yourself “nice,” when you found an unopened bottle of vitamins that were still good and a pack of seeds of different herbs.
you put the stuff in your backpack and headed to the bathroom, stopping a couple of steps away from the ajar door when you caught a glimpse of some movement from the inside.
drawing your machete out again, raising on defense, you pushed the door open, ready to stab the dead geek straight in the head when a walker shorter than you expected lunged toward you, making you gasp. three others behind it followed with their jaws already hungrily biting on air.
everything happened really fast.
you tried to stab the first one with panicked fingers, instead somehow stabbing its shirt into the wall with enough force to keep it pinned there. bye-bye machete, though.
your eyes shot back to the rest, and that's when you noticed all of them had a slit throat. they looked young and skinny, only two of them taller than you. probably teens who were surviving together and gave up. it made your stomach turn.
they were also pretty fast and strong, probably recently turned.
walking away without taking your eyes off them, you reached for your knife and stabbed the blade hard into the second walker's brain with a spray of blood onto your shirt. it fell limp next to you as one of the other three walkers, eager and hungry, tackled you to the ground, the fourth one clumsily falling on top and leaving you caged beneath snapping jaws.
“DARYL,” you yelled, terrified. it felt like a big effort and not loud enough from the weight of the two living corpses pressing onto your chest, which felt like they were directly constricting your lungs and arms.
with your left hand, you pushed away the walker that was right on top of you by the forehead, while you stabbed it with your right hand from from below the jaw, failing to reach the brain, but distracting it enough to stop it from trying to bite you.
that distraction and a sudden rush of adrenaline gave you enough strength to push them both off your body, rushing away from them and snatching the machete off the one pinned to the wall as you quickly shut the door on their faces, locking yourself in the bathroom.
your hands shook as you walked backward, your knuckles white from how hard you griped your weapon's handle. you stared at the door with wide eyes, your heart thumping so loud you could barely hear as they growled, moaned, and knocked and scratched on the door.
the cold tiled wall touched your back, making you jump, and then you heard the unmistakable twang of daryl's crossbow. thump. the wet shlick of a knife twice and the sounds of more bodies hitting the ground.
you released your breath as you watched the doorknob being turned, restricted by the lock. you ran to open the door, eyebrows coming together and upwards, scared and apologetic eyes meeting his angry blue ones.
“yea hurt?”
“no.” your voice was so small.
silence lingered for a minute. you were just about to speak again but he beat you to it. loud and angered. “YER SO STUPID,” daryl barked, chest heaving. “TOLD YA TO WAIT, WHY CAN'T YEA LISTEN?”
the floor was suddenly more than interesting, tears welling in your eyes as you chewed on your bottom lip.
you heard him huff in annoyance before pacing left to right while glaring daggers at you. you knew perfectly well that this was him being concerned and scared of almost losing you, but it still made your chest feel tight and your lips pout.
daryl approached you, cupping your chin to make you look at him. his eyes were dark, the anger masking concern. “yea enjoy makin' me worry, peach?” his voice was husky and low, as his eyes scanned your face and neck slowly, scanning for bites or scratches, “not listening ta me, ya like tha'? bein' a fuckin' brat, yea 'njoy it, dontcha?”
you shook your head quickly, gulping with nerves.
“nah?” he asked, eyes squinting and head tilting as if saying he wasn't buying it. “hmm?” he asked demandingly, shaking your chin gently but firmly.
a tear rolled down your cheek, and his gaze was fixed on it soon. he dried it with his thumb, caressing the skin while he observed the wet trail it left. now that he knew for sure you weren't hurt, he couldn't help but relax, maybe enjoy the privacy you got in this big ass apartment.
“no, no. i'm sorry, i'm really sorry,” you cried.
“sorry? yeah? yer real sorry fer scaring the shit outta me?”
“yes, i'm sorry! i'm really sorry, dar.”
daryl's hand dropped from your chin, eyeing you carefully, head going back slightly with a predatory-like grace.
“dun' think yer sorry. think yer gon' do it again, yea never listen,” he said in a low voice, turning his back to you and walking away into the living room. your legs started following him before you even realized it.
“i'm sorry, i swear!”
daryl ignored you, taking a seat on the green sofa in the living room, manspreading so very obviously intentionally, and your eyes couldn't help but stare as his hips went slightly up as he adjusted himself, letting his hand linger on his crotch. “how sorry?”
one look at his narrowed, stormy eyes and you were on your knees, hands sliding up from his knees to his thighs.
“very sorry.”
his gaze dropped for a moment to the growing bulge in his pants and the back to your eyes. a silent invitation; more like a command, and you'd gladly indulge.
eager hands went to undo his belt and pants, pulling them down, along with his boxers in one swift motion, freeing his almost fully-hard cock. you licked your lips at the sight, leaning forward to kiss his angry red tip. you peppered soft kisses on his tip and down the base of his length, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes you could muster.
he breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring. slowly, those pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses and soon you were making out with his tip, “mhm,” you heard him hum, closing his eyes and throwing his head back with a smirk on his face.
you savored the pre-cum daryl was already leaking with a patience that was starting to irritate him. this wasn't a reward for your bratty behavior.
daryl took a handful of your hair and put it up, using it as leverage to thrust his hips upward without warning, making your eyes go wide as they made contact with his. he grunted as he pushed in and out of your pretty mouth, finding a rhythm soon.
one of your hands left his thigh to take hold of his balls, gently massaging them and playing with them in your hands. you watched how it made him bite on his bottom lip, bringing his free hand to your head to push you further, fucking your throat deeper, using it, and making you gag.
