#vamp!daryl

You chuckled as Daryl tightly wrapped his arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the platform that you had been attempting to hoist yourself onto only a mere five seconds prior. The platform wasn't that high and the climb wasn't that difficult, but your partner was being extremely overprotective that day. Well, you guess you couldn't blame him. You had just been given the go-ahead to go on runs again by the community doctor, so his overprotectiveness came from a place of good intentions.

“Careful, Dixon. It's starting to sound like you actually care about little old me,” you replied, a playful edge to your voice. You extended a hand and helped hoist Daryl onto the platform. You knew your help wasn't needed, but your partner would never make that known to you.

Daryl straightened his vest and rolled his eyes at your playful comment. “Nah, I dun' care.” He walked off and allowed himself a small smile at the sound of your hurried footsteps to keep up with his speed. “M'only keepin' ya 'round 'cause ya make a mean deer stew. If it weren't fer tha', I would'a gotten rid'a ya a while ago.”

You scoffed and hit the archer on his chest, before bringing your hand to rest over your heart in mock-offense. “How dare you?” you started in a dramatic, over the top fashion. “I'll have you know that I have a million different qualities for people to want to keep me around. I can't think of specific examples right now, but I'm sure I have other qualities.”

Daryl chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, placing a tender kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, ya do. I was jus' playin'.” He pulled back and took your hand in his, allowing you to intertwine your fingers together. “And I can think'a specific examples. For one, yer incredibly smart. Yer loyal, a good friend, and ya—”

Daryl suddenly cut himself off, making you frown. The archer pulled his hand away from yours as he took a few steps forward, his eyes darting all over the place. His head was slightly cocked to one side, a clear sign that he was trying to hear something, something that you couldn't. His body was visibly tensed up, and his entire defensive demeanour had you on edge.

“Daryl, what's wro—”

You never got to finish your question, because in a matter of milliseconds, Daryl was rushing towards you and wrapping his arms around you, before throwing the both of you over the edge of the platform you were on. Your mind could hardly comprehend what was happening, so no screams or anything escaped you. Before you knew it, the two of you landed on the ground, with Daryl laying flat on his back and you on top of him. The archer had clearly situated himself in a way so that he would take most of the damage the fall caused. Before you could even begin to comprehend what had happened and ask him why the hell he did what he did, an array of gunshots echoed through the air, the bullets ricocheting off of the metal on the platform you and Daryl had stood on a few seconds ago. As quickly as the bullets started flying all over the place, just as quickly, they stopped. In their place, all that could be heard were the bloodcurdling screams of the perpetrators.

Your heart was attempting to pound out of your chest. The screams were dying out one by one, and you could only assume that the walkers had gotten to the people who had shot those guns. The feeling of Daryl's hands gently yet firmly lifting you off of him snapped you out of your thoughts. “Daryl, wha—”

“No time.” In one, swift movement, Daryl was on his feet and he had tugged you up as well. He grabbed your hand and started pulling you behind him, clearly in a rush to escape the building. “We gotta go. They can't see ya. They're gon' kill ya. I can't let that happen.”

“The walkers?” When Daryl didn't respond, you harshly yanked your hand out of his grip. The pain spread through your body at the movement, but you couldn't think of that. The archer spun around to face you, his eyes showing how panicked he was, something extremely rare to see. The panic in his eyes stirred up a sense of dread in you. “Dar—”

A few whistles echoed through the room, effectively startling you. Daryl cursed under his breath and hurried to stand in front of you, shielding you from whatever danger lurked in the shadows. Your heart sped up considerably, the fear in you spiking through the roof. Daryl clearly sensed it, and apparently, so did the danger in the shadows.

“Aah, yes,” a deep voice ominously snarled from the shadows. “She smells fucking good.”

“So good,” another voice chipped in. “She'll make a nice addition to our feast tonight.”

“We're adding her to the rain?”

“Hell yeah. Everyone should have a taste. We're not selfish, Stevie.”

“Holy shit,” another voice chipped in, this one much higher and more feminine. “Boys, look at that. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

“We sure are, Janine,” the first voice agreed. “It's Daryl motherfucking Dixon, back from the grave.”

With that, the voices made their visual presence known. From the shadows, three bodies appeared. Two guys and one woman, all sporting smeared blood on their mouths, emerged from the shadows. Daryl visibly tensed and shifted in front of you, forming a protective barrier between you and the unknown people.

“Hey, guys,” Daryl drawled out hesitantly, his body still acting as a protective barrier in front of you. “Where's the others?”

“Holy shit, it really is him,” one of the guys laughed, clapping his hands together twice for added emphasis. “Daryl Dixon. What's up, man? Last I heard, Tommy told us you were dead. Told us that asshole brother of yours got mixed up with some hunters and killed you. Glad that isn't true. The gang's still going strong, believe it or not. The others are out searching for food. They will be thrilled to see you. We missed you around here.”

“Speak for yourself, Stevie,” the woman—Janine, you guessed—scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “This asshole left us to die all those years ago. We should kill him and that bitch he's trying to protect.”

