Daryl Dixon X Reader - Blog Posts

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.

Totally self indulgent but hey, that's the point, innit?

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Daryl who has a western partner, who isn't used to snow. Waking up and they're just frozen [haha] in awe staring at the soft pieces of ice drifting from the sky. Asking why they need such heavy clothing until they actually get outside because they're so used to the temperature being high as hell. Daryl teasing about not being able to handle the cold, shivering like some wet cat.

Daryl with a western partner who'll casually slip in some Spanish without realizing it, because they grew up with a lot of mixed culture or they grew up Mexican themselves. Rolling their R's and having that slight accent that makes people question where exactly they're from. Daryl glancing at them with a subtle confusion when they mumble under their breath, "Where's the, uh- *cómo se llama, manzanas-* the apples?"

Daryl with a western partner who sometimes talks much too fast for everyone else to understand. Ranting about something they're excited about only to pause because everyone's staring like they just started speaking Martian. Daryl having to lightly nudge them midsentance because they don't realize they're *only getting faster* from excitement/anxiety/just fumbling with words.

Daryl with a western partner who bite back a laugh at their pronunciations. The two are out on a run and they're just talking when they just turn away with a muffled snicker, Daryl giving them a lightly offended 'what?'

"Wait, wait, just- repeat that."

"Repeat what? 'We need'a find som'more oil 'fore the night'?"

"Oh, darlin'. *'Ole?'*"

"Shut up. How do you say it?"

"Oil. Like oy-l."

"'S not two syllables, idiot."

In turn, Daryl also teasing them for the way they'll say 'like' a lot or say 'y'all'd've'.

Wildflowers

Pairing- Daryl Dixon x GN! Reader

Summary- Quiet memories and flowers

TW- none really, curses once or twice

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The pair looks across the open field, memories flooding back of when they had first met- you, half-dead all on your own, but alive. And Daryl, his crossbow pointed to your head and his eyes guarded as they always were. You both just stood there, tension crackling in the air as one waited for any sublte movement from the other. Your breath had caught when he shot, of course expecting the worst from this strange, roughed-up looking man. A muffled thud and rustle of grass behind you convinced you to breath again, noticing- wow. You weren't dead [somehow]!

It was quiet now, the air stinging with a sharp cold and the rotting smell of walkers that had passed through the area.

Despite the almost dead air, the sight was a needed break from the crumbled buildings and long-forgotten cities and towns you'd see every day. Wildflowers- pops of yellows and hazy blues grew with an enviable freedom, and the sun caught on the tips of the dense grass. The earthy scent in the air was noticable, subtle touches of wild mint and freshly watered grass. As if the world hadn't gone to shit. As if folks weren't dying everyday in horrific ways.

"I thought you were some fallen angel when I first saw 'ya," you tease quietly, the soft hush of wind a soothing whisper for peace, even if fleeting.

"I thought you were alrea'y dead," Daryl responded gruffly, his eyes on the horizon.

You give a soft chuckle. That was fair. Your body was caked in mud and blood- both yours and of walkers. Being all out on your own, focused on the slightest shuffle of feet that could mean life or death, you weren't exactly putting a lot of effort into lookin' pretty.

"Still," You continued, your eyes following the other's to the fading sky. "Why didn't you shoot me then?"

Silence once more draped the pair like a weather-worn blanket. You glanced at him, trying to figure out why he didn't answer. Did he just not hear? Was he ignoring you? Or maybe he just didn't have an answer?

You didn't get a response, as Daryl then began making his way back to the grazing horses you two had arrived on. You blinked, unsure if to be slightly offended or just sum it up to Daryl's odd personality, though followed him anyways. It's not smart to be out at night.

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A/N~ agrhagrgabsg haii! Thank you for reading! This is my first fic, so... wow! I got unneedingly nervous posting this.

I'm not entirely sure if this is just a drabble or the start to a fic, because, to be entirely fair, I am winging all of this [as I'm sure many of us are]. I also was trying to add images, but I couldn't figure out how to make them smaller. Sorry chat 😔. Hopefully more works like these soon, though [and taking less time]!

Can I have a request for Daryl smut, where he has always been kind of a closed off and always during sex would keep his shirt on not wanting you to see his scars but one night you walk into your guys bedroom(during Alexandra time) while he’s getting changed and he freezes pretty much and you show him how much you love every part of him including his scars. @ me plz!

Scars

Pairing: Daryl x gf!Reader

Masterlist!