“yeah,” he breathed with hazy eyes, “lookin' real pretty like tha', ya fuckin' brat.”
daryl grunted, his cock twitching in your mouth. he was already on the edge, so when you looked up at him with teary eyes and scratched the exposed skin of his thigh with your nails, a pretty moan escaped his lips, making him yank, still as gently as he could, your hair back, pulling your mouth away from his cock.
you gasped for air, but still, like a hungry little thing, tried to take him back in your mouth, which made him chuckle.
“gonna make me cum fast with those pretty—” he leaned down, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin to press a couple of kisses on each one of your eyes, licking away a tear that escaped one of them, “—fuckin' eyes.”
his hand lowered to grab you by the neck, not actually using any force.
he pulled you for a passionate kiss, his tongue immediately seeking yours to lick and suck as he guided you onto the couch, making you sit next to him, one of your legs thrown over his knee.
his left hand grabbed the back of your head to deepen the kiss, while his other hand reached down to undo the button and zipper of your shorts, pulling away from the kiss just to yank them down, discarding them on the floor and wasting no time to return his mouth to yours, making your back arch slightly.
after what felt like such a blissful eternity, his lips latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking with the intent to create bruises, licking and kissing the skin when he accomplished his goal. at the same time, his hands slid under your blood-stained top, which despite its navy blue color, the crimson was still visible.
daryl caressed the skin of your tummy before traveling to your back, quickly unclasping your bra to cup your breasts under all those layers. he kneaded your tits, flicking your perky nipples with his thumbs, pinching them between the index and middle finger, and massaging the skin. fuck, it felt good. for both of you.
he growled as he pulled away from your neck to start ripping your shirt in half, chuckling lightly at your confused face, “found plenty'a clothes, sunshine,” he kissed your frown away, “dis one's ruined anyway.”
you removed the split shirt off your body and he quickly slipped your bra off your shoulders, throwing it a little too eagerly onto the floor. “ain't this a sight,” he whispered to himself, staring at you all naked and exposed for him. “beautiful little thing.”
daryl popped one tit into his mouth as he slowly spread your folds with his index and middle finger, humming against your nipped while he sucked when he felt how wet you were for him.
you gasped, arching your back more, offering your chest for him as he introduced his middle and ring fingers inside your needy cunt, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his other hand went to your waist, gripping the skin like a vice, growing hard again as he scissored his fingers inside of you, feeling your silky walls hug them hungrily.
he lightly bit your nipple, his speed getting impatient soon, quickly making you squirm underneath him and get louder, but he shut you with a sloppy, hungry kiss while pinning your hips down with the hand that was priorly on your waist.
you weren't going to last long.
“dar—” you whined against his mouth.
“i know, doll, i know,” he mumbled, still kissing you as though your mouth was addictive, his fingers resolute on making you explode. “i gotcha, let go, baby.”
and like the good, obedient girl you always were under his touch, you did just that.
pulling away from his mouth with your eyes thrown back, your face contorted in pleasure, and the sweetest cry falling off your lips, you came. his relentless fingers never stopping their movements, fucking you through your orgasm.
he grunted in satisfaction, watching you in such awe before leaning down to lick a strip from your sternum to your jaw as his fingers came to a slow, eventual stop.
you opened your eyes as your breathing returned to normal, pulling him in for a slow, passionate kiss while your hand raised to grip his deliciously strong bicep. you moaned as the muscle flexed under your fingertips.
pulling away, you moved hastily to straddle him. leaning down you bit onto the skin, while he gripped the base of his cock to brush it against your entrance, making both of you moan.
“need you,” you whined, so pathetic but he liked it. fuck, he loved it.
“my needy girl. my needy little thing,” he growled, kissing your cheeks and jaw—anywhere his mouth reached while you sank onto his cock. “yeah,” he moaned, hands going to your his automatically.
you bit your bottom lip, rolling and bouncing your hips atop his, your hands on his chest that now was bare. the stretch made little cries of pleasure escape your lips, that only got whinier when his fingertips dipped into the skin, surely to leave bruises.
“fuckin' love this,” he breathed, reaching down to rub on your clit with his thumb as you lay on his chest, your hard nipples rubbing against his warm skin.
you bounced on his dick impaled in you, him meeting you halfway with thrusts of his own, finding the right angle that had his tip kissing your cervix, making you sigh and moan, “yeah, yeah, daryl, right there,” over and over, mind going blank already.
his calloused hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing and slapping the soft skin hungrily, traveling up to your back and to your tits, sliding back down to your hips. he couldn't stop touching you, pressing you impossibly closer to him.
his mouth found yours again, as sloppy and messy as this his thrusts were becoming from how close you were taking him to the edge. “dar,” you cried, your thighs burning, giving up, but he gripped your hips and started pounding into you faster.
the sound of skin slapping and your shameless moans mixed in the most sinful of symphonies.
your mouth found the skin of his neck and you sucked and bit, trying to muffle your sounds, but he didn't agree. “nah, let me hear ya, baby. gonna make you scream real loud, peach, c'mere,” with his hand behind your neck he pulled you up and pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he picked up the pace.
his eyes, the way you breathed each other in, his dick sliding in and out of you in the loveliest way. you couldn't hold it anymore.
your walls clenched around him as you screamed his name, curses, and senseless praises to him, absolutely sucking him in as you climaxed around him, drunk off pleasure which seemed so contagious as his movements and sounds became more desperate.
with a primal urge, he thrusted deep inside, pretty much humping your walls while he shoved your face further into his neck. he was close and would've come already if it wasn't because he wanted this to last.
a husky voice reached your ears, deeper and so sexy.
