hi guyss
sorry for the delay in posts, i am shoulder deep in writers block!!
(i DO see the requests ive gotten and ive started on them so pls dont think im ignoring yall😭🫶)

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@ily66
hi guyss
sorry for the delay in posts, i am shoulder deep in writers block!!
(i DO see the requests ive gotten and ive started on them so pls dont think im ignoring yall😭🫶)
what should my next fic be🌝
daryl dixon × reader (angst)
rick grimes × reader smut (smut)
comment or use suggestions on my page for anything else you wanna see :)))
edit : (JUST noticed the spelling error i was half asleep making this shush)
(ft. fav my scene from twd ↑)
ೃ⁀➷ Lucky You
daryl dixon × f!reader
words : 3,716
summary : watching daryl fix one of the prison community cars has you riled up
warnings : smut! some season three-four spoilers! munch!daryl, ooc, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving), sub!daryl, premature ejaculation, he's not a virgin but still inexperienced
notes : imo, this is ooc bc i feel like daryl woudnt be into sex like this. that boy is vanilla asf, cant change my mind. but i do like the hc of him being a munch and subby, so here we are, and i am definitely not proofreading any of this i actually hated making this abt halfway through, so...
After the fall of Woodbury, all of its civilians now lived in the prison with your small group. Ever since, the community has just gotten bigger and bigger. That means cars were in demand, and being used constantly. That also meant that plenty of them were breaking down.
Daryl, being the assigned mechanic, has been working on one of the bigger vans you all need for packing supplies or people. It wouldn't start, for some unknown reason, and it halted a supply run completely.
You knew Daryl didn't mind this. It gave him a break from the walkers and people at the same time. Of course, you also definitely didn't mind. You stood a ways away from him, watching him. You were helping Patrick and Carol with cooking for now, but it wasn't your primary responsibility. Today was just a slow-paced one.
You chew on your bottom lip as you watch him intensely. His arms were your main focus. His sun-kissed skin was glistening with sweat that slowly helped remove the grime from those big muscles. How'd he get dirt along the entirety of his arms? No idea.
The dirt played an odd role in charming you. You were practically drooling. His muscles in his arms tightened and squeezed occasionally as he worked. His hands were collecting staining oil on them, seeing as he didn't bother with gloves.
Your eyes trail down his body, loving every inch of skin you could see, especially when his shirt would tug up with his movements. Before you know it, your gaze lands on his jeans, more so the front of them. Holy shit, he was packing! An obscene bulge pressed against the baggy denim of his jeans, making his zipper glint in the sunlight.
Your name being shouted takes you out of your perverted staring. Your head snaps over in the direction of the noise. You see Carol watching you, a knowing grin on her lips. Her pretty eyes are upturned as she laughs.
"Could you be anymore obvious?" She teases, watching you grin back at her. You were shy to share your inappropriate thoughts with the woman. You knew you probably should've, considering she was seriously close to Daryl and could easily narc on you.
You shrug, your eyes trailing back to him shamelessly.
"Come on, let me enjoy this. Modern day porn right in front of me and you're teasing me." You quip back, your wide eyes watching him closely again.
"Daryl!" Carol suddenly calls. You jump, your dazed eyes snapping away and to her instead. Your face was tinted a soft red hue now, knowing Daryl probably caught on to this. Carol's big grin, your red face, how quickly you turned away when she called for him. Gosh, you were so getting payback on her.
She lifts up a paper plate with some food on it, signalling him to get his portion before everyone else. He immediately complies, barely wiping his hands down before heading over. That same flaunting walk as always.
You lean close to Carol, whispering something to her before he could get close enough to hear.
"Walks like it's heavy," you whisper softly, making both of you immediately laugh.
"What'ch'a gosspin' 'bout now?" He asks, taking the plate from Carol as he immediately starts digging into the freshly cooked meal.
Before you could respond, a nervous laugh is heard behind the three of you. Apparently you weren't the only one admiring Daryl.
"Hi, M-Mr. Dixon!" A nervous Patrick squeaks, grinning up at him. You grin, thankful that he interrupted and also just actually entertained by this.
You always loved watching Daryl try to interact with the new members of the community. They were all admiring him, while he didn't understand why. You didn't know how he didn't get it. How handsome and reliable he was made him seemingly perfect for anyone to see.
You watch him with slightly lidded eyes, seeing as Patrick continues pestering him. The boy shakily asks for a handshake, the ultimate honor code in his mind, apparently. Daryl looks over at you, seeing your lust bridled eyes and slightly amused glint. He licks his fingers, one by one, sucking the juice off of the thick, dirty digits. He then, slaps his palm into the boys, expecting a grossed out expression. Instead, Patrick simply looked ecstatic, immediately thanking him before getting back to work.
Daryl looks back over to you and Carol, who were both grinning. He shakes his head a little.
"You could spit in their face and they'd be honored, Daryl. What're you gonna do with that kind of fame?" You tease, grinning at him.
"We liked you first, remember that," Carol adds.
He simply rolls his eyes, finishing his food, before sauntering back over to that van he had been working on all morning.
