Daryl Dixon Fanfiction - Blog Posts

I saw your little!Daryl post and it warmed my heart! I was wondering if we could get more of that?? Being a cg myself, sometimes I just really wanna comfort that sweet boy. Could you maybe do something where he maybe gets anxious or overwhelmed but he’s in public when he starts to regress and he cries but the reader knows exactly what he needs, so they take him home, knowing he would be too embarrassed to be little around others. No worries if not since you said you weren’t sure how to write him! 🩵

"You'll be okay."

Little!Daryl x reader

A/N This sounds so sweet 🖤 This one will probably be a bit shorter sorry abt thatttt.. also sorry for the delay omg Fluff, 573 word count

You and Daryl were wondering around the Commonwealth. It's the middle of the afternoon, and just about everyone's going out to get lunch. As you and Daryl made your way through a busy, crowded area, you noticed daryl becoming increasingly anxious by the amount of people. It makes him feel small and stuck. His hands started to fidget nervously, his eyes darting in all directions. He slowly got closer to you, seeking your comfort. You quickly pulled him aside to a less crowded area, and put your hands on his shoulders. "Hey, hey.. whats wrong?" You ask, looking at Daryl with a concerned expression. He looked down, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. He feels so vulnerable, so nervous, so scared. You felt terrible for him, and you wiped a tear that began to fall. "Do you want to go home?"

He nods with a slight grunt, looking down at the ground and blinking away a few more tears. You brought his head to the crook of your neck, and he just stayed there, letting out silent sobs. His hands wrapped around you, gripping the fabric of your shirt. His grip tightened and loosened a few times, and he tried his hardest to not cry harder. "Lets go home.."

And home you two went.

You tried to avoid any overly crowded areas to not get him worked up again. Once you got home, you led him to the soft, plush couch and held him close. Neither of you needed to speak. You shifted into a more comfortable position with a sigh, and Daryl rest his head on your chest. You scratched his scalp a bit, and he pretty much purred. He brought his thumb up to his mouth, beginning to suckle on it. You smiled softly, brushing some of his hair back to get a better look at his face. "You had a little freak out huh, bug?" You say, your other hand rubbing his shoulder gently. Daryl nods, his thumb still in his mouth. "You're okay.. you'll be okay." "Would you like some snacks?" You ask, and he nods again. You get up, leaving him on the couch. You walk over to the kitchen, grabbing some of his favorites. They were these biscuits that are made for babies when they're teething. Along with that, you got a small box of apple juice. You took the straw out of the wrapper before poking it through the hole. You returned next to him on the couch and handed him the biscuits and juice. You watched as he snacked on them, becoming more calm by the second.

Once he was finished, he leaned into your side, and looked at you. He mumbled something about wanting his pacifier, so once again, you rose from the couch and went to you and Daryl's shared room to get it. You opened the door and headed straight fo the beside tables, opening the drawers until you find his pacifier. Then you head back to the kitchen, turning on the faucet to rinse off any small fuzzies, dirt, or dust that may have stuck on. You then sat next to daryl, he leaned into you, and you popped the paci into his mouth. He happily started suckling, his eyes slowly closing from sleepiness and comfort. Soon enough, he was asleep, cuddling you, and suckling on his paci.

Daryl's just a sweet boy, and he deserves to be treated as such.

Little one

Summary: teen reader! Daryl finds you lost in a shopping center, he decides to take you back to Alexandria. You find Daryl to be a potential father figure!!

Word count: 2216

warnings: slight cursing, mentions of blood

A/n: this isn’t cg Daryl but more of father figure Daryl? I’m thinking of making a second part cus it feels unfinished… anyway this is my second fic umm I still don’t know everything abt writing so it might be bad ?!?!? Ok enjoy ❤️

Daryl was riding his motorcycle to an abandoned shopping center, desperate to find medical supplies. He parks his bike near a tree a short distance away from the shopping center, getting leaves and fallen tree branches to cover and hide it. He takes his crossbow off his shoulder, double checking it to make sure its loaded with a bolt. Upon entering the building, he immediately heads towards the pharmacy. He makes sure to be quiet in order to not attract any of the undead that may be wandering around. As he arrives, he rummaged through cabinets, drawers, and boxes.

"Dammit, already raided." He grumbles to himself in a low, hushed voice. He turns around with a quiet sigh, getting ready to leave. Just as he heads towards the exit of the pharmacy he hears a small crunch. Quickly turning around, he heads towards the sound to investigate, his crossbow at the ready.