“gon' breed this pussy,” he breathed, “gonna come so deep inside and put a baby in you,” it made you whimper, your arousal waking again like a flash, feeling just as close as he was. “i'm gonna put a baby in yea, make yea a mama, and ya won't,” thrust, “have a choice,” thrust, “but to stay home.”
he grunted loudly in your ear as he shattered, shooting rope after rope of hot, white come into your womb, making you reach the sweetest, most intense climax of the day with him.
you both were a panting, sweaty, content mess by the time you came down from your highs. there was a bright smile on your face that mirrored daryl's, though his face turned serious as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze locking with yours, worry and concern clear in his icy irises.
“don't do tha' again, please,” he said. “i can't lose ya, sunshine.”
“you won't,” you reassured him. “i'm really, really, sorry,” taking his hand in yours, you pressed a kiss on his palm. “i was stupid, and it won't happen again.”
“you weren't stupid. i was mad, shouldn't 'a said that.”
you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, which he gladly reciprocated, though you broke the kiss a little too soon for his liking with a giggle. “so you wanna make me a mama, huh?” you teased.
“prolly should talk 'bout it first, but yeah.”
you smiled brightly again, caressing his cheek. “i'd like that too,” you said, “but yes, we should talk about it,” you giggled again as he pulled out of you with a wince from both of you.
you were about to get up to get your clothes but he stopped you, shooting up from the couch to collect all your clothes, pulling a new shirt from his backpack, and helping you put it on, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead when you were both fully dressed again.
after drying your sweat with his rag, and while fixing your hair as much as you could, you headed downstairs, meeting maggie and glenn who were exiting one of the apartments downstairs.
you noticed glenn's shirt was inside out, unlike when you all arrived at the place, and maggie similarly fixed her hair as you.
“found anything good?” glenn asked your man.
“yeah, bunch'a clothes, some medicine,” daryl nodded, fixing the backpacks around his shoulders. you shared a look with maggie, and you both giggled silently, cheeks blushing.
tagging @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon @dixons-sunshine
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Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Two | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Chapter Summary: You and Daryl get a little bit more insight on your ambushers. The leader, Liam, is extremely suspicious, but you just can't figure out why. And to top it off, a certain secret of yours gets revealed that changes everything.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries.
Word count: 3.6k.
A/n: It's finally done. I powered through and got it done. Yay me! However, this chapter is pretty boring with limited action, but I hope y'all like this nonetheless!
Taglist: @dixons-girl89, @jupiter1700, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @ddamm (comment/DM/inbox to be added!)
“I know, it's a lot to take in at first.” With a grand gesture and a big, inviting smile, Liam proudly showed off the beautiful landscape behind him, putting all of the luxuries they had on display for you and Daryl to see—well, as far as luxuries could go in a world ran by the undead. “But I promise you, as soon as you get settled into your new...” There was a slight pause before he continued. “...chambers, a wonderful life most certainly awaits you.”
The leader's voice barely reached your ears. The whole scenario baffled you; if they wanted you to join their community, why feel the need to ambush and kidnap you? Why tie you up and throw you in the back of a van, with a sack over your head to obscure your vision, most likely as a way to ensure you didn't know what turns they took? And why wouldn't they just ask you whether or not you wanted to join the community in the first place?
A million thoughts ran with the speed of light through your mind, but there was one thing you knew for sure; you didn't trust this Liam guy, and you certainly didn't trust this community. You could immediately tell that something was off. You couldn't figure out just yet what about it unnerved you so much.
“Dave, Marco.” At the sound of their names being called, the two guys who stood beside you and Daryl perked up, their backs straightening as they regarded their leader. “Make sure that the cooks make enough food for our newest additions. And,” he began, looking at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. Whether it was real or not, you didn't know yet. “Call up doctor Miller and tell him to expect two patients.”
“Why two?” one of the goons questioned. He looked at Daryl in disgust, something that irked you beyond belief. “Only the sexy lady here seems like she needs it.”
From the corner of your eye, you could clearly see Daryl tense up. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't even have noticed the way the archer's body language shifted, but you caught it. Of course you caught it. You knew Daryl better than anyone, and you knew that he was getting more pissed off by the second. One wrong move, and that man was more dead than the monster's that roamed the earth.
“Jesus, Dave,” Liam reprimanded him, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. “You knocked the guy out with some hardcore stuff. We don't know how much of the fumes he inhaled. I don't want to take any chances. Our guests need to be properly checked out.”
Dave grumbled something under his breath, but ultimately agreed. However, right before he and the other man, who you assumed to be Marco, walked off in the direction of a small building, he stopped next to Liam and whispered something in his ear. The leader nodded before waving him off. They left and soon disappeared, and your attention quickly got drawn to the leader again.
Liam turned back to regard you and your husband. His lips formed into a tight smile, his eyes squinting with the pull of the muscles. For some reason, the action sent a shiver up your spine, and definitely not the good kind you'd experience when Daryl softly traced his fingers over your back. You had a lot to be wary of, and this Liam guy certainly didn't make a very good first impression on you or Daryl. You were sure that your husband wanted to lunge at the man and pound his face into the ground with his bare hands, and you definitely didn't blame him. You wanted to do the exact same thing.
Liam motioned to someone over your shoulder. In moments, somebody was grabbing at your shoulders and hoisting you up onto your feet. You stumbled a bit, not tumbling back to the ground only because Liam stepped forward to steady you. You instantly jerked back, moving away from his touch. You would've punched him for even thinking of touching you when he was the reason you were probably light-years away from your friends and family, but the rope tightly binding your hands stopped you from doing so.