You make sure he's out of earshot before you let out a low wolf whistle, making Carol laugh again, her teasing switching to you now.
Soon enough, you excuse yourself to bother Daryl again. You walk excitedly along until you're next to Daryl, who was bent slightly, still working.
"What?" He asks in a brute tone.
"What? It's hot over there so I wanted to come over here." You say, giving a definite excuse.
"It's hot ever'where. It's called summer, dumbass," he spits back.
"Astounding observation. Maybe I'm just tired of hearing the little guy gushing about you? I think your fan club is expanding even more."
"Nah, you would've jus' said that. You lyin' 'gain?" He says, immediately seeing right through your facade. You pause for a moment, a little lopsided grin on your lips.
"Fine. Maybe I just like watching a hot man work. Didn't realize that was a crime in your book," you announce with a proud grin. Of course, his face is immediately bright red.
"What'ch'a call me?"
"Hot working man. Sexy would work too. Pretty boy..-"
"Shut it. Now." He demands harshly. His face was hued red, and definitely not from the heat. You laugh softly, but not teasing anymore. You hold your hands up in a mock surrender.
"Yes sir!" You say, like how Patrick would, making him roll his eyes.
You leave him there, going up to walk by Carol again.
"I'm totally winning him over. Old fashioned courting with a hint of catcalls does the trick." You say with a sarcastic tone, leaning forward so your ass stuck out a little.
"I was going to say you're being dramatic, but he's definitely checking you out right now." She says, making you immediately break out in a bright grin. You turn, looking over your shoulder and see what she said was true. He was staring right at you, his hand fidgeting with a rag. He was looking at the swell of your jeans, the embroidered hearts on your back pockets alluring to him. The poor thing was damn near drooling. Your eyes slide down to his hips again, seeing how a bigger tent sat in the front of his jeans.
You wanted nothing more than to jump him right there. You could already imagine him underneath you, riding him, whining as he's about to cum.
ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ
It's later that night, you're lying down in your cell. You, luckily, were some of the few who still had a cell all to themselves. You think about Daryl, again. You haven't seen him since you caught him checking you out so obviously. You remember how his skin glinted like diamonds in the sunlight. Those fierce blue eyes as he looks you up and down. The way he sucked the stickiness from his fingers had you imagining him licking and sucking something else like that.
You exhale softly, your eyes shut as you slip your fingertips into your jeans and then panties. You just start to rub little circles into your wet folds when a noise snaps your eyes open.
You see Daryl, the man of the hour, standing right there. His eyes were wide, his lips a tight line. You pull your hand from your pants, sitting up a little.
"There's this new invention called knocking, you hear about it?" You tease. He expected you to be enraged at being spied on like this, but instead, you look relaxed and actually more excited.
"Uh.. C- Carol told me you wanted to- to, uh, see me." He says nervously, looking at the floor tensely. You stand up, inching a little closer.
"Think she's playing matchmaker again. I didn't ask for you-" With that, he's immediately backing up, like it was you telling him to get lost. You quickly grab his wrist, not harshly, but firmly. You tug him a little closer.
"Doesn't mean I don't like your company. I'm sure you could be useful. Plus, I'd feel rude sending you away with this.." you whisper softly, your free hand dropping to his waistband. His breath hitches softly as he instinctively flinches away. It only takes a few moments of your gentle ministrations for him to lean a little closer.
"Want me to help you with this, hm?" You ask, your fingertips brushing against the prominent bulge. He shudders softly before nodding quickly. You slowly release his wrist before adjusting him to be on your bed. You lie him down, positioning yourself over him on the bed. Your knees tuck underneath you, your hands trailing up from his crotch to his chest and wide shoulders. You cup his jaw softly, his eyes still looking away.
"Daryl, look at me." You order softly, your thumb pressing along his bottom lip. His eyes hesitantly meet yours, and you can feel his face heating up.
"N-.. never done it.. not like this, at least." He grumbles quietly.
"Like this?"
"So.. slow. With someone so purdy.. 'n sweet." He whispers into the crisp night air. He looked like he was about to bolt out of there, despite your knee being in between his thighs and his almost innocent words.
You brush his hair back, out of his face and behind his ear. You sigh softly, something close to a little moan. His eyes watch you so intensely now.
"Can't help myself, not with you. Wasn't lying when I said you're such a pretty boy." You murmur. You lean closer and closer until your noses are practically touching. He shudders softly again and you press your lips to his, finally, after months of wanting him.
The kiss quickly deepens into a full make out, consisting of him making soft noises into it. You leaned your body forward, feeling his hard length on your thigh. You feel it twitch in his pants at the contact, his hands squeezing and tensing on the sheets under him.
"You can touch me, baby.. touch me, Daryl." You whisper hotly on his lips. Immediately, his rough hands come up to your hips, squeezing there. He groans into the wet kiss, your tongues intertwined. He squeezes your waist now, a hand pressing into the small of your back. You slowly grind down into his thigh, letting his hard-on rub on yours. He groans loudly this time, pulling away to quickly hide his face in your shoulder. He pants and moans into your neck.