"In the corner of the pharmacy, there you are. Covered in what might be a mix of walker blood and your blood. Dirt covers your worn and torn clothing, and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. Daryl senses your fear and his eyes soften a bit.

"Hey... who are ya? Are ya alright?" He speaks in a calmer tone, his voice still having his gruff charm. He lowers his crossbow slightly, but still keeps it ready. You don't respond, you just continue to look up at him in fear. Daryl sighs and lowers his crossbow completely. He feels bad for pointing it at you, a lost teenager who's probably scared out of your mind. You likely mean no harm.

"Are ya... lost? Do ya need any help?" He continues. "Look, I uh, I got a group... they can help ya. They're good people." He's always been weary when revealing something like that to someone he just met, but come on, you're just a kid who probably needs help.

You fidget with your hands out of nervousness, fingers twiddling around. You take a deep breath and speak with a shaking voice.

"I'm lost.. I-I lost everyone.. I'm so scared..."

Poor kid.

"I don't know where I am, I just want my parents back!”

You start to cry, tears running down your dirty and blood stained cheeks. Daryl feels terrible. Shifting from one foot to the other, he thinks about taking you back to Alexandria to meet the rest of the group and probably live there. He thinks a little while longer, then makes his decision.

"I'll take ya back with me. I got a real nice place I stay at... there's food, clean water," He gets down to one knee to get to your level. "There's uh, nice housing, nice people. There's also other kiddos yer age too, Ya could make some friends." He looks up at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You stare right back at him, a look on your face as if you're considering it. You then nod your head as you wipe your nose on your sleeve, sniffling. "I wanna go with you..."

Daryl's slightly taken aback, but he recomposes himself.

"Are ya sure?" He asks, and you nod. "I'm sure... I wanna go with you."

After a few moments of silence, Daryl nods and stands up. He reaches out a hand to you which you take, and he helps you up. "Alright then," he sighs. "Let's go." You two begin to walk outside the pharmacy and to the exit of the shopping center. The dirt and debris crunch under your feet and the setting sun shines brightly. It’s almost nighttime, and the night chill is already slowly starting to settle in.

You follow him to where he had parked his motorcycle, standing behind him as he moves aside all the leaves and branches he hid it with. Daryl stands up the bike and gets on it, kicking back the stand. You get on behind him, wrapping your eyes around him. After he makes sure you're ready, Daryl revs the engine and the bike begins to move, gradually getting faster.

You both ride through the streets surrounded by woods, the wind whipping through your hair. You rest your head on Daryl's back, finding the wind and high speeds oddly soothing.

Time flies by fast and before you know it, you're at the gates of 'Alexandria Safe-Zone'. The guard at the gates lets Daryl in, and he can feel all the eyes on himself and you. Daryl ignores it, not wanting to deal with anything at the moment. He slowly rides the bike to the house he stays at. He knows he'll be questioned sooner or later about who he brought back with him, but he'll do it with it eventually.

He parks the motorcycle in front of the house and kicks the stand into place, getting off. He helps you get off the bike as well.

"Hey, uh, kid," he starts, scratching the back of his head as you two walk up his porch steps. "Ya can stay with me if ya want, for as long as ya want. I have a spare room ya can stay in. It's got a nice bed and everythin'." He unlocks the door and pushes it open. The house has a warm and cozy atmosphere. It's nicely furnished, but he didn't furnish it himself. All of the houses in Alexandria are pre-furnished as it was originally a quarantine safe zone for politicians when the outbreak first started.

Daryl puts down his crossbow and slips off his boots, leaving them by the front door. You copy him, not wanting to break any unspoken 'no shoes' rule that he may have. Daryl walks over to the couch, plopping down on it and sighing. You do the same, sitting at the corner of it. You bring your legs to your chest, making yourself feel small.

It's a new environment for you, you've pretty much gotten used to being in the woods all alone, having to be stealthy and dodge walkers left to right. But the change is nice, feels a little like how the world was before. It'll just take a bit to get used to.

You can finally get a good look at the man who rescued you. He has a rugged appearance, but for some of reason you don't find him very intimidating. You feel safe around him, like he has a calming fatherly presence.

Then, you break the silence, speaking in a shy voice. "Um, what's your name? I don't think you ever told me."

Daryl looks over to you, eyes softening once more. "Daryl." he responds. "Daryl Dixon." You nod and go back to looking around the house from where you are. You stare into space for a little while before another thought comes up.

"Could you show me where the spare room that you mentioned earlier is?"

Daryl turns his head to you once again and nods. He gets off the couch with a slight grunt. You stand up as well, following him as he leads you up the stairs. He stops in front of a door and opens it, holding it open for you. You walk in and take a look around the room. It's nothing super fancy, but it's well furnished and simple. The moon shines through the window at a perfect angle, dimly lighting up the room in a soft and dreamy glow.

You walk over to the bed that's placed beside the window and sit on the edge of it. "I'm tired..." you murmur sleepily, laying down on the bed. You untuck the blanket and pull it up to your chest. You snuggle into the covers, curling into an almost fetal position. Daryl chuckles to himself, watching you get comfortable. Daryl feels this weird, fatherly urge to protect you, to make sure you're cared for and loved. He has a feeling you two will get along pretty well.

You soon fall asleep, and he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He goes over to his own room, getting ready for bed himself. It's been a long day, riding out to an abandoned shopping center for medical supplies and instead coming back with a lost, orphaned teenager in need of care. He settles into bed, pulling the blankets over himself and falling asleep.

.

.

.

In the morning, Daryl goes downstairs to make his breakfast. You've beaten him to it, already eating orange slices on the couch. You hear his steps and turn your head around, looking up at him.

"Hey..." You mutter, then going back to eating your orange. "Hey." Daryl responds, brushing his hair back a bit and going over to the kitchen. He grabs a glass of water and makes himself some oatmeal that he found during his last supply run. Once its ready, he pours half of it into a separate bowl to share with you. Daryl walks over to the couch and sits beside you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you.

"Ya should eat some more," he starts, grabbing a spoonful of oatmeal and eating it. He waits to finish until continuing. "Getting some oatmeal in ya is good, especially if ya haven't eaten in a while."

You look over at him and then to the bowl in front of you. You set down your orange slices on a napkin and grab the bowl.

"Thanks..." you responded, eating a spoonful. You finish it up pretty quickly, which makes sense. You haven't eaten a proper meal in who knows how long. You eventually finish eating both the oatmeal and orange slices, and you settle back onto the couch. Suddenly, you remember that you're still dirty and need to clean up. Your face flushes out of embarrassment. Have you really been looking like that this whole time?

"Do you have a shower that I could, uh, use?" You asked Daryl in a timid voice, now feeling hyper aware of your dirty appearance.

"Yeah, to the right of yer room." He replied, nodding his head towards the stairs. You nod your head in gratitude, getting up from the couch and going to the bathroom.

.

.

.

That shower was possibly the most refreshing one you've had in a while. There was warm water, soaps, and possibly the fluffiest towels you’ve ever seen. But now you have another problem, clothes. The only ones you have were the torn, dirt covered ones you've been living in for the past few months or maybe even over a year. You wrap a towel around yourself and crack open the bathroom door just enough to peek your head out. "Daryl?" You call out, face flushing from embarrassment once again. "Could I borrow some clothes?" There's a moment of silence before you hear him shout back a "yeah", and you close the door, waiting. You wait for a few minutes until you hear the sound of his heavy footsteps, cloth falling on the floor, and then a knock. After that, he walks away. You wait a few seconds before cracking open the door and taking the clothes he left for you. It's a black shirt with a faded metal band logo printed in white, the pants are dark blue and denim. They're definitely going to be too big and baggy for you, but you wear it anyway.

You tighten the waistband of the jeans to fit you better, and you come out, hair wrapped in a towel. You walk down the stairs, damp feet pattering against the wooden floor. Daryl's still sitting on the couch, but in a more lounged position. You sit close to him and take a breath.

You begin to speak. “Um... this might be a little weird, but to me, you feel like a father." You tell him, and his eyes widen. But he looks touched. "We just met yesterday, but it feels really comforting to be around you." You twiddle your fingers, looking a little embarrassed. But Daryl smiles. It’s subtle, but there’s still a smile on his face.

"Tha's awfully sweet." His voice is softer than you've ever heard before. "I've never had a little one of my own, always kind of wanted to, though. I just don't think i'd be a good dad."

You smile at him, chuckling. "I think you would. You sort of have this really fatherly presence. It was unusually easy for me to warm up to you." You shift close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You smile more. "Maybe I could be your little one. You can like... adopt me, or something."

Daryl chuckles again. "We'll see, kid. We'll see."

You look up at him and then go back to snuggling. You curl up beside him, getting so very comfortable. You feel safe in his embrace, you never want to leave.