You heard grunting coming from behind you. You spun around and saw the same goon practically manhandling your husband, forcing him up to his feet. When Daryl struggled against his hold, the man decided that punching him would be a good decision. The sight of Daryl being knocked back down to the gravel unleashed a certain protectiveness in you, and you took a warning step forward.
“You stay the fuck away from him, and keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” you yelled in anger, moving over to your husband and sinking down to your knees beside him. You thanked your lucky stars that your hands were bound in front of you and not behind your back, because it allowed you to trace your fingers over his face, searching for any bleeding. “Baby—”
“M'alrigh',” Daryl mumbled, glaring up at his attacker, his eyes alight with the fire of a thousand suns. “Asshole punches like a girl. No offense, Peach.”
You gave him a small smile. “None taken.” You helped him sit back up with a lot of effort, your hands straining against the rope and getting rope burn in the process. You clambered up onto your knees and carefully stood up, struggling to maintain your balance. Daryl followed your lead, and soon the two of you were stood in front of the leader.
Liam gazed at the two of you thoughtfully, his face unreadable. His green eyes flickered between you and Daryl for a moment too long for your liking before he readapted his smile. “Sorry about that, mate,” he began, his gaze landing on Daryl before moving over to the goon that had just attacked Daryl a few moments prior. “Peter just doesn't know how to behave himself.” The aforementioned man cowered under his leader's gaze, something you instantly picked up on and locked in the back of your mind. “Don't worry, he'll be punished appropriately.”
“Sir, please, I'm so—”
“Save it,” Liam snapped, glaring at the man harshly. “You know the rules, Peter. All actions have consequences. Those are the rules. If I ease up on you, the next person will expect me to do so and order will be disrupted.” He stopped for a few moments, simply staring at Peter with an unreadable look in his eyes. “You are dismissed. I expect you to be in my office in two hours. If you're not, well, you know what will happen.”
Whether that last part was a warning or a threat, you didn't know. However, what you did know was that for whatever reason, this Peter guy was deathly terrified of his leader. He visibly slumped and averted his eyes from everyone as he hurried away, practically bolting as if being chased by something.
Now being left alone with Liam, your eyes locked with the man's green ones. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but there was something wrong with the man in front of you. He reminded you a lot of the Governor, the more you thought about it, but at the same time, he was different. It annoyed you to no end that you couldn't quite figure out exactly what about the green-eyed man made you feel cautious.
Well, his men ambushed and kidnapped you and your husband, so that was a pretty good place to start.
“Once again, I am so incredibly sorry about that,” Liam started, his face adapting a look of sympathy. “Peter is a rather new addition to my ‘police force’, so to speak. He hasn't quite learned that we don't resort to violence unless it's an absolute necessity.” He stopped for a second, looking at you before sighing. “Miss, I truly am sorry about what Peter did to you as well. Please excuse me for saying this again, but you do look like shit.”
You couldn't understand what this man's deal was. Merely a few minutes ago, while he was surrounded by multiple of his men, he had seemingly mocked you about the injuries you had sustained. However, now he was apologizing and being sympathetic? What was this man's motive?
“Now, Daryl and Y/N, I believe?” Liam began, successfully gaining confused and guarded looks from both you and your husband.
“How the hell do ya know tha'?” Daryl barked defensively, straightening his back to appear larger—almost as if he was facing a bear.
Liam's lips twitched up into a small wicked smirk at the archer, but he very quickly disguised it with a welcoming smile. “I know a lot of things, mate.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the farmland surrounding you. “I need to know things to keep my people safe. They depend on me, you know?”
“Still doesn't answer my goddamn question,” Daryl practically growled, taking a threatening step towards the man. “How the fuck do ya know our names?”
Liam didn't falter under the Dixon man's harsh glare. If anything, he straightened his posture and met Daryl head-on, his height adding an advantage over the archer. However, having known your husband for a long time, you knew it was time to intervene before he started a fight he wouldn't be able to finish. His hands were tied and Liam had who knows how many people to back him up. The two of you were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.
“Daryl,” you called to him softly, raising your tied hands to gently grip his shoulder. “I really don't think that's the thing we should be concerned about right now. It doesn't matter if he knows our names. What matters is that we have to get the fuck out of here. We do that by playing along for now,” you mumbled into his ear, quiet enough to not alert Liam of your plan.
Daryl glared at the leader of the community for a few moments longer before stepping back, sharing a determined look with you. You gave him a small smile before turning back to Liam, regarding the green-eyed man with a strained, fake smile.
“I'm sorry about him,” you began, your voice sickeningly sweet. You were taking a page out of Carol's book—you were playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, biding your time until you and Daryl could strike back. You could only hope that your earlier outburst towards Peter wouldn't be used to call your bluff. “It's just that we weren't brought here under the friendliest circumstances. And now you know our names and it's a bit creepy. He's being wary.”
“For good reason,” Liam replied with a nod, motioning for you and Daryl to follow him. You shared a look with Daryl before following behind the man, Daryl following close behind. “You can't be sure about the dangerous pricks that are out there.”
“Ironic, ain't it?” Daryl grumbled lowly, glaring at Liam through his hair as the two of you followed behind the leader. He received a slight jab to his stomach from your elbow, and he let out a soft grunt.
“You see, that's why we built this place.” Liam walked on and motioned to the fields on his left. There were multiple people working on the crops; some watering, some picking, and some planting. You couldn't be completely sure, but you swore you saw a faint glint of metal wrapped around most of the workers' legs. Were you just out of it from the pain in your head, or were those shackles?