You pause in realization. He just came. He came in his pants from some kissing and light rubbing. You can feel his cheek burning against your skin.
"Fff- fuck. 'm sorry," he growls quietly, obviously embarrassed.
You huff, your hands sliding up to hold the back of his neck.
"Did you-?"
"Said 'm sorry.." he repeats.
"Don't, that was so fucking hot. So hot, you know that? You can cum from just kissing and little touches? How is that not hot?" You continue, kissing his head. He doesn't respond this time, just keeps his face hidden from you.
"How about this? You.. help me with your fingers, maybe your mouth, and after we see if you're up for another round? See if I can take care of you properly." You ask, seeing if he'd agree. He perked up upon hearing you allow him to help you. He nods quickly, eager to please you, especially after cumming so early on.
You nod back, slowly moving to adjust the position so you were now laying down. Daryl moves so he's in between your thighs. He looks at you, watching as you nod again, before he starts removing your belt. He tosses it on the ground, unbuttoning your jeans with his other hand. He quickly unzips it, obviously excited for this.
He suddenly pauses, his breath hitching. You look down at what he hesitated on and grinned. A sewn in patch on the inside of your jeans, just behind the zipper. It's red and says "Lucky You" with a little heart. Just below your jean waistline was a soft cotton pair of panties which are white and laced. He moans softly at the sight, his thumb reaching up to press against the wet spot of your panties. You exhale, moaning softly.
"Thought of you when I got these. Found them on a run.. couldn't wait to have you actually seen them." You admit softly, smiling down at him. He presses his lips to your clothed mound. You sigh softly again. He presses his nose against it, inhaling for a moment.
"Smell so fuckin' good, girl.." he grumbles into your pussy. He tugs your panties down, kissing every inch of revealed skin. You're so glad you were able to find a decent razor before this. He yanks down your tight jeans, kissing your pussy before he pulls your panties down too. He tugs them until they're both at your knees. He moves so your legs are over his shoulders, his face right next to your bare pussy. He doesn't hold back anymore, immediately slipping his tongue out to taste you. He moans and presses his mouth deeper into your wet sex. His nose is just above your clit, inhaling your scent as he tastes you everywhere with his fast moving tongue.
He continues moaning, making the sweetest vibrations against you. His tongue presses flat on your bud, moving it slowly to drag out the pleasure. He then slips it lower, pressing the tip of his tongue on your entrance. All the while you're mewling. One hand is muffling the noise, the other in his hair, holding him against you. You tighten your thighs around his head, keeping him locked in place.
It doesn't take long at all for your climax to approach. Your back arches off the bed. You press his face deeper into your pussy, which he obliges with a contented moan. He could stay there forever. Right as you're teetering on the edge, you see him grinding his hips down into the hard mattress beneath you two. That's more than enough for you to cum on his mouth, not even needing the assistance of his fingers. He moans as he quickly eats it up, cleaning you as well as he could.
"That was so good, pretty boy.. please let me take care of you, I need it." You plead softly, looking down at him as he continues kissing your sensitive pussy. He almost gets lost in it again if it weren't for your words. He slowly pulls away, nodding a little. He sits up carefully, taking his place on his back again. You quickly kick off your bottoms before you straddle him again. This time, your full focus is on the growing length beneath your pussy. You rub it through the rough denim for a moment, watching him with a grin as he squirmed. You remove his belt and jeans quickly, not wanting to spare another moment away from his cock.
You pull it out, the heavy limb in your soft palms. You move down his legs slightly, bending over so your mouth was by his dick. It twitches in your palm, leaking steadily while begging for attention. You look up at him as you place the meaty tip into your mouth. He immediately moans throatily, his hips bucking. You choke slightly before quickly swallowing down more of his impressive length.
His hips stutter and he quickly taps your cheek with the pads of his fingertips.
"Fuckk.. baby, get off, please, I'm gonna cum.." he groans softly, his member twitching with restraint. You pull off tortuously slowly, pressing your palm to his length as you sit up again. You grin down at him.
"You're so sensitive. Was it like this the other times you've had sex?" You ask, genuinely curious. He quickly shakes his head no, looking away.
"Oh, yeah? Just like me that much, huh?" You tease, to which he obediently nods. You reach down, grabbing both of his wrists carefully. You tug them up, placing his cupped hands right on your breasts. He shudders, his cock twitching against your soft thigh. He squeezes slowly, as if trying to adjust to the realness of the situation, that he wasn't having another dream. He continues groping your tits through your flannel, rubbing slowly. His entire focus is on them now. You're making soft noises, pressing your face into his broad shoulder. You slowly unbutton your top, revealing more and more skin for him to see. Daryl's eyes widen as he watches, slowly removing his hands only to immediately latch on again. Now, he could feel even more of your soft skin.
"Off, take it off too," he demands, but his voice isn't harsh. You know what he means, and quickly unclasped your bra, letting it cascade off of you. You feel his rough hands squeeze again. He groans softly as he feels your nipples pebble into his palm. He leans up a little, kissing your tits and nipples softly as he continues squeezing them.
