I wish more Daryl fics included his adoptive children (Judith, R.J, Lydia, even Beth) I feel like there is so many opportunities for cute family fluff fics.
I wish people loved Murphy Macmanus like I do. He's so fine and sexy and I desperately need more fanfics of him. I would take literally anything at this point
I am severely disappointed in the lack of trailer park Daryl Dixon fics this 4th of July. And by lack of I mean ABSOLUTELY ZERO!! Truly a disappointed I expect better next year
Did I write this because I'm procrastinating on writing my ex bf!Daryl series because I got stuck on a specific scene and can't get past it? Yes. It's fine. I'm fine. Enjoy the fruits of my procrastination!
Give me Daryl Dixon who's just so fucking weird. Like really, genuinely off-putting to be around if you don't know him well.
Daryl Dixon whose mannerisms make him seem threatening. I.e. skinning/gutting game without really having to look at it, standing entirely too still while staring like a predator when you're talking to him, violently jerking/twitching when he feels like he's being looked at too long, standing slightly too close/slightly too far away at any given time without ever figuring out a normal distance, etc.
Daryl Dixon who eats like a wild animal, growling at anyone that gets too close and all, because he's never been sure of when he'd get his next meal.
Daryl Dixon who stares too much and talks too little for most people to be comfortable getting close.
Daryl Dixon who swings wildly between feeling absolutely nothing and feeling so much he wants to tear his skin open to get away from it.
Daryl Dixon who can't cry about things that matter to most people, but will fucking lose it one day without warning over something fairly insignificant. But only if he's alone.
Daryl Dixon who has never had a normal, functional relationship in his entire life. Not platonic. Certainly not romantic (god knows if he's ever even had a romantic relationship). I mean, fuck, his closest relationship of any kind for most of his life was whatever trauma bond, semi (if not outright) abusive thing he had going on with Merle. There's no way that did anything good for his outlook on healthy relationships.
Daryl Dixon who knows he's weird.
Daryl Dixon who knows he fucking scares people.
Daryl Dixon who is absolutely fucking miserable because he knows that there is something fundamentally wrong with him that he can't seem to fix.
Daryl Dixon who is so desperate for connection, so starved for it, that it's almost pathetic.
Daryl Dixon who really tried in his own way to connect, but struggled because most people find him creepy. He just doesn't have a lot of common ground with a lot of people and says unsettling shit without meaning to.
Daryl Dixon who gave up a long time ago, pretends to be okay with the crushing loneliness instead of accepting that he'd do anything to be cared for. It's a whole lot easier to be alone than constantly reminded of how fucked up he is by scaring people off.
Daryl Dixon who's just so weird and would give anything not to be.
Guys I need help finding this Daryl fic I read a while ago.
It was a multi part series and Daryl like dislocated his shoulder or something and reader offered to give him little massages and even after his shoulder healed he was pretending it didn't so he could keep seeing her. It was Alexandria era and reader might of been Rick's sister but I honestly can't remember.
Where are all the pre-established relationship fics for Daryl?? Why have I only ever found a handful of ones where you're married before the apocalypse? Does no one think he's capable of having a wife unless it's Alexandria Era? I disagree I demand more married Daryl fics!!
me, getting dragged into a padded room: NO, GUYS, WAIT!! THAT AREA IS JUST GETTING SHAVED FOR A PROSTHETIC! HE’S JUST BEEN HORRIBLY LACERATED. BURNED. SCARRED. THE HAIRCUT IS JUST A CONSPIRACY. PLEASE, YOU GOTTA BELIEVE ME!
Warnings: Angst; Allusions to major canonical major character death
Summary: Daryl is grieving and drowning in guilt. You refuse to let him do it alone.
When you found him, he was on a picnic table between the trailers, boots on the bench. The gentle breeze whispered secrets that tongues would never spill. It was a heavy atmosphere. The dark void of that cell had followed him, wrapped around him as a shroud of guilt and regret. Even his fury had fled.
“Daryl.” Your voice was a soft rustle, the murmur of leaves across the grass that both grazed and danced.
He looked at you, albeit briefly before he dropped his head and his hair joined forces with the shadows that hid him from you. That quick glance was haunted. It had been since the night you had all been doused in red—anger and blood.
“Daryl, you should—”
He cut you off with a slow movement of his hand. It left his lap for fingers to grip the edge of the table. His knuckles pulled tight, turning to ivory. “S’my fault.”