“Well, built is the wrong word. We found this farm back when everything first went to shit. The crops and the farmhouse were luckily still standing. We... expanded, so to speak. We built the walls to keep the flesh eaters out and built more homes on the property to house our growing population.” He stopped and turned back to you and Daryl. “I hope you don't mind, but you'll have to stay in the farm house with me for the time being. We're busy building new homes but it won't be ready for another couple of weeks, maybe months.”
“Jus' one question 'fore we decide,” Daryl began, stepping forward. “Why'd ya have to bring us here by force? Why didn't ya jus' ask us to come here instead of kidnappin' us?”
Liam stared at Daryl with a blank expression on his face. His face didn't give anything away, and it unnerved you beyond belief. However, he soon gave the two of you yet another smile. You were genuinely starting to wonder if his face was starting to hurt from the excessive amount of smiling.
“There's a reason for everything, champ. However, not everyone is allowed to know my reasonings to the things I do. That's reserved for the people I trust. But do know that I did it for your own goods. Between you and me, that entire building was surrounded by flesh eaters. You most certainly would've died without my men.”
“Wha' the hell do ya know 'bout—”
“Sir? I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but Dr Miller is ready for the new arrivals,” a small, timid woman spoke up, gaining the attention of you, Daryl and Liam.
“Ah, Mariah,” Liam spoke, nodding at her in greeting. He turned back to you and Daryl, using his hand to motion towards the woman. “Please follow her to Dr Miller. He'll make sure to patch you up and ensure you're fit and ready for tomorrow.” He walked a few steps backwards and clapped his hands twice. “Welcome to Sunny Meadows! Come meet me in the farm house once you're done.”
With that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving you and Daryl alone with the woman, Mariah. The aforementioned woman turned to look at the two of you. She was nervously fidgeting with her hands, her posture slouched and her eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on you, your husband, your wounds, the ropes tying your hands together, or the ground. You were confused by her obvious fear towards you. What people was she used to dealing with? Did she really think that you were going to hurt her?
“Please follow me,” she stammered out with a nervous squeak, turning around and speeding off into the direction of the very same building those other men, Dave and Marco, had disappeared into earlier.
You hesitantly started following her. Daryl grumbled and followed your lead, glaring at any person who dared to lock eyes with him. You had to withhold your chuckles at your husband, knowing that it was neither the time nor place for that. Under normal circumstances, you'd laugh at your husband's antics. But not now. Not when your main priority was getting the hell out of that place.
You soon arrived at the makeshift medical building. You followed her in, taking in the pure doctor-like feel of the building. If you didn't know any better and somebody had blindfolded you and brought you here, you would've believed that this was a legitimate doctor's office. But you did know better.
A man, who you presumed to be this doctor Miller character everyone was talking about, placed a syringe down on the table and gave you all inviting smiles. “Welcome!” he greeted you enthusiastically—and rather loudly, too. You winced at the sound, being painfully reminded of the incessant throbbing in your skull. “You both look rather terrible. Who should I focus on first?”
“Owen,” Mariah began in a soft voice. “If I may, maybe the woman? She took quite the beating.”
“Peter?” the doctor inquired, shaking his head and sighing when Mariah nodded. “That man has sent more patients my way than any scavenging trip accident has. I don't even know why your husband still keeps him around.”
Wait, husband? Liam was Mariah's husband? Then why was he treating her like that? Why was she so scared of him? A million different possibilities ran through your mind for the obvious fear the woman held towards her husband, and none of them were good. Daryl's ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes. He visibly shared the same confusion as you. However, the doctor's orders caught your attention.
“Mariah, is it really necessary to have their hands tied? I can see the irritation from here. Please remove their binds.” Doctor Miller stopped for a moment, regarding you and Daryl with a thoughtful look. “Sir, ma'am, speaking from experience, please don't try to run or attack once those binds are removed. Whenever there's a new addition, the walls are very guarded. You'll be shot instantly.”
Mariah gingerly removed the ropes from your arms and tried to remove Daryl's. However, your husband flinched back at the foreign touch, making the woman confused. You simply gently pushed her aside and moved over to him, starting to untie his binds. This time, Daryl stood still, and in no time at all, his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists, the rope burns visible.
“Alright,” the doctor started. “Ma'am, please lay down on the bed. I'll tend to you shortly. Sir, you may take a seat on that chair next to the bed while you wait.”
You looked out of the window and weighed your options. However, the doctor wasn't lying; there were multiple guards patrolling the walls in the distance. There also were guards walking up to the makeshift medical building, most likely being sent to ensure you and Daryl didn't try anything.
You had no other option. You had to continue playing along.
You slowly walked over to the bed and laid down. Daryl hesitantly plopped himself down on the chair next to the bed, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly trying to think of an escape plan, but he wasn't succeeding.
“Alright,” Doctor Miller began, walking out of the side room and rolling a machine out with him.
You instantly knew what that machine was. “No, doctor, you can't. No, don't—”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Daryl stood up from the chair and glared at the doctor, his mind instantly assuming the worst at your reaction. “The hell is tha'?”
“Sir, please relax.” Mariah walked up to the side of the bed, grabbing a tube of some sort of gel from the drawer. “We have some new equipment we've been wanting to test out. We found this ultrasound machine yesterday. We just want to test it out and make sure it works.”
Your heart stopped beating. All at once, thoughts of your unborn baby flooded your mind. You couldn't believe that you had forgotten about the fact that you were pregnant. With everything that happened, your mind neglected to remind you of that pivotal fact. And now everyone was going to know, including your husband who you had yet to tell.