As he's occupied with your tits, you slip a hand in between you two. You grab his still throbbing dick, squeezing softly. He moans against your breasts, looking up at you through his lashes. You guide his cock until the head is pressed against your entrance. You grind forward, humming, until it slowly sinks in. Daryl sits back, gasping softly as your tight heat embraces him.
He grips your hips, squeezing there. His hips buck again, slipping his cock all the way inside of you. You moan louder, feeling stuffed by him.
"Oh, fuckk.. fuck, yes, baby. Go slow.." he says quietly, not wanting to cum early again. He'd be beyond embarrassed if he accidentally came as soon as you sank down.
"Le' me hold 'em. Need you so fucking bad, girl." He groans, his hands trailing to your tits to squeeze them again.
"Oh my gosh.. so big, Daryl.. feels so fucking good, gonna make me cum so quick," you mewl, leaning back as you start grinding harder. He bucks his hips up again, trying to urge you to bounce on his dick. You do just that as you start bouncing on it for him, making you both groan in sync. You lean down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss as you ride him. Your tits would've been bouncing if it weren't for his tight hold on then still. You tug him by the hairs on his neck, kissing him deeper.
Like Daryl said, he wasn't a virgin. He was pushing forty, of course he wasn't a virgin anymore. The few times he did have sex were with women Merle would have around their house. He'd pay for about an hour, and "accidentally" get two girls instead of one. He lasted far longer with these girls, but that was also because he could hardly even get his dick to chub up.
With you, though? You've had his dick hard all day, just from making measly eye contact. You've got him so attached that he's been using his fist more than he was as a teenager. Cold showers are his next option, which he's taken quite a few already.
He rocks his head back, hips snapping up to meet yours with each bounce. He moans loudly, the muscles in his arms tensing as that familiar coil tugs at him.
"Fuck, girl! Don't stop, don't fuckin' stop.. so close!-" he whines, whimpering at each squeeze. He couldn't believe you could get tighter than you already were.
You lean forward desperately, trying to connect your lips again to silence your moans as you weren't truly alone.
He suddenly releases your tits, instead clutching your hips to help bounce you as he rutted into you shamelessly.
"So fucking needy, huh? Like you're in heat, come on, baby.." you taunt. Your words are muffled on his lips as he whimpers. Before you know it, you're pushed harshly over the edge, your back arching forward as your climax ricochets throughout your body. You whine, squeezing Daryl's cock impossibly tight. He whimpers and moans loudly into your neck, his climax immediately following.
You see stars as you feel like you're floating, your body immediately wanting to go limp. You barely even feel Daryl slowly moving the both of you. He places you on your back on the mattress, his cock slipping out slowly. He huffs and pants into your soft, bare shoulder. He squirms, grabbing some discarded clothes. He gets his boxer-briefs back on, and grabs your flannel.
He shuffles into his clothes before carefully moving onto you. He slips the warm top over your head, your hair fluffing out at the contact. He slowly puts your limp arms where they belong in the shirt. Kissing your jaw softly, his stubble scratching your face, he pushes some of your hair from your face. Your hair, like a halo, circles around your head on the pillow. Your eyes were barely open and a faint mark sits on your neck where he hid more than once tonight.
He shifts, wrapping you up in his arms, kissing along your face softly without any care. When he hears your tired giggles, a faint, soft smile appears on his lips.
He knew he should be helping you clean up. You'd cum twice and have his own seed inside you now. He also knew you'd complain if he dared move away. He silently swore to help you in the morning, but until then, he was perfectly content wrapping you up in his big strong arms that started all of this.
.ೃ࿐ Hum Me A Lullaby
rick grimes × reader
words : 1,515
Summary : being stuck in the barn leaves you a sweet domestic moment to none other than Rick and Judith Grimes.
warnings : major season five spoilers! mild cussing, grief, CORNY!! fluff, a little ooc, mentioned public singing just in case you get secondhand embarrassment from that lmao
notes : first rick x reader fic and i actually really like it! again i tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, but can come off feminine/submissive, i guess, not fully proofread!
Beth Greene's death was something that affected everyone. Maggie and Daryl were the most deeply struck by this turn of events, the two sharing a silent bond of grief.
Little baby Judith was another one. Most people wouldn't even spare a thought on the subject, seeing as she was just an infant and wouldn't even remember her.
What people didn't think of, was how dependent Judith was on the girl. Singing the baby to sleep was a nightly routine, and now that Beth is gone, she's restless. She can't settle and fusses despite everyone's attempts at comforting her.
Most nights were full of discontented little cries as Rick held her tight, refusing to loosen his grip on her in the slightest. You, frankly, were tired of it. You didn't like how even a baby couldn't get comfortable. You didn't like how Rick seemingly just let it happen, too.
Everyone in the barely surviving group was sleeping in a rugged old barn, at least for the night. Just to your luck, you ended up right next to the Grimes family. More specifically, you were right next to Rick and the blonde baby in his arms. Of course, she was awake long after everyone else. Her usually bright blue eyes seemed beady now, staring right at you. Her lips are pursed as she babbles softly, making intense eye contact.