Your composure attempted to fracture, the strength you had been carrying for everyone escaping in a breath you desperately sought to drag back. “It wasn’t.” You disputed faintly. You could have bellowed it and he still wouldn’t have heard.
Daryl nodded, a single dip of his chin. It wasn’t agreement. It was his affirmation of a deeply ingrained bitter truth he had both created and accepted. “He’s gone. An’ s’my fault.”
“No.” You shook your head, taking a step closer. You stilled when he reeled to the side, appearing every bit ready to run if you ventured any closer. As if being in his orbit would condemn you to the same fate as Glenn. “Daryl, you can’t take accountability for that. That was Negan. It wasn’t you.”
He wouldn’t look at you. The same way he avoided Maggie. He was pulling away, submerging himself in the pain he thought he deserved. He was drowning in it, and his hand would dissolve into smoke when you tried to pull him up.
“Daryl, please.” You took another step. When he didn’t move, you risked one more.
“M’sorry.” His voice was a brittle shell around an apology that threatened to shatter. “Thought—thought if I hit ‘im, he’d focus on me. Didn’t think—” His grip on the table released, hand wiping roughly at his face. He began at his forehead but ended beneath his eyes, swiping the back of his hand across the area more than once. Even in his obvious grief and guilt, he tried to feign sweat for tears.
“Daryl—”
His shoulders shook, a small movement more like a twitch. “Dunno how to fix this.” His hand gripped the table edge again, fingers pressed tight. “Dunno how to let this go.”
“You don’t.” Your eyes brimmed but didn’t overflow. That had his attention. He finally looked at you, eyes tired and red. Rimmed with shame and guilt, but also something else. Something worse. He was preparing himself for the lashing he thought he deserved. From you. From Maggie. From anyone.
Daryl didn’t think he was worthy of absolution. Only punishment. And if someone didn’t give it to him, he’d do it himself.
That was what broke the dam. Eyes shining and cheeks damp, you closed that remaining distance, winding your arms around his neck. “We carry it. We carry it.” Your hand cradled the back of his head, his face tucked against the side of your neck. “Not you, Daryl. Not alone.” You sniffed, trying to gather your bearings. How could you hold him together if you fell apart?
“Don’t.” You felt the movement of his jaw, the word taking shape against your skin. He was going to tell you not to comfort him. He was going to push you away, widening the chasm that was forming between him and everyone else. “Please, don’t cry.”
You stifled a gasp, feeling his hand press against the small of your back. It was a loose hold. “Daryl—”
“Not for me.” His voice was almost too low to hear, muffled and cleaved. “Cry for him. For Maggie.” His fingers twitched against your spine. “Not for me.”
Your face twisted, and you nearly had to bare your teeth to stifle the sound of devastation that his request stirred within you. You had to let the silence stretch, your hold on him tightening a fraction so that he didn’t try to pull away when the quiet was too loud.
“Do you wanna know why I cry for you, Daryl?” He didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. “I cry for you because you won’t cry for yourself. Because you carry every single death like it’s your fault. Because you’d bleed every day if it meant someone else didn’t have to.” You felt him shift, stiffen as if preparing to reject your touch. You held on tighter. “Because you think that if you suffer enough, maybe it’ll somehow make things right.” Your tears dampened his hair, falling around quivering lips and quiet gasps. Hilltop had gone silent under a veil of grief. “I cry for you because you loved him.” The words were a pane of glass, shattered. “Because you’d trade places with him in a heartbeat.”
“Stop.” His plea was more air than sound.
“I cry for you because you’re good, and you don’t see it. Because you think you have to earn the right to be forgiven. To be loved.” It was you that pulled back first, palms framing his face to force his gaze to meet your own. His blue eyes were wet, screaming with raw urgency. “But you don’t. You don’t have to earn it, Daryl.” When he bowed his head, you allowed it. He was hiding, but you only saw him more clearly.
“Don’t deserve ya cryin’ over me.” The attempt at clinging to his self-deprecation was a fragile wisp meant for only you to hear. He didn’t look up when you brushed his hair—greasy and untamed—away from his face. There was no fight when you pulled him into you again, only a reluctant acceptance of your support. Your love.
“That’s why I do.” You murmured. “That’s exactly why I do.”
Hello!!! I'd like to request Daryl Dixon x Female Reader.
Smut pure smut. The two are having sex and reader feels so good and looses herself in the sensations grabbing at his arms (or shoulders) nails digging into his skin but thats not enough to ground her as her orgasm crashes over her. No. She bites him. Where is up to you but she bites him hard. And Daryl? Oh he loves it he loves it so much. He's groaning and finishing immediately.
Afterwards reader gets all shy about it and tries to apologize to him and he's like 'nah that was hot. need ya to do it next time'
A/N: I love this hehe, I love writing some daryl smut
MDNI 18+
warnings: smut, rough sex, biting, scratching, dirty talk, praise, creampie, unprotected sex, p in v,
𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑
Daryl had you pinned under him, hips slamming against yours with that brutal rhythm that always left your head spinning. His cock dragged deep inside you, every thrust hitting that perfect spot, and your nails were clawing into his shoulders so hard you knew you’d leave marks.
“Tha’s it, girl” he rasped against your neck, his hair sticking damp to his temples “Take me, fuckin’ take it”
You were gone, body trembling, pleasure curling hot and unbearable low in your stomach. You clung tighter, nails raking down his arms, but it wasn’t enough. The orgasm hit so hard it ripped a cry from your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you bit him.
Your teeth sank into the muscle of his shoulder, hard enough to make his whole body jolt. Daryl let out the dirtiest groan you’d ever heard, a guttural, broken sound, and he buried himself to the hilt inside you as his release spilled hot and thick.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, girl” he growled, hips stuttering, grinding deep as if he could brand you from the inside. His hands clenched in the sheets, head dropping back, the rawest sound leaving his chest as he came undone.
You finally loosened your bite, panting, lips wet against his skin, horrified at yourself. “Oh my god, Daryl, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”
He cut you off with a breathless chuckle, still catching himself on his forearms above you. His lips brushed your ear as he murmured, voice low and filthy, “Don’t be sorry, that was fuckin’ hot. Need ya to do it next time, too”
Your face burned, shy, but his grin was wolfish, eyes glittering as he kissed you rough, uncaring that you’d just bitten him bloody.
“Next time, bite harder” he muttered against your mouth “Wanna feel it for days”
I need a fic of reader jerking off a needy early seasons Daryl until he's crying and shaking from how good it feels. Maybe a little edging maybe a little bit of dirty talk ( •́ ᴗ •́ )
(Also I am loosing my mind over your requests button saying impregnate me)
nsfw,,, YEAAHAHAHAHAH NEEEDY DARYL!!!!! im glad you like my request button i foun it hilarious when i first made it impregnate me guys,, guys why arent you impregnating me,, guys impregnate my inbox with ur ideas guys,, i dont bite,,
daryl was stupidly pathetic, he had been sexless for most of his life when hanging around merle. now with you by his side he's had more sexual activity than ever, only not in the way it usually is.
no daryl much preferred just having you help him along, having your hands wrap around his cock getting him off.
he let you have your own fun of course, letting you tease and edge him as long as you wanted. just like right now, you hand wrapped over his hard cock not even moving.
"please-" his words caught in his throat, he could barely think straight. he had already came twice but still you hadn't stopped.
"please what? you need to finish your sentences daryl." that teasing tone in your voice made his cock twitch. he wanted to cum but you weren't letting him. your thumb started to roam the slit of his tip, playing around as daryl struggled to stop the moans escaping him.
he couldn't get a single word out, he was already so sensitive now with you keeping him on edge was only making it worse.
"you need to use your big boy words otherwise i don't know what you want." you knew exactly what you were doing, even going as far as giving him a couple of slow strokes.
tears were welling up in daryls eyes he was so desperate for you to just keep stroking him off but you stopped too soon. "get me-" every time he tried to speak you just kept on playing with him, not letting him finish any sentences.
"get you what?" you just couldn't help it. his flushed cheeks, his eyes glazed over, the way he bit his lip and the tears now rolling down his cheeks. he looked like a work of art.
letting out a couple whiny sobs, it all sounded like music to your ears. "pl-ease." you weren't even moving this time, he was so on edge he could barely think.
you knew he wasn't going to last any longer, he could barely hold on.
"alright i think i know what you want." your voice had an underlying mocking tone to it, starting slowly you let his pump his shaft. every move caused his body to shake, he didn't last long at all.
just over ten strokes in his cum spurted out, landing all over your hand as he legs shaked.
"aww done already?" you both knew you were going to go for another round.
First commission ever (except for the time I lowkey got scammed when I was like 12) for the lovely @justhagenrae ! My comms are open and my sheet is pinned to my profile for anyone who is interested!! :)