“Doc, I don't think that's a good idea,” you warned him, pleaded with him, but the man didn't listen.
“Nonsense. This'll be over before you know it. It won't hurt, I promise you.”
“Ma'am, can I lift your shirt?” Too frozen to answer her, you simply stared. Deciding for you, Mariah lifted your shirt a bit and opened the tube with the gel. “This might be a bit cold.”
The cold was the least of your worries. You had taken quite the beating. What if your baby was hurt? What if your baby was dead? What if the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat? All of those thoughts flooded your mind, so much so that you barely heard Daryl talking to the doctor.
“Why does she need'a do tha'? Can't some other chick do this?”
“I was going to ask someone to come in today to test it, but she's here now. Might as well get it out of the way.” Doctor Miller started with the exam, placing the object on your stomach and moving it around. At first, the screen didn't pick up a thing, and that made you want to cry. However, the steady thumping of a heartbeat could soon be heard, and a small figure appeared on the screen.
“Oh, wow. That's a strong heartbeat,” Doctor Owen Miller told you with a smile, the ultrasound depicting a growing baby. “Congratulations, you two.”
Your heart was attempting to jump out of your chest. It was amazing to you that the little blob on the screen would soon develop into a baby, your baby. You would pick out their name and scavenge for things for your little one, and you're sure Daryl would—
Oh, god. Daryl.
Slowly looking over to your left, you locked eyes with your husband. Instead of finding the love, affection and adoration that usually swam in his ocean coloured eyes, you found something else. You found anger, shock, worry, but above all else? You could see a renewed sense of determination in his eyes.
The archer was pissed at you for hiding your pregnancy and convincing him to let you wander beyond the walls, but he couldn't think about that. He had to get you to safety, away from these monsters. He had to keep you and your unborn baby safe.
The doctor should've heeded your warning. The doctor never should've insisted to take an ultrasound. Because of doctor Owen Miller, Daryl Dixon was determined. Daryl Dixon was going to tear that whole place apart, and anyone who dared to lay a finger on you would meet an agonizing end.
It's late when I'm writing this and I'm sleepy and I'm (again) thinking about Daryl falling asleep during sex.
Not in a mean way; say like he comes home from a run pretty late in the evening or night, you get him some food then help him through a shower and maybe a massage that ends in both your clothes gone and missionary.
Your bodies are about as intertwined as they could be; your legs hooked behind his back, arms around his neck and shoulders, his arms curled around your torso and head buried into your chest and crook of your neck.
He keeps murmuring about how much he missed you, how warm you feel, how good you smell, how soft your skin is; just how much he loves you. His thrusts are slow, almost lazy, kisses accompanying his words of admiration.
He's purring again, completely lost in you, melting into the feeling of your body beneath his cause it's the most comfortable thing to ever exist. His body's on autopilot to maintain his movements, but eventually his brain drifts a little too far to keep it up and he just falls asleep in your hold.
You whisper his name just once to check his consciousness, confirming that he's gone, then smile to yourself and resist your chuckle as to not rouse him. You brush hair back from his face, tenderly tucking it behind his ear with sweet little goodnights and a kiss to his forehead; to which he subconsciously cuddles closer to you. You watch him for a little, then fall asleep yourself.
Daryl groggily wakes up a couple hours later (he practically never sleeps more than a few hours without waking up), disoriented from drifting off mid action. Awareness trickles back to him, remembering what he was doing, only now pulling out of you and shuffling to the space in bed beside you, accidentally waking you in the process.
He tries to get you to go back to sleep, but is a little distant which just wakes you more. Truth is; he's embarrassed. In his perspective – from things he's heard and been told – falling asleep during sex is not only bad, but insulting: essentially saying you're disinterested and find it so boring you snooze.
Of course you catch onto this without him even needing to say it, but still persuade him to explain it himself since it's part of working with him on getting better at freely expressing his feelings and being honest. He keeps apologizing, saying he didn’t mean it like that at all and he was just really beat from the run; if you wanted to restart right now he's willing (he definitely feels like he disappointed you and assumes you're upset with him) (again that stems from preconceptions, not actually you)
So you shift up against him, wrapping him back in your arms and saying you understand he was really tired, and that's okay. He didn't hurt your feelings at all. In fact, you love that; the fact he fell asleep – that he felt so safe and comfortable with you, even during such a vulnerable thing, that he fell asleep.
He's confused. I mean… you were having sex, and seemed to be enjoying it, then his exhaustion essentially ‘ruined’ the moment, and your pleasure (this was early on enough in your relationship that he's still wrapping his mind around the fact you're in love with him, and not the sex – you love that too obviously, but that's not why you're with him. He struggles a lot with seeing relationships as 50/50, rather more 75/25, or 90/10 even, where he's most of the weight. It all stems from his upbringing and experiences, and feels he has a debt to be constantly repaying you simply because you're claiming you love him – he just feels like if he's not meeting expectations he set, he's not good enough, and if he's ‘fumbling’ in something as crucial as sex that's a major problem) (I gotta stop that here or ima get off track)
But anyway, you continue to correct and reassure him, running fingers through the roots of his hair, holding him to you and periodically peppering kisses to his head, temple, jawline and such while you speak, lulling him to rest again.
It takes him a little while to accept that what you say is true, as do most things you reassure him about. A lot of the earlier chunk of your relationship was spent undoing the intricate knots of negative thinking patterns and thoughts that wove into his mind throughout his life – all this being one of them.
He comes to accept it eventually, along with other things, and can now just cuddle up with you in intimate positions, but not actually having sex, and fall asleep in each other's embrace.