"Hey, Judy.. what're you doing up, baby?" You whisper softly to her, scooting a little closer to her, and ultimately, Rick.
She babbles a little louder, spitting little bubbles as she wiggled. You watch Rick, seeing as his eyelids flutter but don't open. You sigh softly, reaching a hand out, letting Judith clamp her chubby hand on your fingers.
"What is it, hm? Why ain't you snoozing? Do you not like Daddy's beard, is that it? Too scratchy for you, huh?" You ask, as if she could answer. Your voice gets more high pitch as you speak to her in a cute little tone. A sweet grin accompanies your speech.
"My beard's fine," Rick grumbles. You jump a little at his voice, having expected some more soft cooing from Judith. Your wide eyes shoot up to meet Rick's fierce blue ones.
"Didn't realize you and Judith gossip after everyone goes to sleep. Sure you aren't the reason she isn't sleepin'?" Rick teases lightly, which is a rarity in times like this.
You roll your eyes before returning your attention to Judith who was wiggling around in Rick's grip. She was obviously excited that both her daddy and the next closest person were also awake with her.
She squeals softly, making you laugh at the shrill sound. You squirm a little, your hips rocking forward as you hide your face while you laugh. She apparently saw the positive reaction and took it in herself to repeat the noise. Rick scoffs and tries to cover her mouth as you continue laughing.
"You're encouraging her. Shut it," he orders.
"I'm not peer pressuring her, she's just a comedic genius. Not sure where she gets it from. Did you have a really funny uncle, by any chance?" You tease right back. You reach your hands out a little more, signalling for Rick to release the little girl.
He watches you for a moment, hesitating. He huffs softly, looking down at her as she jumps around. He really did want a break from her constant wiggles that shook him from his slumber. He slowly shuffles her over, his eyes softening as he watches her. She spins her head around, like she still wasn't used to the weight of it yet.
You smile softly, tucking her against your chest, similarly to how Rick had been holding her earlier.
"I think she's a lullaby baby. It makes sense if you think about it. She's been sung to ever since she was a little newborn. Maybe she just wants some songs to sleep to?" You theorize. You wanted to subtly bring this up without mentioning Beth. You knew mentioning her would only bring back some unresolved and buried emotions from the both of you.
Rick sighs softly, his arms now unoccupied. He simply shrugs.
You press a soft kiss to her head, feeling her fat little arms wrap around you as she snuggles closer to your chest. You pause, hesitating and weighing the choices.
You hum softly, something soft and melodical. It's quiet, but still breaks through the stiff silence of the cramped barn. Judith startles slightly, looking up at your mouth as if trying to place the source of the sound.
She yawns softly, as if suddenly realizing how tired she actually is. Your humming continues, ringing soft in her and Rick's ears. He watches on in admiration. His eyes aren't wide, but they're softer around the edges as he watches your face closely. His plump lips part slightly as his jaw relaxes. He closes them again after a moment of silently watching you hum sweetly to his daughter.
His instincts were going wild. Watching you, such a sweet thing, holding his baby and humming to her so she could sleep. Also, the fact that Judith obviously likes you, didn't help this situation.
Father like daughter, he himself starts to become drowsy up on hearing your humming. He vaguely feels the tingling of memory when hearing your humming, but he doesn't know the actual song.
"You're good at that." He informs you, watching your expression closely. You smile honestly, watching him with that same intensity.
"Good at humming? I think everyone is. But, at least Little Lady is finally out. Poor girl was exhausting herself," you say softly, looking down at the little bundle pressed to your chest. Your smile softens as you see the domestic sight in front of you. It almost makes you forget about the ever approaching threat of danger, that and the fact you're in a barn surrounded by sweaty and dead-tired people.
"Looks like it worked on you two, huh?" You tease, smiling at Rick's drooping eyelids. You scoot a little closer, your bent knees brushing against his thighs.
He rolls his eyes again, but instead of just shutting you out, he reaches forward. His rough hand grabs your hip, tugging you closer. Up until your legs were pressing against his and Judith was between your chests. She seemed beyond content like this, as did Rick. His hand slips to hold the small of your back.
"Your scratchy beard is going to keep me up all night," you quip. A grin sits on your lips upon seeing Rick narrow his eyes at you. He moves forward a little more, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. When you laugh at the soft tickle of his facial hair, he grins against your skin.
"Deal with it." He grumbles tiredly, holding you and Judith close, Carl not far behind this little bundle.
Your hand that isn't holding Judith comes up to slip your fingers onto his jaw. Your palm is poked by his beard, your fingers pressed above and below his ear. He watches you closely, not allowing his gaze to slip away even for a moment.
You watch him in silence for a moment, looking between his eyes. Right as you lean in a little to press a kiss to his forehead, he pulls you down to connect your lips. The kiss is more of just a press of lips together, both of you savoring the peaceful moment. You press another kiss to his lips before you both slowly fall into a rhythm.
Rick pulls you a little closer by your hips, keeping a hand sprawled across your back and waist. His lips continue pressing into yours softly until you both get into a gradual make out session. You hum softly against his plump lips, biting his bottom one. He groans softly into the kiss, leaning a bit closer.