Rating: 18+

Warnings:Trama, Walkers,smut,Praise Kink,Talk about Scars, Fluff

A/n: this is my first smut so sorry if there are mistakes or that it sucks

Hearing the gates close behind you and Daryl as you guys make your way to Maggie and Rick who take the dead rabbits and dear you guys have managed to find surprisingly, it took five hours but it was worth it. You and the others meet up to talk about who’s going on the supply run tomorrow when Daryl and Rick say they’ll go and take a couple other men just to be safe,after discussing what’s going to happen, you all head back to your homes for the day. You and Daryl walk inside. Daryl sits down and starts cleaning his bow while you cook dinner for the both of you.

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After finishing the food you grabbed a bowl for you and Daryl and sat down in front of him after handing him his bowl. “What time are you guys going on the supply run tomorrow?” You ask hoping he’ll be home by the time you wake up. “Early mornin but I don’t know what time I’ll be back hopefully before yer awake” he reply’s before getting up and putting his plate in the sink after finishing his soup and you do the same and wash them and put them away. “Okay let’s get some sleep then so you can wake up early enough” you say walking upstairs to your room. Taking off your holster with your knife and gun in it, putting it on the dresser and changing into a big shirt and shorts and head into the bathroom to brighten your teeth,closing the door behind you so Daryl can get changed.You come out after hearing Daryl lay down and you go around to your side and lift the blankets to lay underneath them and cuddle into Daryl’s side with your head on his chest. You say your goodnights before falling asleep.

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The next morning you wake up feeling around the bed expecting Daryl to be on his side of the bed but no luck when you’re met with nothing but coldness. You get up and get dressed,strapping your knife into your holster,before heading out of yours and Daryl’s house.You greet Maggie taking over your shift for look out.

Few hours go by when you hear the sound of a motorcycle, telling the guys below to open the gates while getting down from your spot, You go ask how the supply run went when you see Daryl is all covered in dirt and blood.After a short conversation with the others you take Daryl to your guys house knowing he needs a shower after all that.giving him some privacy you leave your room for him to shower. You’ve always left when he would take off his shirt,he was very insecure about it and you didn’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable and feel like he had to tell you what happened. Every since you started dating him he would always leave his shirt on even during sex. It didn’t bother you of course it didn’t,but you wondered what happened and why he doesn’t take off his shirt but you don’t wanna push him,so you always drop it. Fifteen minutes later you walk back into your room,usually he’s done and dress by then, but upon opening the door you see him just now finally getting his shirt off,he freezes hearing the door open,turning his head. You walk over to him and run your hand down his back feeling every scar. “Disgusting aren’t they?” Daryl grumbles turning his head away from yours not wanting to look at you. “Their not gross,there part of who you are and what you have been through”, you place soft kisses to every scar. You pull away and grab his hand going into the bathroom and turning on the water. Taking your own clothes off you step in the shower telling him to get in too, after finally convincing him,you grab a rag and start to wash his body. After finishing everything, you look up at him seeing that he’s watching you with admiration and lust. You kiss him softly then he pulls you into him and deepens the kiss making it urgent with need. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. His firm cock getting in contact with your skin got a low moan from him, the sound muffled by your mouth locked on his. Desperate for air, you pulled away, panting. His mouth shot to your throat, kissing and sucking on all your tender spots he passed so much time mentally mapping. The head of his cock teased your entrance, a buck of your hips telling him your ready. His hard shaft slowly got in with ease, you walls tighten around him with ease. It was there that he truly felt at home, in you to the tilt, connected to you in the most intimate way and allowed to share every feeling with you without any shame. With each trust your panting accelerated and your moans became louder. Music to his ears, your voice encouraged him to go faster and deeper, reaching spots that he knew would get you to your climax and get him over the edge with you. You lay your head into his neck as the water runs down you guys, sucking on his neck softly telling him how much you love him,every part of him. His thrusts are slow but filled with lust and love. He moves his head into your neck and cries softly into your neck allowing his walls to break down, him repeating over and over again that he loves you. You clench around him reaching your climax as you hold his closer knowing he’s close too. “Let go baby,please I wanna feel you” you moan feeling your climax take over you as you cum, along with Daryl feeling him let go into you not wanting to let you go. Resting your forehead against his you hear him mumble,not understanding him you ask him to repeat it. “Ma’ry me?” Daryl mumbles again to you hoping you hear him. Not expecting him to ask you think look look at him in shock but lean down and kiss him before nodding your head yes. Closing your eyes having everything you wanted right in front of you even though right outside those walls the world is shit and everything can change any second.

Request asked by: @mxltislasher

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Me, a fanfic reader who can survive off nothing but just words and day dreams herself to sleep: