'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

“What’s going on?” you sighed. “You’ve barely met my eyes all day.”

Your words were almost drowned out by noise from the upstairs neighbors in the dingy apartment building you were now calling home. Daryl finally glanced up at you and gulped. “S'just… what we left… back in Alexandria. And what’ve we got here?” he gestured to the dimness of the shabby room. “We’ve got a shithole, money to worry ‘bout again, 'n ’m back to bein’ a nobody. Maybe we shouldn'ta come here. Maybe I shouldn'ta brought ya and the kids…”

You let out a huge sigh of relief. “Is that all?” you asked, moving to kneel down beside him. “I thought it was something really awful. You were scaring me.”

Daryl shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Ya deserve better than this. So do RJ and Jude. ’M sorry…”

“Hey.” You stopped him with a cool hand gentle against his cheek. “First of all, this isn’t your fault. You deserve better than this shithole too. And you’re right, we all do. But this is temporary. The Commonwealth is going to help us rebuild Alexandria. We’re safe enough. We have meals for the kids… and we’re together. That’s all that matters for now.” Daryl ducked his head, trying to believe you but he felt such a heavy curtain of guilt weighing him down, regardless of what you’d said. Maybe if he’d just been better, been stronger… But you kept speaking. “You will never be nobody, Daryl Dixon. Even before things fell apart, this man you are now was in there, waiting. Nobody? You’re everything. And I’ll tell you every minute if I have to until you believe it.”

His blue eyes met yours again and they were less stormy. You gave him a small smile, and he rested a hand along the graceful curve of your neck and kissed you gently, almost pleadingly. “Dun ever forget how much ya mean to me.”

You grinned at him and bit your bottom lip. He watched as your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “What time are the kids getting home again?” you asked.

Daryl checked the clock propped up against the wall. “We got time,” he drawled, a smile on his lips now too.

You looped your arms around his neck. “Thank God…”

dark!daryl type of vibes.

daryl: okay.

*later*

daryl: *gives maggie flowers*

maggie: thank you???

till this, till that…

Daryl x reader fluff

REQUEST INFO || Masterlist

Warnings: non sexual nudity and mental health talk

A/N: This has been rotting in my drafts for 2 months. Ngl this is kind of a vent writing. On the nights I can't sleep or quite literally had a shitty day, I crave going home and by that I don't mean my house, I mean Alexandria, going home to Daryl. So I close my eyes and there he is, as clear as on the screen. Some nights I need him to cuddle me, his voice soothes me and I fall asleep. Other times I crave taking care of him, it calms me down and I can act on my love for him, this is a scenario that I imagined months ago. You're welcome to come back to it whenever you need.

Word count: 1.6K

You were reading a book, sat on the couch with your feet propped up on the coffee table, Dog sleeping under the bridge your position had created. Daryl walked in and you turned your head towards the front door to see him set down his crossbow and walk over to you. You softly smiled at your husband.

“Hi, you look tired” you said in a low voice as he grabbed a pillow and set it on your lap so he could lay his head there while he laid on the couch.

“Tha’s cause i am” he admitted as he comfortably rested on you, he closed his eyes and crossed his arms exhaling all of the air in his lungs to replace it with the familiar scent of you.

Can't keep my hands to myself

Daryl x reader suggestive fluff

REQUEST INFO || Masterlist

A/n: I actually have so many little scenarios of Daryl being an ass man. It's so fun to write

Word count: 419

You both looked up to the highest shelf of the crumbling shelving unit in the abandoned factory you were in, the only thing on it was a box labeled to contain MRE’s.

“We dun know if it’s full” Daryl grumbled.

“I know but if it is, then we won’t come back empty handed” you reasoned approaching to inspect the wood of the shelves “I could climb up–”

“Nah, no way—got a better idea”

“What’s your big plan then?” you asked as he prepared to lift you. His back to the shelving unit, his legs slightly bent and his hands interlocked in front of him for you to set your foot in. You sighed, holding onto his shoulders as he gave you a reassuring nod before you prompted yourself upwards, your knees now on his shoulders.

“Hold my leg” you instructed as you tried to find support on the metal of the shelving unit. His hands immediately flew to your behind, your eyes widened in astonishment “I said my leg not my ass”

“Got more contact surface this way, can hold ya better” he argued happily.

“Dixon!”

“Alrigh’” he mumbled under his breath, fully holding you up as you balanced on his shoulders and reached the box.

You let out a defeated sigh “It’s empty”

“‘S alrigh’ sunshine” he consoled before helping you down, his strong hands finding your butt repeatedly as he lowered you carefully. Once your feet touched the ground, you playfully pushed him with a smile.

“‘Contact surface’ really?” you mimicked.

The archer only shrugged sporting his signature lazy smirk, the one only you had the privilege to see “Had t’ make sure ya didn’t fall”

“Yeah…whatever helps you sleep at night” you muttered walking away yet feeling his eyes on you “I can feel you staring”

“Ain’t starin’...s’ called admirin’” he quickly answered, his eyes still on your behind but now his body followed you into the next room. 