"Fuck-"
Suddenly Rick pulls away quickly, groaning in pain now. Your eyebrows furrow.
"Woah, what-" before you could even finish your question you see the issue. Little Judith apparently woke up again from the movement. From the position you two were in, his scruffy beard and chest were probably pushing against her. She had a little hand on it, tugging slightly. You immediately fall into sweet laughter, your shoulders shaking and your eyes glinting.
"Judith.." Rick groans, annoyed both at the moment being ruined and the fact she still wouldn't let go.
You press a soft kiss to the side of her head, pressing your index finger into the bottom of her foot, making her giggle and release his beard finally. He immediately moves her down a little further so she's now by your stomach. He grumbles softly, pressing his face back into the crook of your neck, this time staying there.
You hold Judith there in one arm, and your other hand is up in Rick's greasy hair, brushing it back.
You hum a sweet tune again, willing them both into a blissful slumber yet again.
You couldn't have been more content than in this moment, despite it all.
ೃ⁀➷ Florescence
daryl dixon × f!reader
words : 1,397
summary : daryl places a flower behind carol's ear, and it gives you an idea
warnings : season two spoilers! This is following what happens in season two, but not strictly, so the timelines are probably going to be a little off. Usual TWD violence mentioned, fluff, CORNY!!
notes : i had the prompt, but had no idea how to piece it together nor end it, so super duper corny lol. only made this a fem!reader because i didnt know what other pet name to have daryl use besides girl, so im sorry bout that. also, not fully proofread, i cant stand reading my own stuff :)
Morale was low, which considering the situation, wasn't that odd. The quarry had been overrun, the people you got to know for months dying in front of you. Then, it was the CDC. The false hope for a brand new start was momentary, seeing as it only lasted a blissfully ignorant twenty hours.
Now, everyone was clamored around a white house, surrounded by a haven of fields. Sophia was missing, Carl was shot, Shane and T-Dog were injured, and the kind man named Otis was dead as the result of scouting out medical supplies for the little Grimes boy.
You soon meet the blinding gaze belonging to the ragged Daryl Dixon. He was a hostile man, but you had taken careful notice of his "hidden" demeanour. You could tell, with these little glances sent to you oh, so often, that he was watching. Not in a creepy way, but more so as if he was trying to keep track of you. Like he wanted to ensure you weren't harmed in the small intervals between your sightings. If that didn't scream sweet, you didn't know what would.
As your eyes met his gaze, his fierce blue eyes immediately dropped to the ground. He turns, going to find a place to set his own tent up, as everyone else was doing. Hershel, the owner of this farmland, agreed to the group staying until Carl healed and we found Sophia.
Some time passes on the seemingly calm farm. Despite finally receiving what people would call a blessing nowadays, everyone was behaving like little children. People were treating Carol poorly for the mere hope she held onto about her daughter still being alive out there.
Daryl had even gotten hurt in the midst of all the teenage-like gossip. He speared himself upon one of his arrows and returned hardly alive, carrying Sophia's dolly with him.
You had been taking care of him inside the Greene house. That was, until he retreated to his tent on the outskirts of the farmland.
You were trailing around the campsite, offering people food in hopes of everyone cooling off some of their stress. Daryl was one of the last people you tackled, despite him having a gravitational pull of anxiety and stress to him.
You're walking towards his self-proclaimed spot by the treeline. You can see him hunched against a tree, his hands are tense as he angrily sheds the shavings off of a stick.
"Daryl?"
"Ain't fishing anyone f'r y'a neither, girl." He says immediately in response, his jaw tight with barely bottled anger.
Your eyebrows furrow as you look down at him, then over your shoulder. You had passed an angry Lori on your way over, and seeing his expression kind of pieced it together.
"What? No, I'm just out here to see you. You haven't been around everyone else much anymore.. well, besides Carol." You say, looking down at him with a tilted head.
Before he could even muster a response, you plop down next to him, offering a smile when he looks at you. Your gaze drops down to his hands, watching curiously for a moment.
"Saw that flower you gave Carol. It's really pretty. I think she's wearing it in her hair now, actually," you begin. Obviously, you were trying to get some sort of a conversation out of him. He only responds with a grunt.
"Have you ever had flowers in your hair before?" You quiz, trying to get some response from him.
He looks up at you, his eyes narrowing. His hands halt in action for a moment. A scowl appears on his dry lips.
"Don't make fun'a me. Not in the mood." He says, making your eyebrows furrow again. His gaze lowers again, glaring at the stick like it was the source of all his moodiness.
"I'm not making fun? Just curious... So, that means no?" You continue, your hands fidgeting in your lap.
He huffs and turns his focus to you again.
"No. Ain't no girl, don't need any'a that shit on me. Merle'd kick ma' ass if he saw that." He says quietly, sounding more defensive than authoritative like he wanted.
You hum, acknowledging his words as you watch him back with just as much intensity in your gaze. You purse your lips slightly in thought, looking in the little meadow of grass around you two.