Yes your Honor, I am guilty of loving non-sexual cockwarming where you just stay like that to feel connected 😔🤞
(I swear I will post a req fic soon I needa lock in 🗿)
BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫
SWEET LITTLE SINNER
THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink
DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM
OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀
Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO
So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible
This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3
Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)
southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe
"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.
Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.
"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.
As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.
Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.
After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.
As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.
"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.
Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.
"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."
"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.
Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."
The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."
"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.
"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.
You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.
"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.
Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.
"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."
Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.
"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.
"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.
Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.
"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."
It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.
As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.
Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.
He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.
It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.
Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.
You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.
Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.
He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.
Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.
"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.
You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"
He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"
“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.
Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.
“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”
The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.
“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.
The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.
“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.
You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.
It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.
Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.
He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.
"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.
You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.
Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"
"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.
He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"
"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.
They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.
"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."
Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."
"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.
You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.
Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"
"Good"
"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"
Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.
He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.
There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.
Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.
"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.
He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.
"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.
You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.
Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all
"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"
It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.
But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.
"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.
Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.
"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.
Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"
You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"
"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.
"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.
"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth
"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.
Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"
You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"
The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.
He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–
"Help!"
The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.
"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.
Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.
"Anyone, help! Help!"
As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.
There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.
Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.
"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.
You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.
He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.
"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.
The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.
A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.
Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.
"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.
"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'
The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"
"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.
Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"
At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"
Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"
"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.
"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.
Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.
Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"
"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.
"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.
Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."
"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.
"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.
"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"
"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.
"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.
Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."
"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.
He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.
"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."
"You said you had a church?"
You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.
It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.
"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."
"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”
“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.
Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.
He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.
Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."
"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.
"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.
Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.
Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.
There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.
By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.
"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.
Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"
You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"
He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"
"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.
Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"
"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.
Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.
"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.
You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.
It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.
But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.
There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.
Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.
"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."
"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.
Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."
"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.
Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."
Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."
"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."
"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.
"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.
The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."
"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.
It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.
"You're coming with us."
The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.
"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.
"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."
Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."
"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.
You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.
He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.
"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."
From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.
"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.
He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."
"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."
"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.
Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."
"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.
The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.
It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.
Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.
It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.
Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.
"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.
Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"
"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.
The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"
You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"
Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"
"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.
He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"
You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."
"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.
You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.
"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"
Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"
"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"
"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"
"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"
At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.
"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.
"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.
You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"
"Steal anythin'?"
"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"
"Well, everyone's told a lie"
"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"
Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"
"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.
"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.
"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"
"How would ya' know?"
You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"
Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"
"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"
The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.
Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.
But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"
"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"
You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"
Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"
"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"
Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.
Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.
His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"
"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.
"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.
"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.
"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"
"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.
"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"
You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.
It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.
"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.
He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.
You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.
It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.
"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.
"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"
"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.
It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"
You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.
You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.
Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'
"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.
Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.
He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"
You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.
"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.
Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.
Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.
When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.
"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.
You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.
"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.
This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.
Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"
"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"
Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.
It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.
Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.
Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.
He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.
He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.
But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.
You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.
"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.
Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"
You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.
Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.
He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.
"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"
Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.
Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.
He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.
"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"
Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.
Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.
From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.
“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.
Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.
He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”
That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.
"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"
Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.
With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.
When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.
"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.
The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"
You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"
He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"
The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.
"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.
Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.
His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.
"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.
"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.
He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"
Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"
"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.
"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.
"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.
"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.
Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"
You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"
"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"
At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"
"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"
The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.
"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"
"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"
You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"
"Aren't we one righ' now?"
"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"
"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"
He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.
"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.
You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.
A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"
The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"
"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.
He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"
"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.
"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"
He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"
"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"
"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"
GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.
I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be
Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger
A/n: idk what this is lol. I'm not an artist by any means but I thought this would be cute.
Imagine dating Daryl Dixon when you're an artist.
In the midst of all the panic that was your everyday life, it would be hard to find a moment just to sit down and draw like you used to. That's why the farm, prison and Alexandria were so important to you. There, you didn't have to run. You didn't have to worry about the dead disturbing your peace. You could whip out an old pencil/pen/whatever you desire and a notebook, and draw.
Daryl didn't understand your love for the hobby, but he loved you, so he'd go out of his way on runs to find you all the art supplies your heart desired. From pencils to crayons to the finest paint supplies, you name it. He didn't know what classified as “cheap” supplies and “expensive” supplies, so he'd just grab everything he deemed usable. He'd leave it up to you to decide what you used and didn't.
He'd always compliment your art—in his own Daryl way, of course. Don't expect some rant or anything like that. He'll hum and offer an “s'nice. Looks real good”. You'll rarely get anything else out of him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't think you're talented as fuck. He does, he just doesn't know how to voice it.
He'll always compliment your art, but when you draw him and show him, he'd get all shy and won't know what to say. If he's really comfortable with you, he'll playfully make fun of the drawing and himself.
“Surprised the paper didn't tear when it saw ya drawin' my face.”
“Damn, really had to add my greasy hair, huh?”
“All'a this creative control and ya couldn't make me handsome?”
He secretly loves it when you draw him, though. It makes him feel loved and appreciated. Of all the things you could draw, you choose him. That makes him feel like he's on cloud nine.
I can also see him halfheartedly trying to draw you one day. You'd be busy drawing while seated on the couch, in your own little world, completely unaware of the archer picking up a piece of paper and a pencil. When he'd be done, he'd tap you on the shoulder and show you his drawing of you. In my opinion, it would surprisingly be an okay drawing. One would clearly be able to tell that it's you. You'd cherish that drawing, and it would make Daryl so happy.