“What, that human?” the guy barked out with a laugh. “Please, Daryl here is too smart to be hanging around with humans. He's keeping her alive to feed on her. You know how tough it is to get decent food nowadays. The flesh eaters are beating us to it.”

“Please, don't make me laugh. Dixon?” the other guy piped in. “Guy's too much of a pussy to keep a human around for that. You know how hard it was to convince him to feed on humans. Son of a bitch was planning on going vegan and drinking animal blood. It wouldn't surprise me if the little human is his friend or something.”

As the two guys started arguing, with Janine rolling her eyes and trying to break up the argument, Daryl started whispering to you. “Ya see tha' openin' there, righ' between those two pieces'a metal?” When you nodded, he continued. “I'mma need ya to stay real quiet, head tha' way and hide, alrigh'? Thing's are gon' get messy. I need ya outta the line'a fire. I know ya have a bunch'a questions, and I'll answer 'em all later. I jus' need ya to do wha' I ask, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled quietly. “I love you.”

“Love ya too. Now go.”

Following his orders, you slipped away from behind him, praying harder than you ever had before that you didn't capture the attention of the others. You weren't stupid. You knew exactly what these “people” were—vampires. And based on that little interaction, and Daryl's panic, you were certain that they weren't exactly the friendly type of vampire, either.

You were nearing the opening that Daryl had talked about, succeeding in not making a sound, until you felt a whoosh beside you. You stood face to face with one of the men, the guy giving you a creepy smile. “Where do you think you're going, baby? The fun is just beginning.”

Before you could make a run for it, the guy had pushed you and you were flying through the air, your back soon making harsh contact with the wall. All the wind got knocked from your lungs, and your vision got a bit spotty. Bringing a hand up to the back of your head, you could feel the stickiness of the red liquid before you saw it. You were bleeding.

The scent of your blood filled the air, and hunger instantly dawned on every vampire's face—every face except Daryl's. In seconds, they were all lunging for you, only stopping short because Daryl used his body as a protective barrier again. “Don't,” he warned them.

Janine laughed wickedly. “Looks like Derek was right after all. You're still the same fucking wimp you were all those years ago. Still protecting your precious little humans.” Janine licked her lips, her fangs elongating. “I'm gonna have so much fun watching the life drain from her eyes.”

The last shred of the archer's patience snapped, and before anyone could properly see what he was doing, he lunged for the woman, snapping her neck effortlessly. The woman's life drained from her eyes—temporarily, as Daryl had told you that the only way to properly kill a vampire was by getting it in the heart—and that was enough to send the other two into a fit of rage.

“You motherfucker!”

Daryl grabbed the guy that was charging at him and threw him to the other side of the room. He briefly turned to look at you, quickly helping you to your feet. “Go! Get to tha' openin'!”

You definitely didn't need to be told twice. Walkers were predictable. They were loud, clumsy. You could handle walkers. Vampires were an entirely different ballpark. Daryl could easily overpower you without even using his full strength. You definitely did not want to find out what a vampire using its full strength could do to you. Ignoring the pain in your body, you bolted for that opening, wanting to get out of the line of fire. You didn't want to leave Daryl alone with these psychopaths, but you knew you didn't really have much of a choice. You'd be more of a liability than much help. Being safe would ensure that Daryl had a clear mind. He could defend himself. He'd be okay.

When Daryl saw you crawl into the opening, all hell broke loose. The guy—who Daryl knew from his life before the outbreak to be Derek—met a cruel, agonizing end. He had made the mistake to try and get to you. Daryl rushed over to him, grabbed him and pushed him forward, right into one of the metal rods sticking out of the wall. The rod impaled him in the chest, right through the most vital organ that kept him alive. Derek yelled as the rod drove right through him, but as soon as his heart was touched, he fell deathly silent—emphasis on the deathly. Two down, one to go. Daryl turned around and faced Stevie, the biggest and strongest vampire of the three. The archer knew that he had his work cut out for him.

Stevie approached Daryl threateningly. “What the hell are you doing, man?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone of voice. “That one human can't be worth more than years of friendship with us. All can be forgiven. Hand her over, add her blood to the rain, and everything will be fine.”

Daryl practically growled, his eyes alight with a fiery glare. “Ya add her blood to tha' fuckin' rain yer talkin' 'bout, I'll fuckin' kill ya.”

Stevie shook his head in disappointment. “Matt was right,” he began. “I never should've turned you. I should've left you to die on the side of that road.”

“Yeah, ya prolly shoulda.” The two men lunged for the other, the two colliding against each other harshly. However, by some stroke of luck, Daryl quickly got the upper hand. He unsheathed his knife and plunged it deeply into the other man's chest, eliciting a scream from him. Daryl firmly gripped the shirt of the man, bringing his face dangerously close to his. “Nah, scratch tha'. Ya definitely shoulda let me die tha' day. Guess s'a bit too late for tha' now, huh?”

With that, Daryl withdraw his knife and threw the almost lifeless corpse away from him. However, what the archer didn't know was that he threw the body right into a lever, the same lever that activated the rain the other vampires had been talking about—a blood rain.

Human blood sprayed out of the sprinkler system and rained down on Daryl, drenching him in seconds. The scent was extremely overwhelming to him, and when Daryl lifted his head to see where the blood was coming from, a few drops fell onto his lips. Against his better judgement, he licked his lips, the taste of human blood filling his taste buds for the first time in years. The taste overwhelmed his senses completely, and it took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to just open his mouth and greedily absorb every droplet of blood that fell from the sprinkler.

“Daryl?”

The sound of your voice instantly caught his attention, and he forced himself to snap back to reality. Janine would only be out cold for a few minutes more at best, and he had no idea when the others would return. He had to get you out of there. “C'mon, we gotta go,” he spoke up hoarsely. He quickly walked over to the woman and plunged his knife into her heart, ending her life completely, before making a beeline for the door you had come through earlier.

You quickly followed behind him, confused by his haste, but you refrained from saying anything. Your head was still throbbing painfully and your body was aching all over. Plus now you were drenched in blood, so that added to your discomfort. You silently climbed into the truck you had brought out with you for the run and started it, watching Daryl climb onto his newly-assembled bike and speed off. You shifted the truck into drive and followed behind him, leaving the factory behind you.

The drive back to Alexandria was long, and all you had to accompany you were your own thoughts. You had a million questions you wanted to ask your partner, and you needed answers. One problem you encountered when you finally got home, though? Daryl wouldn't be near anybody, not even you. When you got showered and wanted to settle down, Daryl was nowhere to be found.

The only thing that was left in his absence was an open window and a short note explaining that he'd be fine and not to worry about him.

Three days. It had been three days since that incident at the old factory. Three days since Daryl had disappeared. Three days since you were promised an explanation.

As quickly as you were given permission to go on runs again, just as quickly you were placed on bed rest again. That vampire had thrown you with quite the force. According to the doctor, Denise, you had bruised your ribs, and rather badly, too. She told you that you were lucky they weren't broken. Your back was also really badly bruised. It made sleeping rather hard, and without your partner there, your own personal space heater, sleep completely eluded you.

The house was relatively quiet that day. With you being placed on bed rest and banned from helping out around the community, you laid on the bed while staring at the ceiling, the only thing occupying your mind being the memory of you hugging Daryl for the first time; it also happened to be the first time you had commented on the warmth his body emitted, despite his “undead” nature. However, the archer had simply chuckled, vowing to explain it to you another time.

The sound of the window to your bedroom opening had your senses peaking to high alert. You grabbed the knife that rested under your pillow and hurriedly sprung up from the bed, clutching the weapon tightly. However, you calmed down once you saw who it was; your partner, gripping his crossbow while holding a dead squirrel between his teeth.

“Daryl, oh my god,” you breathed a sigh of relief and helped him through the window. However, once he was inside, Daryl firmly pushed you to the side and tried to put as much distance between the two of you as he physically could without having to leave the room. That made you confused. “Daryl, what—”

“Dun' come any closer. Please,” he mumbled out weakly, removing the dead squirrel from his mouth and tightly clutching it in his hands. “I dun' wanna hurt ya. Jus' needed to see if ya were alrigh'.”

“Hurt me?” You took a small step forward, stopping short when Daryl tensed up. “What do you mean hurt me? That's impossible. You can never hurt me.” You took a tentative step towards the archer, determined to show him that you didn't fear him, despite the warning that he could hurt you. You didn't believe that. He could never hurt you. Of that you were certain. “I don't know what's going on in that amazing mind of yours, but I want to understand. Please. Talk to me.”

Daryl let out a shuddered breath when your hand made contact with his cheek, unknowingly dropping the dead animal on the ground. Your scent was heavily intoxicating, like some drug he could easily get addicted to, and it made it extremely hard for him to keep his hunger at bay. Still, he tried. He tried his hardest. He would never willingly hurt the most precious thing in his life. He'd much rather have his own heart get ripped out than hurt you.

His instincts somewhat got the better of him. Daryl slightly turned his head and kissed your wrist, his teeth barely scraping against your skin. You inhaled sharply at the contact, your mind instantly flooded with thoughts that Gabriel would declare unholy, but you forced yourself to think straight. There would be time for things like that another time. For now, you had to get through to your partner. You had to figure out what was going through his mind. And you had to figure out why his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes had adapted that crimson colour when he was actively feeding not even five minutes prior.

“Talk to me,” you begged, pleaded, in a soft tone. “What's going on?” A few beats of silence passed. Daryl withdrew from your touch and took a few steps back, and you were convinced that he was going to shut you down, but you were pleasantly surprised when he let out a deep sigh and nodded.

“Ya remember those vamps tha' we encountered three days ago?” When you nodded, he continued. “I guess ya can say tha' they were my “friends”. When I got bitten by Stevie way back when, they took me in, showed me the ropes. They told me tha' if I wanted to survive, I'd have to live according to their customs. I'd have to feed off'a humans. For a while, tha's all tha' I knew. I mean, they've been alive for decades. I was a nobody, jus' some kid they took in. It didn't mean tha' I liked it, though. I wished more than anythin' for a way out.”