You smiled at him “Well today’s your lucky day Dixon, get us home and it’s all yours”

He blinked. Once, twice and then nodded trying to conceal his smile before getting on his bike and waiting for you to get on behind him, when you did, he grabbed your legs to pull you closer.

“Oh so now you wanna hold my legs?” you joked.

He scoffed “Jus’ hold on tigh’. I’ll hold ‘em later too if tha’ helps ya sleep at nigh’” he teased and mocked, reveling in the sound of your laugh.

my masterlist

blame the alcohol

daryl dixon tries not to fall for you but you are there to wreck his plans with an empty wine glass in your hand.

he wants to save the image in front of him and stare at it for hours.

you are standing there, unaware of his presence. you are only wearing a shirt which is extra big for you and a pair of socks reaching your knees. your slightly wet hair frames your pretty face and you are holding a book in your hand, there is a wine glass on the table next to you.

daryl dixon loves watching you.

he is standing by the doorframe with a bottle in his hand. he is supposed to be resting but it feels impossible. there are things that keep his mind alive and the alcohol he consumes is not enough to shut it off.

here you are, looking clean and relaxed. you use the same shampoo and soaps with everyone, your little survival team that finally makes it to CDC, but he thinks you smell different. your scent is different and he is not dreaming about it, right? he wants to take a deep breath to fill his senses with you and it's perfectly real.

you are reading a book, he doesn't know if you like it. he is sure even if you don't like the context you like the act of reading. you told him that in his tent, the days feel like ages now but truly it wasn't that long ago. you have a passion for reading. you'd read anything you find, that he's sure about.

your wine glass is empty. he should approach you and offer you more wine, right? that's what he wants but he isn't sure if you want his company. actually there isn't a reason for him to think otherwise, he knows you enjoy spending time with him but he can't help his thoughts. this life isn't made for love stories and a man like daryl dixon can't afford to let himself fall for you.

then you turn to his side, finally noticing him as if you've felt his desperation. there is that smile again. your eyes sparkle and he can see it perfectly clear on your clean face. he doesn't even want to admit it to himself but he loves seeing you smile. it's like watching the sunrise, shiny and mesmerising.

"why are you standing there, dixon? come closer."

why does his last name sound so beautiful when it comes out of your lips? he comes closer to you with slow steps.

"are you drunk already? unbelievable, you surprise me."

he smiles. "nah, i ain't drunk."

you leave the book back to its place, take your empty glass and go to the couch across the wall. you point the bottle in his hand, "can i have some of that?"

he nods quickly, fills your glass, and sits next to you on the couch. you two share a few minutes of silence, sipping your drinks and staring at the wall. he wants to hear your voice, anything you tell him even if you think they are stupid, he wants to hear it. there are little moments between you and him. when it gets too much in his head, he finds a release with them.

"come on, tell me somethin'."

you raise an eyebrow. "like what?"

he shrugs, takes a sip of wine. "anythin'."

you curve your lips slightly, think of an answer. it feels like the right time for a deep conversation with the opportunity to blame it on alcohol if you say something you regret later. not to deep but you feel like you need to be the brave one.

"this apocalypse...sometimes i feel like-like i'm happy it happened you know? not happy, happy is not the right word to say but- just glad. for one reason."

he has a look on his face, questioning and curious. you have to explain what you mean. you have to start somewhere.

"we'd never know each other if it weren't for the apocalypse."

he doesn't know what to say. after he lost merle, he planned to be alone and alive in this new life and now you are here, wrecking all his plans with your sweet confessions and smiles. he shouldn't get attached for his own sake but then you look at him with big, teary eyes and he is gone.

"you ain't gonna cry for this sunshine."

you try to smile. "i'm not crying but- the possibility of never knowing you is terrible and- i feel like an awful person for saying that i'm grateful for the zombies somehow."

he chuckles softly. then he puts the bottle on the ground and brings his hand to your face. his movements aren't the most confident ones, he is hesitant but that doesn't stop him from brushing that one teardrop away from your face.

"ya can't ever be an awful person. i know what ya mean, okay? you're right. ya shouldn't ever cry for- fucks sake ya shouldn't cry for anythin'. you're too pretty for that."

he never fails to put a smile on your face. he smiles too, when he sees the little wrinkles on the corners of your mouth. he doesn't regret saying too much, if it's necessary to talk too much to make you smile for him, daryl dixon would turn into a fucking chatterbox.

"thank you, daryl. for everything. i know i'm not really suited for this kind of life but i'm trying...i really do."

his eyes are about to turn into little hearts with sparkles. fuck it. you can't possibly be that sweet, he thinks. he can't even believe himself for using the word sweet for someone but there you are, his sweet girl.

"you're a fast learner. you're fine and 'm with you."