If you offer to give Daryl some lessons on drawing, he'd secretly be ecstatic. Plus it gave him some insight to your love for the hobby, so he'd be a star student. (Some lessons ended with the papers and supplies scattered and the two of you disappearing into the bedroom for some other activities, but other than that, he was an eager learner.)
This is a separate page for my rules n whatnot for reqs just so my pinned post doesn't get too crowded
Status on reqs being open/closed and for who is on my pinned post!
❥-》》—————➣
I will NOT write:
Abuse of any sort (unless it's something from the past/ apart of a trauma healing thing – essentially I won't write char. abusing reader, or vice versa)
Rape/SA (same as abuse, possibly if it's in past/ apart of something specific. I will not write char. raping or assulting reader, or vice versa)
Overly large age gaps, DDLG/MDLB, age play, weird innocence stuff, smut stuff with underage characters, etc.
Incest and mommy/daddy kinks that veer into incestuous behavior
Certain other kinks, fetishes, tropes, scenarios n whatnot
If there are ever reqs for something I am not comfortable writing, I will mention so!
But otherwise, I'd do most anything with that man and will likely hear you out‼️
Generally I write x fem!reader, but I am open to writing for others too: gn, ftm, mtf or male readers, just include in your req! (although I may be more lacking in male or mtf because I don't have the personal experience for it)
I also don't have any plans on writing char. x char. fics, partly cuz I don't wanna get into shipping wars as a veteran and survivor of the RWBY fanbase, but also it's just not my focus
❥-》》—————➣
PLEASE NOTE: As much as I wish I could rot on tumblr all day n night and write fanfiction, sadly I can't. So, it may take me a bit to get around to writing and reqs sometimes. I do this as a casual hobby and balance it with the other stuff in my life. I try to update in A/N's or other posts when I'm busier and have less time to write, or am writing less for whatever other reason (I have chronic fatigue n sleep a lot, among other things)
Please be patient, but if you feel like it's been excessively long since you sent something in and I haven't said anything about it, feel free to send another ask about it!
Thank you all for reqs and all the love, I appreciate y'all so much 🫶
hihi ! i just read your intruders fic and it was so good, do you have any tips on how to write Daryl properly?
Hiii!!! For one, thank you 😭🫶🫶 You're so sweet (this is a little lengthy, the nerd got out)
As for writing Daryl; one of my favoritest things is media analysis, especially in regards to the structuring and development of characters: so when watching shows/movies/etc., I try to pay a lot of attention to major and minor details in the plot and a character's mannerism, actions, dialogue, etc. since I not only find it fun, but I think it really helps in giving and understanding the depth of characters writing (yes there's a lot of reading into things too much & overanalyzing, but in this house we assume everything happened for a reason and was meticulously planned ‼️) (except for when we ignore canon because sometimes writers don't know what they're doing) (*cough*, Leah)
It's pretty straightforward; it helps in learning how a character behaves, reacts and would handle certain situations (since you're essentially studying how they do it). I generally get to a point where I know a character well enough that I can see something and just be like "oh yeah they would/wouldn't like that" or "*this* is how they'd do that" (still I am guilty of indecisiveness in headcanons 😔🤞)
But beside all that, turning to other people's interpretations is also really helpful! Norman Reedus himself is obviously a good resource; listening to and reading the extra things he's said about Daryl in interviews and stuff (and what other cast/crew say too) Then of course other fan content (fanfics and headcanons are a key ones. I also end up on old reddit comment threads pretty often with people discussing episodes) I'm on his Fandom page all the time (occasionally the Survival Instinct/Onslaught specific one too, but take that one with a bigger grain of salt cause there's always gonna be inconsistencies)
I also used to be a really big role player so pretending to embody Daryl or put yourself in his shoes might also be useful(?) (I think I do this subconsciously 🗿), and I find Daryl to be very relatable so that inherently aids
I think Daryl in particular can be a more challenging character to feel like you've written "properly" (in a way that feels in character) because of how complex certain parts of his personality are (like most characters or people with years worth of trauma), and the way he handles things is very dependent on his relationship to the those involved, what it is, what period of his life it's in (like how he's much harsher and hot-headed in the early seasons, but shuts down a lot in mid seasons, but towards the last ones we get to see more of who he actually is; so his behavior is gonna vary a lot depending on context)
But don't let feeling ooc hang you up! The more you write for Daryl (or any other character), the more you'll understand him, and subsequently the better you get. No matter how long I've loved a character or how well I feel I understand them, I'll still always be having sort of realizations or developments in my thoughts
OH THIS IS A BIG THING; imagine him as a real person, blissfully ignore the word "fictional" – this helps me connect to him way more and on a deeper level because I'm viewing him as someone that genuinely exists and has experienced these things (am I little out of touch with reality?... maybe)
His thoughts, emotions, inner monologue, how all these things had an impact on his development in childhood and adulthood, etc. Eliminating the idea of him being fictional might help you see him as a fully rounded person rather than bits of writing and acting we watch and read.
Think about how real world events & circumstances would've affected him (I view him as being born in 1975, so raised post-Vietnam war, lower income in a conservative area, redneck and white trash, War on drugs, 9/11, etc.) (Some of these aren't that important in writing him, but they might help in formulating ideas about who he is/ again, understanding him) – that idea in general is important though; theorize about how certain events/ scenarios (big world things or more mundane ones) would affect him/ how he'd react to them — all this wraps into the first things I said; about analyzing his character.
Okay maybe I'm rambling now, but overall just go for it and have fun with it! As I said, the more you do it, the faster it'll come to you, and the more solid idea of Daryl you'll formulate. Everyone has different interpretations of things and I love to see how others view characters compared to my own!