Daryl stopped for a moment and sat down on the bed before continuing. “But then they said tha' to prove myself, I'd have to kill my brother, drink his blood. Tha's when I jus' couldn't do it anymore. I got some vamp to pretend to have gotten into a scuffle with me and to tell everyone tha' he had killed me. I got my act straight and searched for alternatives, and tha's how I started becomin' “vegan”. I haven't had human blood again since then. Well, not since...” Daryl cleared his throat, his breath hitching when he inhaled too deeply and caught a whiff of your intoxicating scent again. “Not since tha' whole ordeal with those bastards. The blood tha' rained down on us was human blood. I made the mistake of tastin' it. Now nothin' s'satisfyin' my hunger. Not deer, not squirrel, nothin'. M'so goddamn hungry and I dun' know wha' to do.”

Silence. It got so silent that one could hear a pin drop. It got so silent that you could hear someone fiddling around with the pots and pans in the kitchen, that someone being Gabriel. The priest, although not very liked by your group, had been allowed to stay in your home. You were sure that if he had heard Daryl's confession, he'd run to Deanna first chance he got. But that wasn't your main focus at that moment.

Nothing would satisfy his hunger. No, that definitely wasn't something you believed. No animal would satisfy his hunger. However, you were sure that you could think of an alternative to his problems; you could be his solution. Seeing your man in such a state broke your heart, and if you could help him out of his terrible predicament, how could you say no?

With your decision made, you moved over to Daryl. You slowly straddled his lap and looped your arms around his neck. Daryl inhaled deeply and moved to grip your hips and lift you off of him, not trusting his own instincts, but you didn't allow him to do so. “Don't,” you whispered, gently brushing his hair away from his eyes.

Daryl's now blood red eyes stared at you, a small whimper escaping him. God, you smelled so good. It was getting to be too much to handle. If he didn't put some distance between the two of you, he'd most certainly do something he'd end up regretting. “I dun' wanna hurt ya. Ya smell so good and m'not sure I can control myself much longer. I have to go. I—”

“Don't,” you repeated your earlier statement. “No matter what you do, nothing satisfies your hunger, right?” When Daryl nodded, you continued. “No animal blood satisfies your hunger. My blood will.”

“Nah. I ain't doin' tha',” Daryl denied your offer, his breathing starting to fasten at the idea. He had to admit, the thought of tasting your blood sounded extremely appealing to him, but he couldn't. He didn't know if he'd be able to stop.

“It's either with me, your partner who won't snitch on you for this, or some innocent person. If you don't feed now, some innocent person is going to die. We don't want that.”

“Nah, I can't.” Daryl's words rung through the air as his breathing became more erratic. Although he was steadfast in his denial to your gracious request, his fingers tightened their hold on your hips. “I haven't drunk from a person in years. Wha' if I can't stop?”

“That won't happen,” you told him reassuringly, your fingers gently working through his hair. “I trust you. You'll know when to stop.”

Daryl inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as his self-restraint started to dwindle even more. “But, Gabriel's here. He's gon' hear everythin',” he mumbled, lowering his head to rest on your shoulder. “Ya've heard me when I feed on animals. Increase tha' by ten when it comes to human blood. He's gon' tell Deanna and m'gonna be kicked out, maybe even killed.”

“Well,” you began with a seductive smirk. You pulled back, moved your hands down to grip the edge of your shirt and tugged it over your head, leaving your upper body completely bare to your partner's now lustful gaze. “I guess you need some motivation to stay quiet, huh?”

Daryl let out a shuddered breath, his eyes trailing over your body. Any ounce of his self-restraint flew out of the window. All he thought about was you, and how absolutely amazing you'd taste, and he didn't want to admit that the thought sent blood rushing straight down to his dick. “Wha' do ya have in mind?”

Your smirk widened slightly at the feeling of him growing hard beneath you. Your hands moved to the back of his head, your eyes alight with mischief as your idea came out to play. “I'm gonna give you what you told me was your favourite thing and pair it with feeding you,” you began, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. “This.” Without even giving him time to process your words, you gently yet firmly brought his face down to your boobs, stuffing his face between them. “Drink.”

To say Daryl was surprised would be an understatement. He definitely hadn't expected that. Even just offering to help satisfy his hunger by drinking your blood was unexpected, and then that happened? However, he knew that you weren't about to take no for an answer, so very slowly and gingerly, he pressed a few kisses to your now bare chest, mentally preparing both you and him for what was about to transpire.

The small action had a white-hot fire shooting down through your body, all the way to your core. Without even fully registering what you were doing, you moaned softly and slowly ground yourself down against his erection, eliciting a broken groan from the archer. His self-restraint fully dissipated. His fangs elongated and he finally sunk them down into the flesh of your boobs, right above your nipple.