Up came blossoming wildflowers, popping up beautifully as if they didn't get the memo that the word was over.
You pluck one, a pretty little daisy, and twirl it around in between your fingers. You watch it, admiring the way the petals would twist in the wind. You looked back up to see Daryl already watching you. You smile, leaning forward a little, the daisy raised in your hand.
He immediately backs up, lowering his head a little closer to his shoulders as he avoids your hand. His back is now fully pressed against the tree stump, watching as you continue your ministrations.
Your tongue pokes out between your lips in concentration.
"What'ch'a doin', girl? Quit it," he says, attempting to be stern.
"Nothing, just stay still for a second. You won't even feel it." You say, before quickly placing the daisy halfheartedly into his greasy hair.
"Jus' said Merle'd-"
"Well he's not here, is he? It's just us, Daryl. Frankly, I like this look too, so quit worrying." You say, ordering him like a petulant little kid.
He glares up at you. You'd be dead if looks could kill. You simply smile back, showing him his dumb façade wasn't working on you. You reach around, plucking up another wildflower before placing it into his hair too.
Surprisingly, he didn't twist away anymore, but still grumbled harsh words under his breath.
Soon, you've gotten plenty of those little flowers into his dark hair. It was an odd sight, but so endearing. He looked up at you, his cheeks tinted red as you just stared at him.
"What're ya starin' f'r, girl? It's annoyin'." He deems, tearing his gaze away and back to his lap.
"You look nice, that's why I'm staring. You're not glaring like a kid forced in a ugly Christmas sweater anymore. That means I can see those big blue eyes too," you tease, a grin already breaking out onto your lips.
This comment got his face even more red, even reaching to the tips of his ears. He groans, glaring at the ground now.
You tuck a strand of his brown hair back, making sure his face wasn't as hidden as he wanted.
"You know, you're probably the only person that would let me do this. Everyone else is too piled up in their own issues, especially that whole love-triangle thing. Thank you, Daryl," you say as sweetly as possible.
He pauses, looking up at you. It was true, everyone was occupied in their own stuff. The group was starting to crack, and at any moment, would shatter.
"What'ch'a thankin' me f'r? Ain't done nothin'." He says quietly, looking at you, trying to understand what was going on in that mind of yours.
"Well, that's a lie. You've been doing more than anyone else here. While everyone else is busy with their own issues, you're providing for the group in more ways than one. Plus, this was really fun. I loved seeing you get all red. It was cute," you say, a grin appearing at the end of your little speech.
"Ain't cute neither-" he's interrupted by the press of your lips to his forehead. You kiss just below where Andrea's bullet grazed. He becomes rigid, his mind going blank. You pull away, smiling down at him.
"Thank you, Daryl." You repeat smugly, knowing your effect on him.
Despite the innocence of your actions, you might as well have done this most intimate act with him right there, seeing how he was now.
You laugh softly before getting up and leaving him like that. His face burns red, his eyes stuck glaring at the ground. His body was tense, and, of course, flowers bloomed from his dark hair.
Much like the symbolism of them growing from the ground, they gave Daryl some hope for this world and the splitting group. His hope grew because of you and your presence.
You were his own version of those pretty wildflowers, now sitting on the top of his head.
i NEED twd fic suggestions pls im so uncreative
ೃ⁀➷ Healer's Touch
daryl dixon × reader
1,335 words
summary : after an incident that ends in daryl being bedridden, you take care of him and replace his bandages.
warnings : season two spoilers! brief depiction of blood and injuries, kind of andrea slander, corny fluff, possibly out of character idk this is my first fix. i tried making sure the reader's character was as ambiguous as possible, but may seem submissive/feminine.
notes: not proofread fully! this is my first fic and kind of uneventful, but i feel like this is how daryl would respond. pls give me requests for this show im begging i loved writing this, im just not creative😭💗
"Walker!" A sudden shout rang throughout the usually calm fields. The shriek belonged to no other than Andrea, who stood atop the RV, holding the rifle lent to her.
Shane and Rick immediately fall into step, running by quickly. You're not far behind. You see Andrea eyeing the rifle resting on her lawn chair.
"Do not touch that! We've got it!" You announce quickly, pointing a stern finger at her. You don't wait for a response, but continue sprinting after Rick and Shane.
You see them frozen in their spot, and the supposed walker was suddenly still as well. Your running slows into long steps, soon arriving next to the others. You make eye contact with Daryl, bloodied and delirious. Your mouth opens, about to speak, when a sudden shot rings out.
Daryl collapses to the ground with a harsh thud, making you let out a shocked yelp. Shane whips around, immediately yelling at Andrea, moving his arms to signal her to stop.
You immediately drop to your knees, as does Rick. You carefully cup his cheeks, letting your fingers slip down to press them into his pulse point. It was there. You tilt his head to the side, examining the new wound. His side was all bloody, a new cut went from his temple to the side of his head.
He grumbles something. His eyelids stay shut, but fluttering. He's very much alive. You feel your body relax for just a moment, your shoulders slumping. Sudden anger shoots through you soon after your terror slips from your bones.
Rick and Shane hoist him up by his shoulders as they hurry back to Hershel's farmhouse. You trail behind them, trying to ignore the rage boiling inside of you.
You and Daryl had a good relationship, or that's what you hope at least. You're friends of sorts. He doesn't show his affection very well, but he uses such subtle ways to express it. So subtle you almost miss it sometimes.
You almost had your anger controlled, when Andrea stepped in front of you as you were trying to get inside of the house as well.
"Was that Daryl? Is he okay?"
"What do you think?" You ask angrily, shoving her out of your way. Her eyes widen as she stumbles backwards a few steps. You rush up the porch steps, running inside as fast as possible.
It takes a while, seeing as Hershel had plenty to do before Daryl would be okay for visitors. Soon enough he was left alone, still asleep. His stitches were in, which meant his torso was bare.
As you're approaching his room, you see Carol leaving, her head down as she moves quickly. You knew Daryl had a tendency to be a bit abrasive, but you were sure he wouldn't do anything to Carol of all people.
You knock softly, slowly opening the door. You see him, awake but annoyed. He shoots a glare up at you, not liking his peace being interrupted so much at a time like this. The blanket was tucked up to his chin, a bandage wrapped around his forehead.
"What?" He asks harshly, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You hesitate for a moment, blinking. You approach carefully, as if he was a skittish animal.
"I'm on bandage duty. Move over," you say, situating everything. He pauses. You, at the moment, don't know why, but he looks nervous. His hands fidget and tug on his fingers. He ever so slowly turns so his back is facing you.
"Why ya'?" He asks plainly, hiding his face in the pillows as you peel away the blanket. You pause for a moment, seeing those horrid scars. They're engraved in his pale skin, unnaturally pink. It's partially covered by the slightly red hued bandages.
"Why not me? Thought you liked me," you tease lightly, trying to hold in any reactions. You could feel him tense somehow even more under your gaze. He goes silent. He was also trying to hold back his words. He wanted to lash out at you as much as you wanted to ask about the marks.
You reach your hand up, beginning to remove the used bandages with the careful snip of scissors.
"Almost pounced on Andrea for that." You say quietly, your fingertips brushing against his side as you clean up the wound again.
"Don't need'y'a standin' up f'r me." He spits out. You pause in your ministrations.
"What's got your panties in a twist?" You teased again, trying to relax him, but it, of course, didn't work.
You both remain in a tense silence as you finish bandaging the fresh stitches. Just as Daryl thinks you're about to leave, you sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over him slightly. You reach your hand up, carefully removing the bandage around his head.
"Quit squirming, it'll be done soon," you say softly.
"Don't need'y'a seeing me like this neither..." He mumbles, glaring at the wall in front of him as if it personally offended him.
Your fingertips brush his greasy brown strands back. He flinches, ducking his head away again. You carefully wrap the bandages around his temple, letting your fingertips continuously brush against his head.
You were training him, like a dog, to accept your gentle ministrations. Soon enough, he wasn't flinching with each little brush of your fingers, but he kept his face hidden.
Once the wrapping is done, you lean over him a little more, pressing your knee to his shoulder blade. Boldness overtakes you as you lead down. You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, minding his temple.
"Goodnight, D." You say softly, pressing your hand on his broad shoulder. He tenses, freezing up. You stand up, expecting more of that agonizing silence from him. As you're turning away, he suddenly clutches your hand.
"Don't-.. uh, you don't hafta go."
You tilt your head, your eyebrow rising, your hand in his. He slowly lets go, heat flushing up his chest and to the tips of his ears.
"D-.. do you want me to stay? Is Daryl Dixon asking me to stay with him?" You ask, a grin breaking out on your face. His face goes bright red, and he rolls his eyes. He glares at you.
"Shuddup." He says sternly. You laugh softly as you move to sit down again, tucking your legs together. You sigh softly, watching as he moves around to be lying on his back.
You two fall into easy conversation, if you could call it that. It was more so you were talking and he would listen silently.
Sometime in the middle of your rambling, you started slipping into a quiet slumber. You had been sitting on the ground, having gotten tired of sitting in the chair or edge of the bed. Your head was against the side of the mattress, your eyes falling shut.
"Hey.. come on, y'ain't sleepin' on the floor." He says in a slightly hushed tone. He reaches over, touching your head with a hesitant hand, nudging you slightly. You make a tired noise before pulling yourself up to be on the bed as well. Your face immediately buries itself in his shoulder on the opposite side of his injury.
Daryl reaches over, tugging the comforter over you as well, his hand brushing against your body as he covers you up.
He waits for a little while, watching your face to ensure your slumber was there. He hesitantly reaches over, his hand shaking slightly. He brushes his rough palm against the side of your face.
"Hm? Y' that tired?" Upon no response, he sighs softly. He presses his cheek to the top of your head.
"G'night, sweetheart." He whispers softly. He kisses your forehead softly before yanking away like you burnt him. He tugs the blanket up, hiding away in it as his face turns red for what seems the hundredth time that night.
Maybe it never stopped being red since the moment you walked in that room.