“Can we see maybe… now?” You ask in a playful way, looking up at him again. Daryl looks down at you with a slightly wider smile, shaking his head.

“Well, I-… yeah,” he sighs. “Alright, yer gonna be my little one. I’m never gonna let anything happen to ya.” He holds you a little tighter. “I might not be the best daddy, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”

Cuddling with cg!daryl during a storm...

You were little, kneeling on the bed to look out of the window. The wind howled, blowing around objects in the Alexandrian streets, thunder roared, and lightning flashed, lighting up your surroundings. Daryl was laying beside you, an arm tucked under his head. He looked up at you with soft eyes as you watched the storm with the childike wonder that he always admired. He saw how you looked in fascination as you watched the zig-zag like lines of lightning strike, and how after, you would sort of prepare yourself for the possible loud roar of thunder. Soon, your knees became sore, so you lay back down beside Daryl, tucking yourself in his large arms. His cuddles and hugs were so comforting, it felt like a huge weighted blanket full of love and care was wrapped around you. Daryl rolled over slightly to be able to grab your pacifier from the beside table, and he popped it in your mouth, which you suckled happily. You closed your eyes and burrowed further into his warm embrace, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek, then your head. He looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing to him, which you were. You were like a delicate little flower which he would never dare to harm. He would never harm you, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. You lay there in your caregivers arms, your eyes slowly fluttering shut, body relaxing.. the last thing you remember is a soft kiss being placed on your forehead.

hiii could you by chance possibly write some headcanons about daryl with a girly girl he treats like his pretty princess? like her nails look like this bc his hands look like THAT 😩👌💪

a/n: thank u for sending this in to me nonnie bcos i have been all up in my daryl dixon feels and i just want him to smother me

daryl would ABSOLUTELY treat you like the prettiest princess in the whole entire world !! when he catches you doing your make up in the morning for work, or just because you like doing it, he stands there and admires you the entire time. you catch him smiling at you in the mirror, eyes full of awe as he watches you. “yer so pretty,” he’d mumble, almost like a sigh. because he couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. he loves to take you out on dates every friday night, letting you get all dressed up and showing you off whenever you went. he loves the look he gets from guys when they look at you on his arm, and it always makes him a little cocky because yes. he, the local mechanic who was covered in oil and other engine fluids 99% of the time, pulled you.

he loves to take you into whatever store you want— wether you have the intention of buying anything or you’re simply just looking. if he catches you eyeing off an item of clothing he always tells you to try it on, and even if you don’t plan on buying it, he’ll either buy it ( ignoring your protests ) or he’ll sneak back to the store a few days later and leave it on the bed for you to wake up to when he’s left for work in the morning.

he loves it when you get your nails done too, and he especially loves paying for them as well. you always ask him what colour you should get, or if you guys have some wedding or something to go to, you always get a colour that’ll match what his wearing — if not you always match his eyes.

daryl also has several nicknames for you, such as baby, sweetie, pretty princess, darlin’, gorgeous girl— the list keeps going on and on. you’re keeping track almost every day because he’s always got a new nickname for you but each and every time it’s making you all giddy like a lovesick teenager.

yeah <3 🦌🤎

I just want you to know who I am.

And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't wanna go home right now

If you told your self 8 months ago that you wouldn't be on the road anymore, you would've considered yourself delirious from hunger.

But you were, there was a relatively safe place to return home to, no longer on surveillance 24/7 for any danger while looking for a place to rest. It still wasn't easy, suddenly there were new people everywhere.

Sure it was hard to get used to, having to adapt to surviving outside, constant risk, not knowing when the next meal is or if you'll even see tomorrow. And then on a random day you have to unlearn everything to fit in.

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

Daryl and you shared a room, Carol lived in the house too, it was your suggestion, not wanting to leave her alone in a new place, your condition for trying to get used to Alexandria.

It was weird, you and Daryl had been sleeping in the same space since The Prison, when on the road you "slept" side by side, most of the time one of you was on watch unless another member practically forced you both to get some sleep. But this was different. You had a house, a room, a bed. It was intimate.

It was a point of contention at the beginning, Alexandria already felt suffocating and then this advancement was an added pressure. Once you both had moved past it everything was good. It sort of felt like everything was back to normal, a partner, a house, jobs, family.

"You okay?" Daryl's voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"I am now."

Double The Daddies

Daryl Dixon x Single Dad!Male Reader

At first, I can imagine Daryl thinking one of the women were the mother, like people thought Shane was Carl's father

It wasn't until he actually noticed that it was just you two in the tent, I mean most single parents he knew were mothers with dead beat baby daddies, it was a bit of a suprise to him.

But of course, your kid is the one that decides everyone else are "scaredy-cats" and has practically imprinted on Daryl

Daryl at most said a few sentences total to them, doesn't matter how blunt the kid just won't get the hint

The more you had to go collect them or stand near Daryl to be close to them, the closer you and Daryl ended up getting.

If Merle was around he'd never hear the end of how soft he was, but something about this kid just knew how to tug at his heart

It became second nature to look for you in a room, moving closer when there was any danger,

He didn't even notice until Rick was looking for you and pointed out that Daryl tends to keep an eye on you two.

Daryl was honestly scared when he started feeling weird around you, he ended up brining it up to Carol before getting laughed at

He was not amused.

She told him it was called a crush, and that made it worse. What do you mean he had a crush? And to a man? This was all new so he avoided it

Which meant avoiding you and your kid

To say it hurt was an understatement, but your baby was hurt so much worse. They just couldn't understand why Daryl wasn't around anymore

You could push the feelings away when it was just you, but when they asked "Where's Dad Daryl?" it was enough.

It didn't help how they saw Daryl care for Judith, wondering why he didn't like them anymore.

You had to wait till your kid was asleep before confronting him, it was going to end up in a shouting match so hopefully they wouldn't hear it.

Shouting match was correct, what wasn't expected was it to be cut off by Daryl kissing you. He looked as shocked as you did, before you pulled him back in

What you forgot to warn Daryl about was he might accidentally be called dad, and that scared him.

How is he supposed to be a dad? He didnt exactly have a good example growing up. It was something to get used to for sure, but you always gave him the choice to talk and ask them to stop.

You really became a little family, a life without Daryl seemed impossible now.

When Daryl was out on runs he always looked for stuff for you and your kid, it helped that Carl enjoyed to share his comics, or as he said, "infect them with comics."

Your cell had a blanket covering the door, Daryl loved you, didn't hide or deny that he was yours, but he didn't want just anyone to see him so vulnerable.

Your kid, that was one of Daryl's favourite phrases now but you'd never hear it come from his mouth, but it was clear when his smile just slightly raised everytime it was said.

Your kid never left Daryl alone if they could stay together, somehow convincing him to carry them around on his hip or shoulders

If you'd told Daryl before the apocalypse he'd have his own little happy family, he'd have probably taken it as some sort of mockery.

And now he wouldn't change anything, even if it took the world ending to find his new world.

hear me out. daryl x single dad male reader AND rick grimes x father figure for carl male reader.

i might do a thing for both bc i love the idea of daryl becoming a dad for ur kid

or rick just falling in love seeing how Carl goes to you for support, Lori was there but she wasn't there for him.

Husbands

Daryl Dixon x Husband!Male Reader

I like to imagine Daryl eloping, mainly because he got the courage and because there's not exactly many people he would even want there

Merle sort of grew to accept you? More like he just makes little comments that didn't seem in "bad" faith, he's grown a bit atleast.

As much as you didn't like the groups Merle was in cahoots with, and all the trouble he got in, but you helped Daryl clean up after him.

But then the apocalypse happened.

You obviously got out with the Dixon brothers, it would be a cold day in hell if you separated from him.

At the camp neither of you told the group you were married, and Daryl tended to keep PDA to a minimum anyways

The group couldn't tell what your relationship was, obviously Daryl and Merle were brothers but were you and Daryl just good friends?

It was something you teased Daryl about, how good friends you were, he always said it wasn't as funny as you found it but you saw his smile.

It took a while before someone figured it out, not even on purpose, Carol went to go ask if y'all wanted your clothes washed, and caught you holding Daryl against a tree

Needless to say, you couldn't face Carol for a while and Daryl took every chance to make comments about it.

It didn't help he had a hickey that reminded you everytime you saw it.

It was the CDC that most of the group guessed something was going on, you both could hold your drink but you couldn't hold the PDA back.

Daryl no longer had a name, it was only "My Husband", if anyone said Daryl you corrected them, most of the group assumed you were teasing him with how he kept going red and pushing you off him.

It was a nice takeback to before the outbreak, and people who were hungover (mostly Glenn, Daryl and you got him absolutely wasted for fun) forgot about it.

When the group finally knew the PDA was slightly increased, mostly just a chaste kiss and holding eachother

Daryl never realised how much he missed just holding you, he would never admit it to you, especially to anybody else.

It was everybodys favourite way to tease you both, especially Carol, asking Daryl 'how his husband felt', to 'ask his husband for permission'

There was never just one of you, y'all were a package deal, it was accepted before they even knew of your relationship

Daryl never got over being reffered to as 'Mr and Mr Dixon', yeah that's literally what your were but his cheeks always flushed.

When it came to resting it was easier next to you, when Beth died he couldn't sleep unless you were holding him

At first he "assured" you he was fine, he just wanted to take watch so that others could rest up, but then you gave him a choice between cuddling or you take watch with him

Daryl was hoping to just stay with you until you fell asleep and then go back on watch, but he practically passed out, being the last to wake up the next morning

He acted upset but he was grateful you managed to force him to get some sleep.

Hunts was the time you two spent to get some food, but also spend some alone time away from the groups eyes

It didn't exactly hide what you had done, nobody believed that Daryl's flushed face, messed up hair and hickey just barely hidden under his shirt was simply from a "hard hunt".

They'd pretend to save y'all the embarrassment, but that didn't stop them from making jokes about "how hard the hunt must've been" and how "Daryl will need some rest after that hard, rough hunt."

Carl didn't exactly understand most of the jokes but he found fun poking at Daryl.

As the group grew closer, becoming a family, Daryl became more comfortable with PDA, not completely, but he wasn't as reserved with kissing, no longer just restriced to a quick kiss that was barely a feather touch

He didn't have to worry that the group would send disgusted looks at him, they're family, they loved him.

You loved him.

Carl: “you look very pretty today y/n”

Y/n: “how sweet of you Carl thank you“

Daryl watching from behind y/n: …

Later in the day

Y/n: “Daryl I haven’t see you all day where you been”

Daryl: “I don’ know why don’ ya go ‘nd ask Carl”

Y/n : “what- Daryl are you jealous?”

Daryl: …

Y/n “ Daryl he’s eleven?!”

Daryl mumbling: “ tha’ ain’ a excuse”

Y/n: “ he’s a kid dare”

Daryl: “ don’t matter ta’ me”

⋆.˚✮Heyo~!✮˚.⋆

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ Call me Void! [He/They/Jest]୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A constantly shifting concept trying their hand at practically every form of art you could think of.

ᰔᩚ Requests are Open, and Questions are always Welcome ᰔᩚ

What I WILL Write!

Trans/Queer/Neurodivergent Reader

Any gender Reader/Character [though I tend to lean towards male]

Platonic/Romantic/Queerplatonic Relationships

AUs

Heavy Angst [though please ask first]

What I Will NOT Write!

Incest, Pedophilia, Smut/Detailed Rape, Noncon/Dubcon, Babytrapping, +others.

I have the right to deny any requests that make me uncomfortable.

Characters I Write For~ Daryl Dixon [TWDS]

Masterlist Below

Masterlist

Fluff~ 🌟

Angst~ 💫

Smut~ ✨️

☾ Proper Fics ☾

• Wildflowers 🌟

Pairing: Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: Memories and flowers of the grazing field

TW: none

• I'd Rather Be Asleep 🌟

Pairing: Medic! Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: Rather than getting some much needed rest, you're again called to aid the archer. Some banter to lighten your mood?

TW: blood, medical procedures, injury

•Fishing [cont.] 🌟

Pairing: Reader x Daryl Dixon

Summary: It's not the most ethical way to do it, but it worked, so...

TW: blood, gutting a fish

𖤓 Drabbles/Yapping 𖤓

• Daryl with Western!Reader 🌟

TW: none

• Daryl and Reader with a Small Dog 🌟

TW: none

• Daryl with Depressive!Reader 🌟

TW: depression

• Daryl with Reader who's scared of turtles 🌟

TW: none

☆ Ideas ☆

• Fishing [OG post] 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: none

• Trauma Bond/Cops Don't Help Much 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: trauma with cops/law enforcement

• Stereotypes 🌟

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

TW: none

Short drabble from this :p

You don't notice him for quite a while. The occassional rustle of overgrown grass from the wind and a distant crackle of water falling unto the rocky shore below it had faded into a calming soundtrack as you thought. An embarrassing amount of time, really, until Daryl lightly nudged your shoulder, worried how you weren't blinking for a concerning amount of time.

You blinked a few times before looking at him. You watched how he faltered a moment, an awkward beat, before he spoke.

"You okay?" His voice was still that rough southern you were used to, but still held that edge of softness that spoke better than anything words could.

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes flickering back to the hazy moonlight. Breathing felt heavier in your chest, as if a boulder was tight against your chest. Not as if you were about to cry. More so... a long fought-off tired feeling. It was an uphill battle.

"I'd be lying if I say 'yes'," You finally admit, a failing attempt at a smile catching your lips a moment.

Hazy mornings grew to hazy nights, unable to remember what you did in-between the passing of time. You did something, you're sure. At least, you think are you. You can recall... hm. Not much. A few passing words. Blood of the walkers, staining your hands before being washed away in the river you and Daryl always passed by on your runs. The rustic, mucky colour that spelt of both blood and dirt swirled in the coursing water for seconds before dissipating into the quick pace of the stream.

You let out a tight breath, willing away emotions that so rudely clinged onto you like mosquitos in the summer. It felt worse, how it wasn't a need to cry or be angry, either. It tightened your lungs and made breathing feel like a labour, and sleep sounded of the finest wine- a perfect ailment, though unobtainable in your situation.

Daryl's knee tapped yours, words stuck in both your throats, but not needing to be said. He was there, and he saw you. The same way the sun rises unto flowers neglected each morning, the same way the moon glows in the comfort of night. Simple, but relevant.

And that was really all you needed.

Daryl with a partner who gets depressive episodes but not like crying all the time or laying around they just go silent. And like. Everyone's concerned because what do you mean you went quiet? No no no, the excitable guy over there? You've got the wrong person.

Still going on runs and pulling their weight where they stay, but just. Silent. Lingering a bit too much.

And Daryl doesn't know really what to do with it. He can barely healthily deal with his own emotions, comforting someone else is a big bite to chew. But he still tries. Maybe just staying with them. Nudging them with a water canister or some spare food to make sure they're eating and drinking, even if they're too zoned out to realize they're doing it. Staying by them, a mutual dampened air that's bittersweet and tainted with unspoken complications. But it's better, not being alone. It helps.

I'd Rather Be Sleeping

Pairing- Daryl x GN! Medic! Reader

Summary- As tired as you are, it's still your job to help those who need it as medic. You're unsure whether to be grateful or not it's someone you're constantly bantering with, though.

TW- off-character Daryl? Mentions of blood and medical procedures

A/N~ wow I don't know how to conclude stories lol 😔 this was meant to be out like a week ago but I accidently just kept extending the story. Oh well!

The casual ruckus of being pulled around from place to place was an endless energy you were used to. Whether it be something as simple as a few scratches or having to amputate someone's arm without hesitation, you were there. With the way everybody always seemed to need you, being one of the few remaining doctors, it'd be easy to think you never got any rest. This is normally true. Not today, however.

You were, admittedly, quite proud of yourself as you sat back with a deep sigh. The plush of the couch was slightly rustic, but *so* much better than how you'd be on your feet. Moving quickly from place to place with adrenaline rushing through your system for hours at a time wasn't something you'd recommend for fun. You had, finally, for the first time in who knows how long, gotten some time to yourself. Where all other scrapes of time had been spent passed out on the nearest surface, sometimes even standing up, being able to just breath felt like watching a sunset on a Californian beach. Something beautiful that you had earned, a soft smile playing your lips as you felt your eyelids begin to weigh down.

The cool air still lingered with the heat of the day, mixing into almost a blanket-like warmth to the atmosphere. The sky faded into one of those classic pinkish-yellow pastels that you'd expect to see in those cheesy romance movies, but you couldn't complain. The soft colours were much nicer than the deep red of draining blood you saw oh-too-often. Old springs gave muffled creaks as you shifted on the faded sofa, welcoming the idea of a restful sleep you've been so deprived of for the past weeks.

Which you *would've had*, if not for the door shooting open like a stray bullet, startling you and almost toppling off the couch.

"So sorry to bug you, but, uhm- the archer guy just come back from their scavenging, and- well, he's not looking too good."

You stuff your face in the couch cushions and groan with a tired longing before forcing yourself up, rubbing your temples and brushing off the young recruit.

"Mhm, yeah," you mumble, your body fighting with the urge to just let the person go but knowing you had a job to do. Your feet moved quickly to the medical tent almost on instinct, already knowing who to expect there but holding onto that sliver of hope that maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind playing with you.

No. Of course not. You were a doctor, it was your job to keep tabs on people who frequently visited. And Daryl Dixon was one of them.

Okay. Maybe you were overexaggerating how often he ended up in the medical tent, with the way he was so good on his own. And even if he did get injured, it was usually something small, or he patched himself up. But it only took you one time to watch him try to stitch a deep cut on his own that you decided, yeah, he needed more help than he'd let himself.

Your relationship was... *interesting*, to put it politely. You maybe pushed a bit too much to make sure he was alright, which resulted in pointless banter between the two of you often. But to be fair, it was for his own good! He claimed he didn't need help, you said he was gonna get himself infected. He got himself infected as you said, and you scolded him. He refused your medical knowledge for his pride and you tended to him in spite of it. The whole while throwing meaningless insults at each other. Regardless- there was still a mutual respect for the work you both did.

"Daryl," you greeted with that hint of fading tolerance you held special for him.

He only gave a quiet huff to acknowledge your presence, always hating 'wasting time' in the medical tent.

"Charming as ever, I see," you mutter under your breath, your eyes examining the man infront of you with a trained practice for any immediate signs of injury. It's not hard to notice the way he favours his right side, his lower left arm covered in blood and dirt and shrapnel and whatever else he got into in those woods.

You give a soft click of your tongue, not sure whether to ask what happened or make fun of the usually so-careful archer.

"'What, 'cha explode somethin' recently?" You give a soft scoff of amusement, moving beside him to begin taking out the shards impaling his skin. Your hands move with a careful though quick ease, noting the way Daryl tenses and takes a quiet breath in, though refuses to give any signs he's in pain.

"You'd be interested too if'ya saw a firework stand just waitin' there," He rolls his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "You can do a lot with a lighter. You certainly seem to know that," He teases, poking fun at the way you accidentally set your tent on fire last week. You could still feel the flickering hear of the flames that had grown much quicker than you had thought would've. Thankfully, there wasn't really any lasting damage beside some light burns on your hands and arms and getting scolded.

You give a light hum, a smirk playing on your lips as the air between you sparks with a playful challenge.

"Fireworks, huh? That's a shame, then. Maybe if you had stepped a bit closer-"

"Maybe if you had been in the stand when it happened-"

"Maybe if you had taken me with you, I would've-"

"Maybe if- *ow*-"

"Sorry."

You finished taking out the shrapnel, now cleaning the dirt and blood off with a rag. The sharp sting of hydrogen peroxide you used to help clean the wounds took Daryl off guard, the banter dropping from there.

Minutes passed in a comfortable silence as you worked, Daryl just watching with a faint interest as you applied some salve to the worst of the cuts and bruises.

"M'kay, well..." You hum, after a bit, taking a step back to check if you missed anything. "I'd say try to take it easy, but I doubt you'll do that."

Daryl stands up and stretches, your eyes darting away and trying to ignore the way his torn clothes and toned body is unfairly hot- what, who said that-

"'S jus'a few scratches. On'y reason I'm 'ere 's 'cause your little assistant got nervous," the archer spoke plainly, moving to stand at the entrance way of the medical tent. The sun had went from a bright, hot afternoon, to a more hazy evening. The sky dripped with pastels that faded into each other, seconds slowly dragging the sun down the horizon alike curtains closing on a performance. The bustle of the people usually constant had now lessened as daylight waned with the persistent progression of time.

"Kyle?" You chuckle softly, remembering the way the young protégé had burst into the room when you were so ready for some proper rest. He was definetly a bit jumpier than what you'd recommend for the tasks he wanted to learn, but he was so insistent and determined... who were you to deny one knowledge of healing? "He means well. Just a bit nervous," you summed up. Daryl just gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgement, silence falling onto both once more.

You leaned on a nearby tree that provided shade in the hotter days as the year grew closer to summer. The lack of talk between you two was normal- you didn't really need to to feel comfortable with the other- but today's seemed... different, in a way. The noiseless air stretched on, and you glanced at Daryl only to see him quickly look away when you caught his eye. He looked as if he wanted to say something. He had a lot recently- lingering near the medical tent, fidgeting with the hem of his torn jacket as if waiting for the right moment to approach you. But for the past week, you've been busy and tired and just looking for the next moment of rest. Looking back, you felt a bit bad you didn't pay as much attention as you usually did to the loner.

You shift in your spot, the silence evolving to be more awkward than before.

"...you alright?" You speak out of nowhere.

"What? Uh- yeah. 'Course," Daryl scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching as the sun began to dip on the edge of the sky.

"Riiiight," you hummed, though laying off on the question. Maybe another time. For now, all you could do was take in the fading daylight and finally let yourself rest.