You yelped at the unexpected pain that came from his fangs penetrating your skin, but you refrained from pulling back against the pain. The pain would soon go away, you reassured yourself. The thought barely had time to sit in your mind until it was proven correct. The pain very quickly dulled into something more manageable and, dare you even say it, something way more pleasurable. The feeling had you rolling your hips against his, a desperate attempt to relieve the ache that formed at your core.

Daryl groaned at both the feeling of the pressure you bestowed on his clothed cock and the taste of the delicious crimson that filled his taste buds. You tasted better than anything he'd ever had before in his entire existence, human or animal. It was almost unbearable. His senses were acutely aware of you. Only you. He couldn't focus on anything else.

Subconsciously, Daryl started moving his hips up against yours, begging for any sort of friction to relieve the ache in his pants. You moaned at the feeling, grinding yourself down against him harder. Daryl wasn't going to last long, and you knew it. You knew his tells for when he was close. And for some reason, the thought of him falling apart simply by the taste of you and the little bit of friction pressed against him was so incredibly hot to you.

Daryl was close, in more ways than one. He was close to coming. He was close to retracting his fangs from your flesh as to not take too much of your blood. He was close to metaphorically dying. He was on cloud nine at that moment, and he never wanted to come down. Your blood was an addictive drug, one that he never wanted to get clean from. There was no rehab for him when the drug he was consuming at that moment was so damn good. He couldn't get enough of you. And after this whole ordeal, he doubted if he'd ever be able to go back to his former animal-drinking ways.

One last suck, one last mouthful of your delicious crimson liquid and one last grind of your hips had him tumbling over the edge. His body shook at the powerful feeling of his orgasm, white, hot spurts of his release coating the insides of his jeans. Daryl whimpered against your flesh, the intensity of it all making his mind incredibly foggy.

“That's it. Good job, Baby. You did so good,” you whispered soothingly, your mind also hazy from both the blood loss and the loss of your approaching release. However, you wouldn't tell Daryl about that last part. He could take care of you another time. Besides, even if he was willing to help you out at that moment, you doubted that you would be able to. You felt very light-headed, and all you wanted to do was collapse into your partner's arms.

Daryl withdrew his fangs from the skin of your breast. He looked up at you with his now-blue eyes, only small specks of red still coating the beautiful irises. “Ya alrigh'?” he asked you quietly, warily eyeing the way you eyes started to droop. “I didn't take too much, did I?”

You slowly shook your head. “No. I'll be okay. Just a bit light-headed.” You forced your eyes to focus on Daryl, desperately wanting to reassure him that you didn't regret a thing and that you were indeed just fine. “I promise I'm okay, Dar. You didn't take that much. I just need to rest and I'll be fine.”

Daryl hesitantly nodded before lowering his head to the wound his fangs had made onto your flesh. He gingerly licked at the blood that poured from the open skin before going back to the source, gently licking at it. “This'll help it heal faster,” Daryl explained, although he didn't have to. You were well aware of the healing attributes his spit carried. He had “magic spit”, as you had jokingly called it once before.

When he was done, he gently lifted you off his lap, placing you down next to him. He grabbed your shirt from the ground and helped you to put it on. “C'mon, in bed with ya. Ya need to take it easy.” When you complied with his request, he took it upon himself to clean up the mess he made in his jeans. He shuddered as he slowly undressed himself, his release sticking to him in a way he didn't like. He grabbed his rag and cleaned himself up, before grabbing a fresh pair of sweatpants from the dresser and putting them on. When everything was done, and with the immediate risk of hurting you gone, he clambered into bed with you. He wrapped his arms around you, cuddling you from behind. He was certain that you had fallen asleep, but he was pleasantly surprised when he heard your voice.

“Should you be this hot?” you asked him, turning around to place your head on his chest.

“Wha' do ya mean?” Daryl asked you in confusion, his arms adjusting to hold you close to his chest.

“Well, vampires are considered to be dead, right? Dead things are usually cold. You're not. I wanna know why.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “I dun' really know why. There are a bunch'a different types'a vamps. M'guessin' the reason I have human heat s'cause I didn't fully complete the “transformation” process. Yer supposed to drink the blood'a the vamp tha' bit ya to fully transform into one. I never did tha'. Stevie didn't want me to and said it didn't matter whether or not I did. Guess tha's wha's keepin' my human traits in check.”

“What happens to those that don't fully transform?”

“Not much. We dun' become immortal. Tha's why m'agin' jus' like everyone else. Tha's a huge plus for me. I definitely dun' wanna live forever. We need human food to survive jus' as much as we need blood. Can't survive purely off'a blood and can't survive purely off'a food. Need to have both.” He stopped, placed a tender kiss on your forehead, and continued. “We can walk in the sun without dyin', so tha's good. And, uh, we can make babies who are completely human, but I dun' know how true tha' is. Never tried it 'fore.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to his clothed chest. “Well, I'm always up to try it. To test out that theory. Just tell me when.”

Daryl's breath hitched in his throat. You couldn't be serious about that, could you? “This yer way'a tellin' me ya want a baby?”

You shrugged and closed your eyes, letting out a contented sigh. “I'm not getting any younger. I kinda want to start a family. But it's okay if you don't want to. I'd never force you to...” you trailed off, your breathing evening out.

Daryl looked down at you in surprise at your revelation. You wanted to start a family? With him? The thought both scared and excited him. “Ya really want tha'? With me?” he asked you. However, he got no reply. You were fast asleep. He chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “We'll talk 'bout it when ya ain't delirious from blood loss.”

You barely stirred, which made it easy for Daryl to slip out of the cage that was your limp arms and quietly inspect your body.

He softly and gently lifted your shirt, helping himself to an eyeful of pretty tits once he determined your torso was unscathed, placing the fabric back down over you. His eyes fluttered down to your panties, brain loading for a moment before he dipped his head down, not even having to inhale before he was hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of blood.

This absolutely horrified him. Why were you bleeding, and why were you bleeding from your cunt? His cold little heart throbbed painfully, and he wasted no time pulling off your undies, shivering at the ruined fabric. It was bad, so bad. You had somehow hurt yourself in a sensitive area and needed obvious help, but first Daryl just had to take a deep whiff of your bloody panties, biting back a guttural moan when the pure smell made him dizzy, eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull as it traveled through his veins and damn-near made him cum. Not even the most expensive cocaine could get him that high.

His mouth was watering from just that alone, trying not to wake you as he quietly gasped for air, having literally suffocated himself in your underwear. He redirected his gaze to you and felt disgusting when he could feel his cock twitch at the sight of your bloody pussy.

No. He needed to help you. You were hurt and he needed to fix it, furrowing his brows as he built up his saliva in his mouth, hoping that if he coated you in enough of it, it would heal you much quicker.

When it was pooled on his tongue, he dropped down to be face to face with your cunt and forcibly swallowed the groan that formed in his throat from the smell wafting into his nose. All five of his senses were sky-high, and your skin almost felt like butter on his fingertips as he spread your bloody lips apart, running his slick tongue from top to bottom.

Your body trembled at the cold sensation, and soft sounds spilling from your lips as you reacted to his touch in your sleep. It made Daryl feel a little guilty, but it would make him feel guiltier if he just left you like this.

There was just blood all over you, and Daryl worked his tongue fervently to clean it all up. He tried not to enjoy it too much, running the wet muscle up the crease where your thigh met your labia, stopping to suck on your clit a little, cleaning off any blood with the tip of his tongue.

He was purposely trying to produce more saliva with every lick, ensuring that wherever your wound is, it’ll be completely coated in his healing spit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull your lower half flush against his face, slipping his tongue into your hole and swirling it around when he could taste the blood pooling inside, this time not being able to fight back his grunt at the taste. Oddly enough, it tasted so much better coming from your pretty pussy.

“Gonna make sure ya feel better doll, gotta make sure m’gorgeous girl is alright” He mumbled out loud but more so to himself, practically nose-deep as he protectively squeezed you impossibly closely, starting to get a little tipsy from all the blood he had already consumed.

You stirred slightly, grunting and wiggling your legs a little as you could feel the sturdy muscle of Daryl’s arms around them, shortly followed by the warm sensation of his muttering and licking between your pussy lips “Mm… Dar?”

He didn’t respond, nor did he move from his position, too far gone and deep between your legs.

“Daryl.” You forced your tired voice to call a little louder, coming out as more of a moan than anything else.

This time the movements of his tongue halted as his ears and head perked up, a very unexpected sight greeting you.

His red eyes were wide as they stared at you, beard stained blood red from where it dribbled down from around his equally stained lips, smeared across the tip of his nose and most likely painting his pink tongue a matching color.

It made you throb slightly, clenching as you softly stared at him. “What’re you doing?”

“Ya started bleedin'– Still don’ know-how, but ya did, ‘nd ‘wanted ta make sure ya’ weren’t hurtin’” He shook his head as he rambled, and you raised a brow at him.

“Bleeding?” You glanced at his position between your legs, and then back to his face, easily connecting the dots with a small ‘oh’ sound. “Oh Daryl, I’m not injured, sweetheart”

He gawked, flickering from your face to your cunt. “Ye-Yer not?”

A giggle rumbled in your chest at his poor ignorance, “No silly! I’m just on my period. It’s just my body getting rid of old blood. I didn’t even know you could eat that” reaching a hand down to cup his sweet messy face, the confused look on his face adorably tugging your heartstrings. Or maybe that’s just your hormones.

“Tasted good ta’ me… old?” Daryl mumbled, brain lagging behind to catch up with the new information that he was receiving.

You nodded, blushing a little at his words. “Old blood, bacteria, all that… how long have you been eating?”

“Not long, think it jus’ started or somethin’” He eyed your pussy, licking his lips. “Can I– Can I keep goin’?”

“Kinda gross don’t you think?” You cringe slightly at the idea of eating period blood, goosebumps dotting your skin.

Daryl scoffed at you, arms pulling you close to his face again as he had full intentions of leaving his plate absolutely clean. “Gross ain’t even in ma’ damn vocabulary”

I need him SO FUCKING BADLYYYABUAINA literally all my problems in life would be completely solved if I had vamp!daryl waking me up with his tongue just because he thought me starting my period was me somehow getting an injury

VAMPIRE DARYL IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE AND I HAVE DECIDED I NOT ONLY WANNA DIE ON THIS HILL BUT I WANNA BE FUCKING BURIED IN IT. SEVEN GODDAMN FEET UNDER.

The hopes came and went with each and every new settlement. From the quarry, to the prison, the farm inbetween those, but none stuck long enougg to deem it safe enough. Not for a huge the commitment of having a child.

Those dreams were nothing but old memories now, with Daryl's newest issues he got from running into an even less friendly kind of undead not long before arriving in Alexandria. A kind that stopped Daryl's heart and lowered his core temperature to thst of a dead man and gave him a thirst for human blood. You came to the realisation it ruined even more of Daryl's human functions after you tried so hard now that you finally had a safe space but the seed never took.

Daryl saw through your lies of being okay with it. The everlasting chants of "It's better this way." But he knew how much it hurt you. Before the world ended your eyes would have that sparkle in them whenever you saw mothers with their babies but now that sparkle turned into tears threatening to spill.

It was the worst during the times Rosita and Michonne had just given birth, seeing them breastfeed their little ones with the most love and adoration you had ever seen.

There were times you thought Daryl was still out and cried yourself to sleep, but he heard you each and every time.

"Yer starin', hun." Daryl held your waist as you both stood in the doorway of the community hall where Daryl had gotten stuck by accident this morning. The meeting took so long it went on till morning, so you came to visit him.

A sad sigh left your lips as you looked away from the woman across the street who was feeding her baby and enjoying the sun on the porch. "M'sorry.. I gotta head out anyways, guard shift." With a last kiss you left your partner at the door, only seeing him again after the sun had set late in the evening.

You were settled in bed already with a novel by the time he got back. Daryl left his shoes at the door. His vest on the back of the usual dinner table chair and his shirt was in his hands when he made it up the stairs.

"Hey, welcome back." The smile on your face was the only thing that still warmed his cold, dead heart, and he was determined to cheer you up and make that smile a genuine one tonight.

"Hi, hun.." His voice gave away his lack of strength. He hadn't fed since the meeting started, close to twenty-four hours earlier. He needed to feed, and you'd happily give him what he needed so you put your book away and offered him your arm where old puncture wounds sat in varying stages of healing.

But he didn't bring your wrist to his mouth ad he settled on the bed. His hand moved along the length of your arm and down your torso to take off your top, exposing your upper body.

"Daryl, what are you doing?" The two of you hadn't been intimate in a long time, not wanting to be reminded of the hurt it caused you both. "Jus' relax, lemme make it nice fer us both."

Daryl's words had your curiousity piqued and your eyes following his every move from where he started at the edge of the bed to where he now moved to lay on top of you, umderneath the blankets.

"You're being weird." With a smile on your face you kissed the top of his head as he planted kisses on your chest.

"M'bein' nice." Daryl's hands were on your waist , then on the sides of your ribcage before they ended on your chest, squeezing, kissing and licking all over them. You let out a moaned laugh at the tickle of his fingertips and rolled your hips up against his stomach making him growl deep in his throat.

You never watched while he fed. The sight of his monstrous side wasn't one youbwanted to remember may something ever happen to him, but now you watched.

The veins under his skin blackened, spreading from black scleras that surrounded deep red irises. His normally stubby fangs were now long and sharp, ready to bite down and feed from you. His ears had pointed and so had his nails that softly clawed at your sides.

He dragged his long, pointy tongue across one of your tits with a pleased hum at your shiver, grinning so wide it looked like his face had split open. Still, with the gentlest touch he kissed your nipple.

You watched as he opened his mouth. Watched as his fangs pierced your skin, just above your nipple and latched onto it.

You watched as he fed from you. Mimicking a newborn feeding off their mother. Your hands moved on their own, caressing his cold flesh, tracing the scars on his back as he laid with his arms wrapped around you for warmth.

You felt his hard cock against your leg, but he disn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. He was content just feeding and pleasing you in the meantime. He fed off your blood and warmth, giving you all that you wanted.

The need to nurture, but also the realization that even without a child of your own, you had someone who needed you.

His monstrous outside no longer scared you, knowing what laid underneath would never think of hurting you. Your lover had changed over the years, you had lost your personal heater and with that the chance of starting your own family. But you gained a protector, one who may never suffer from a walker bite but needed you more than anything to keep walking beside you.

He needed you as much as you needed him.

You knew breaking him out of the sanctuary would be dangerous. It was a suicide mission. You knew you wouldn’t come out unscathed. You were blinded by your rage, your determination to pull Daryl to safety. Once you saw him, you had not a single doubt that you had made the right choice. They had tortured him with the sun, no animals on which to feed. He was burnt, the right side of his face blistered and raw. He couldn’t heal. He was weak, barely able to run fast enough to ensure the escape you had planned so carefully.

It was that hindrance that left you with a through and through bullet wound to your thigh. The femoral artery had been hit. With a makeshift tourniquet, you had been able to get him out, covered in a blanket to shield him from the dangerous rays that would kill him slowly, drain him of vitality until he was nothing. 

Now, in the cover of the forest, he lay starving while you lay dying. There was really only one resolution and you knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Take my blood.” Your voice scraped against your vocal chords, mouth desert dry. Somehow summoning the energy, you looked up at him. He sat beside you with your head on his shoulder. His jaw was set, but the pain in his eyes remained unhidden.

“No.”

“Daryl, I’m dying.” You could feel it. You were cold, tired, the wound no longer hurting. Your blood seeped out, soaking your jeans. The tourniquet wasn’t enough against an entry and exit wound. “I can still save you.” You knew he could smell it, his heightened senses reacting unbidden. He was fighting the hunger. He always had, especially when it came to you. He would tell you how sweet your blood smelled while he moved inside you. How just a taste would never be enough. He turned to carnal pleasures to overshadow the desire to feed from you.

“I ain’t bitin’ ya.” He sounded desperately determined, still gazing straight ahead. His breathing was bordering erratic, chest heaving. “I’d kill ya. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t. Take what you need, I’m dying anyway.” You stated nonchalantly. You didn’t need long to come to terms with it. Everyday was a battle to survive. You’d been lucky to make it as long as you had. Now, it was all about saving Daryl. The community couldn’t lose him, and you couldn’t die knowing he would follow. “Please.”

“Said I ain’t doin’ it!” As much as he tried to sound undaunted, his voice cracked. 

“Please, Daryl.” Your vision was graying at the edges. “Let me do this for you.” You felt him shift, his movements stiff but deliberate until he was in front of you, irises an intense red instead of the mountain lake blue. You loved both of them, both sides of him, but you knew what this meant and you hoped against hope that he would follow through. He was grappling for control, on the edge of giving in to your request.

“Can’t lose ya. Won’t.” He ducked his head, intending on avoiding the plea in your eyes, forgetting the bloody mess of your leg. When he snapped his gaze back to your face, his pupils were dilated, he was panting harshly through his mouth with the tips of his fangs visible behind his lips. “I’ll do it, but Y/N—” You shivered, the cold fingers of death scrabbling for a permanent grip on your consciousness. “I ain’t losin’ ya.”

He dove forward, pulling on your shoulders to meet him halfway. You always wondered what it would feel like to have him bite you. It wasn’t as painful as you thought it’d be, but you were pounding on death’s door, your skin cold and on the edge of numb. There was a pull when he drew out the first mouthful, a groan vibrating against your neck. He jerked you closer for a better hold and it actually hurt, but you could feel his strength returning, eager to see his face without the burns, without the pinched lines of pain and hunger. Realistically, you wouldn’t. You knew that. You’d be dead by the time he stopped.

Your heart that had been pounding a tattoo against your ribs was now a gentle cadence, a rhythm that held its melody even as it slowed. He jerked you again with a growl that rattled you to your core. It was enough to know that because of you, he would survive. 

“I—I love you.” And with that, your reserves were spent. You surrendered to the pull of nothingness, ready to exist in the darkness, but Daryl would live.

Then you were cold, chilled to the bone. 

You had always read in the books that vampires were much like walkers in the sense that they held no body heat, there was no heartbeat, but also no reflections in the mirror, they would burst into flames or glitter in the sun. None of that was true. Daryl was a human space heater and you could tell the moment he pulled away from you. 

He didn’t drain you. Why? DId he not realize that you were still alive? Were his senses so scrambled that he couldn’t hear your heart still beating? It really didn’t matter. You were dead anyway. He had only unintentionally prolonged the process. 

“Told ya that I ain’t losin’ ya.” His face was suddenly hovering over you, the moonlight carving out his silhouette like a painting. He was beautiful. He was healing. He was—biting his wrist? You were pretty sure that meant something but your brain was shutting down, making coherency impossible. As the urge to close your eyes grew too intense for you to fight any longer, you let them slip shut, the last image being the glow of red morphing into a bright blue that you prayed would surround you in death.

“Daryl.” You breathed. 

And then there was nothing.

With a deep inhale, you shot upright, the moonlight bright and the sounds around you amplified. You felt your heart begin to race, your breathing a panicked cycle of inhales and exhales. You could smell everything, hear everything. The hole in your leg was gone. When you bit your lip, the sharp tip of an elongated canine broke the skin. Overwhelmed, you sought out your peace, the one thing—the one person— that could tether you to reality, ground you. Daryl was sitting across from you, a fire burning between you.

He smiled, fangs still stained with your blood—and his own.

“Told ya that I wasn’t losin’ ya.” You blinked at him for a moment before you couldn’t help but smile back. “An’ I meant it.”