#WELL RICK JUST TEAR OUT MY HEART WHILE YOURE AT IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cultofdixon · 2 months

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Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.

When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.

After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.

Which led them on the roof this night…

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”

“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”

“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”

“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”

“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.

“You remember when you first held Judith?”

“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”

The confused look on his face gave her answer.

“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”

“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“

“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”

Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.

“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.

“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”

“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”

As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.

“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.

The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing

About four months later…

Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.

“Think you can handle breakfast?”

“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.

“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“

“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”

“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”

Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”

“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.

“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”

“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“

“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”

The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.

“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”

“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”

“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”

“Michonne”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.

“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”

“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.

“How’s the construction going?”

“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”

“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.

As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.

“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”

“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.

It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.

The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.

“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”

“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.

“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.

As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.

A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.

Baby.

…

Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.

“Daryl”

“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”

“Did something happen?”

“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.

But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.

“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”

“Gabriel? Yes, why?”

“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”

“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.

“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”

“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.

The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.

Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.

“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.

“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”

“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”

The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.

Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.

Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.

“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”

“What?”

“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.

Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.

As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry—-“

“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”

“Daryl…”

“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”

Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.

“There’s a lead”

“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”

“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”

“You’re willing to be bait?”

“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.

The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.

As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.

“Seriously. Just let me go”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”

“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.

Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.

“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”

“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”

And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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lanadelnegan · 29 days

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Ghost - Part 3

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Part 2 here // Part 4 here

Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective

A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!

Negan’s POV:

I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name.

I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck.

I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck.

"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon.

Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation.

“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.”

“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”

Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.

I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."

Your POV, earlier that day:

“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...

Care about… again.

“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me.

“Yes, understood.”

The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge.

So why did I want to save him?

“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”

Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Some people deserve it.”

“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”

“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled.

“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”

“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?”

I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others.

“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead.

I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months.

“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.

“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”

Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this.

Of course not. Surrender, goddammit.

I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear.

The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.

I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.

“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.

“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”

He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.

“You never came. I waited on you all night.”

My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice.

“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.

“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”

When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.

How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him.

“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?”

With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him.

“Negan..”

“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down.

I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”

His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”

“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.

"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."

"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"

"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."

"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."

"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."

Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."

I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.

"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."

"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."

I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.

Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.

We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.

"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."

What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."

Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.

Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗

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winterrsun · 2 months

Text

Comfort

Reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only

A/n: This is smut but it’s like the fluffiest sappiest smut, it’s meant to be really emotionally gratifying. Also I’ve really kinda half heartedly set it up for a part 2 where they reunite with the group and Rick…let me know if you think I should continue this!

Summary: after the prison fell, you and Daryl start to mourn what you’ve lost and find comfort in each other, both emotional and physical.

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The last couple of weeks had been such a blur. After the prison fell, you were thrown back into survival mode and all sense of security was gone. You never knew where your next meal would come from, or whether you were minutes away from death. You were grateful you’d gotten out in the company of Daryl and Beth; you’d always gotten along with both of them and Daryl was one of the most experienced survivalists. It was nice having Beth to talk to and relate to the experience as well, neither of you being natural outdoorsmen. Even if he was a grumpy ass most of the time, and she was still a bit of a bratty teenager at heart, you’d fast grown extremely reliant on both of them being around you.

You’d all found a small shack to hole up in for a couple of nights, you’d also found a stash of moonshine in the cupboard. Beth had been insistent on trying her first drink. It made you both amused and sad when you compared her experience to your teenage party years, so while Daryl disapproved you thought it was only fair to have your own little party. That’s how the three of you ended up on the living room floor, laughing your heads off.

“Really Y/N, you never been camping?!” Beth questioned incredulously.

“Yer even more a princess than I thought” scoffed Daryl.

“Yeah yeah,” you laughed, “well I suppose my whole life’s a big camping trip now.”

“Alright alright, my turn!” Daryl exclaimed. “I never… bin to a wedding”.

“You what?! Daryl that’s just sad” you said before taking a large swig of the homemade booze.

“Yeah, even I’ve been to a couple. Only other time I drank any liquor, daddy let me have a glass of champagne” said Beth.

“What part of my life was a fucking shit show before all this do you two not get” he grumbled.

You rubbed his arm, “alright we know, just teasing you” you smiled.

Beth’s giggles turned to hiccups, and she eventually lay her head down on the sofa and you realised she’d gone to sleep.

You nudged Daryl and nodded at Beth. He smiled at you, and pointed to the singular bedroom in the shack- suggesting you and he should move into the other room so as not to wake her.

The room was small; a double bed took up almost all the floor space, so you plopped yourself down on it. Daryl followed, carrying the bottle of moonshine with him. He took a sip before passing it to you, who did the same.

“She’ll be right” he gestured to the door, referring to Beth in the other room.

“I know” you replied, “we’ve all been there, she just needs to sleep it off.”

He nodded and you fell into an easy silence, both taking additional sips now and then. You grew pensive, and some of the thoughts you’d been mulling around for days started to come to the surface. The tipsy haze in your brain had your lips moving before you even knew you wanted to share what was on your mind.

“I don’t think I’ve said it,” you said, looking to Daryl, “but I’m so grateful for the two of you. The amount of times I’ve wondered what kind of state I’d be in if I was on my own…”

“Can’t be thinkin like that” he replied gently.

“I know. It’s just, it makes me mad to think about how quickly our circumstances changed. Things were so good Dar, they were finally all coming together. And then…..it’s just nothing in this world can ever really work can it?” You were rambling a little, but Daryl didn’t look like he was going to challenge you or tell you to be quiet. He just looked at you sadly.

“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” You whispered to him. A tear escaped your eye and started to trickle down your cheek.

“I don’t know” he replied, and to your surprise he reached towards your face and softly wiped the tear of your cheek, “but I’m glad we’re here together too”.

He didn’t remove his hand from your face, in fact he gently cupped your chin. You leaned into it, while his head dipped closer to you and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and allowed the sweet sensation to wash over you.

When he pulled back away he looked unsure of himself, and mumbled a “sorry” to you.

You shook your head, placed your hands on his chest and leaned back toward him, kissing him more deeply this time. His tongue crept into your mouth and started to dance with yours.

Your hands drew up behind his neck as the two of you continued, and he reached for your waist, pulling you into his lap. The kiss grew needier as you straddled him; it wasn’t a need driven by pure sex and physical desire. It was like all the emotions you’d been feeling since the prison poured into your movements, and Daryl lapped them up and returned them with his own. You could’ve been hugging, or crying in each others arms, but instead you were kissing and writhing against each others bodies and it had the same cathartic effect.

You clung onto him as he pulled his lips away from yours briefly, to gently and slowly peel your dirty shirt up from your body. You allowed him to manoeuvre your arms overhead so he could take it off and toss it aside. He then reached around and unclasped your bra, and took a moment to stare at and admire the sight before him.

“You’re beautiful” he almost whispered, starting to run his hands over your breasts and grope them lightly. “I’m gonna take care of you Y/N, I promise”.

You were almost overwhelmed at this moment of pure bliss. You’d never thought there’d be anything sexual between you and Daryl. He was one of your best friends, with a bond like family. Sure he was hot. You’d notice his biceps peaking out of that winged vest and your heart might’ve quickened slightly every time you saw the way he gripped his motorbike handles. But you’d always just been friends.

Let alone the fact that you actually had a thing with his best friend. You and Rick had never defined whatever it was between you, but there was denying when he snuck into your cell nearly every night who you belonged to.

But Rick was gone. You didn’t know where, or if he was even alive, or if you’d ever see him again. It played on your mind every single day. You missed him so much more than all the others, longed for him. You were sick of it eating at you, and you just wanted to feel good for the first time in weeks.

You clawed at Daryl’s shirt, and he took a break from massaging your breasts to help you remove the black tee from his body. You pressed into him as your lips found his again and you relished the feeling of his skin against yours. It felt warm and unbelievably comforting. He began to rub circles on the small of your back and you arched into his touch.

“Daryl” you breathed against his mouth.

“What do you need baby?” He asked, pulling back and grabbing your face in both of his hands, eyes searching yours.

“You…I just need you” you said pleadingly.

Daryl shifted beneath you and lifted you up to flip you onto your back on the bed.

He slowly pulled your pants down and hovered over your torso, looking at your cotton panties. He dipped down and placed a soft kiss on your abdomen, creeping along your hip line. You hummed and wriggled at the tickling sensation, enjoying it. You felt a warmth envelop you from his touches. Then his fingers hooked into the elastic around your waist and pulled the fabric down from your body.

He ran his hand back up your leg, his eyes following the movements before he flitted them up to your face. You made eye contact and he sought the non verbal confirmation that you were okay. You bit your lip in anticipation as you gazed up at him, allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable under his touch. Now fully naked on the bed.

You gasped as his fingers found their way into your fold, and began to gently stroke around. You flinched slightly as he ran over your clit for the first time, and he placed a kiss back on your lips, then trailing down your neck. He began drawing circles around your sensitive nub at a steady but not too fast pace and he lifted his head back up to study your face again.

“So beautiful” he commented. You arched your back off the bed and moan softly. He picked up the pace a little and your pleasure increased.

“Daryl” you gasped, “I need more. I want all of you”.

He nodded, stroked your hair with his free hand before withdrawing them both to unbutton and remove his pants. You lowered your eyes and watched as he freed his sizeable cock from his underpants. You sat up and leaned forward, glancing up at him with doe eyes before attaching your lips to his member.

He groaned as you took him in your warm, wet mouth. You suckled and licked around it, playing with him while lubing him up for you. His hands found their way into your hair, loosely gripping it while you bobbed your head back and forth. He threw his head back and savoured the sensation.

After a little while you pulled away and he gently pushed your shoulder so you lay back on the bed. He braced himself over you and lined himself up, gazing down into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, hovering outside your entrance. You nudged your head up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Me too” you said softly.

Then he slowly thrust into you. It ached just a little on the way in, but you quickly adjusted to him. For the first time in weeks you felt whole, and human, and like you were capable of something other than simply just surviving as he sank inside you.

You tensed around him and wrapped your legs around his body, which he took as a signal to start pumping his hips in and out of you. Warmth filled your body, radiating from your core to chest at the feeling of connection and intimacy. To your surprise, tears prickled your eyes as you felt emotionally stimulated as much as physically. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit onto Daryl’s shoulder, allowing his warm skin to absorb the moan that left you.

“Don’t need to keep too quiet pretty girl” he said encouragingly. You smirked and let go, noting the love bite you’d left behind before moaning out into the room this time as his hips continued to pound into you.

He pulled out briefly and you were left feeling empty and disappointed, just for him to gently grab your thigh and push your leg back towards your face, hooked behind his arm. He pushed back in and you relished the new, deeper angle.

“Fuuuck, yesss” you hissed and he smirked down at you.

“Feels good baby?” He cooed before grind his hips in a particularly deep thrust and you nodded, moaning in reply.

He picked up the pace now and you felt the heat grow in your belly, driven more by lust at this point. Your climax was building, and it was as if Daryl could tell. He drove into you faster than before, angling his hips upwards to hit just the right spot.

“Dar! I’m gonna” you began-

“I know baby, let go” he soothed.

With an almost scream you came, it rippled through you in waves and he rode it out with you. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the situation you were in, the home you’d lost, the people you’d been seperated from. It was just bliss for a perfect moment.

As your pleasure subsided Daryl snapped his hips into a few more hard times before grunting himself and moving to pull out of you.

“Don’t!” You cried without thinking, holding his hips to yours with your small hands. You felt his dick pulsate inside you as he painted your walls with his cum. It was the last, comforting gesture you wanted to take from him tonight. The feeling of him filling you up as much he possibly could.

His sweaty forehead met yours as he stopped moving, and you felt his penis jerk inside you one last time before all was still. You panted together for a few seconds, before he slowly rolled over to lay next to you.

You felt his ejaculate trickle out of you onto the bed, and groaned at the mess, grinning at him.

He looked around and grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed, using it to roughly wipe up you and the linen beneath you. You both chuckled, and he tossed it aside before throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him to lay your head on his chest.

With your head on his bare skin and listening to the sound of his heart beat and the sensation of his breath rise and fall, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. He planted once last kiss to the top of your head before doing the same.

You woke with a start to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight beginning to creep in through the window, neck stiff from the angle you slept at. You felt chilly and looked down to see goosebumps over your bare body. Not just yours, you noted the extra limbs tangled with yours and remembered the situation you were in. You smiled to yourself, knowing that the amazing night was a once off for you both.

Daryl had just started to stir at your movements on the bed, before you heard movements in the other room. A female voice groaning, before stomping quick footsteps and the sound of coughing and liquid splashing the metal sink. Beth had arisen, and was experiencing her first hangover. You almost would have giggled, except you realised you had to get dressed quick and decide how to explain the two of spending the night in a small room with one double bed.

You looked back at Daryl, now fully awake and judging by the expression on his face thinking the same thing you were.

“Well, back to reality” you whispered with a shrug.

He pulled you in for one last embrace, planting a kiss firmly to your lips before whispering back “thanks for last night beautiful”.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon smut #Daryl x reader #Daryl x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader #daryl twd #twd Daryl #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon fic #darly Dixon x you

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fluffy-dixon · 2 months

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You are my sunshine

Judith’s restlessness had become a shared concern. Rick’s grief weighed heavily on everyone, and taking turns caring for Judith was the least we could do to support him. But tonight, despite our best efforts, nothing seemed to soothe her. Multiple bottles, Beth’s sweet songs, and even Maggie’s toys from a recent run with Daryl—all fell short. Even Carol, usually adept at calming anyone, couldn’t ease Judith’s fussiness.

As you balanced Judith on your hip, trying to calm her while dishing up stew, Daryl noticed your struggle. His heart went out to you. With a delicate smile, he rose from his seat at the end of the table and crossed the room. Judith’s eyes widened as she caught sight of him, and she reached out eagerly, tiny hands grasping for him. His smile grew wider at her excitement.

“Here,” Daryl murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Lemme take her so you can’eat.” He cradled Judith in his arms, tucking her gently inside his beloved poncho. Her little head popped out of the V-neck, and he walked away, bouncing her up and down as he headed toward the cell blocks. Her grizzly cries gradually faded into the distance, leaving you with a mix of relief and gratitude.

-*-

As the meal concluded and the dishes were washed, you excused yourself, slipping away toward the cell blocks. The darkness outside unsettled you, though you hesitated to admit it. The route back was a labyrinth of corners and turns, shadows playing tricks on your senses. Your hand instinctively rested on the handle of your knife—a silent reassurance in this uncertain world. Normally, the sounds of wind, creaking buildings, and hushed conversations accompanied your journey. But tonight, a different melody filled the air—a lullaby you’d recognize anywhere.

Daryl.

His voice grew louder as you approached the cell. You lightened your steps, mindful not to disturb Judith if she had already fallen asleep. The moonlight streaming through the top windows guided you. Turning the corner, you almost tiptoed, peeking around the edge.

Daryl stood with his back to you, his silhouette illuminated by a single candle on your bedside table. “You are my sunshine,” he sang softly, swaying from side to side, hips gently rocking. Judith, cocooned in his poncho, emitted a contented gurgle, her eyes heavy with sleep. “My only sunshine,” he continued, the words a soothing balm. “You make me happy when skies are grey.”

He must have sensed your presence, for he paused. From the first turn toward the cell blocks, you had crept closer, stopping just behind him. Peering over his shoulder, you saw Judith’s glistening eyes, her struggle to stay awake. “You’ll never know, Jude,” you whispered, your heart swelling. Her tiny fingers twitched as she surrendered to slumber. “How much we love you.” Tears welled in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. “Please don’t take our sunshine away.”

A single tear rolled down the surface of your cheek as Daryl turned toward you, cradling Judith with the ease. Her tiny head nestled in the crook of his elbow, she slept soundly. His eyes met yours, and a proud smile stretched across his face. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something momentous, but then he hesitated.

Still swaying gently, his gaze shifted back to Judith. And then, in a voice filled with quiet determination, he uttered the words that melted your heart: “M’ready. I wanna be a dad.”

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Edited: 08.03.2024

Please message if you would like to be tagged

@yevmarie @thegeorgiahuntsman @hannah-murdock-505 @charlottewatkinsblog @maggie-atwood @welcumetomyescape

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #norman reedus #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl #daryl x female reader #twd fanfiction #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #fluffy dixon

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fadedmunson · 5 months

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rose blood | r. sanchez

pairings ; rick sanchez x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

summary ; MAJOR SPOILERS ending of 7x05 (unmortricken) when you try to be there for rick's numb state

genre ; insanely sad angst ;( bit of fluff at the end, established relationship (?) no labels on it but you're close

notes ; i've loved this show for quite so i'm quite surprised i haven't written for r&m sooner. use of curse words

wc ; 0.7k sooo pretty short

"morty, you can’t come! evil morty, stay out of my way! gonna kill my nemesis! rick out!"

that's all you manage to hear as you get down to the basement a couple second too late.

you pause right as you opened the door to his lab.

"wait did rick say he was going after prime?" your eyes widen and you began to tense up at the thought of rick no longer thinking with his head.

you pause your thinking when you see two morty's, your morty and one with an eye-patch.

"-oh hey evil morty, didn't think i'd ever see you here." you simpered

his eyes narrowed, "trust me, theres alot i would've done to avoid being here in the first place."

"you’re an asshole." your morty grumbled

"well, yeah. I’m not “good” morty."

he opens a yellow portal to follow rick you assume.

"come or don’t. i don’t care."

you get snapped out of your haze

"actually, fuck this. if he wants to go out there and get himself killed he can be my guest." you quickly turn you head and leave the basement sublevel.

you're not his babysitter, but you're still a little worried for the old man. It's not everyday you finally find the person who killed your daughter and wife.

you quickly head up to his room and try to collect all of your thoughts

you begin pacing around the room as your heart rate picks up

rick found prime, morty and evil morty followed him, is evil morty going to kill prime or rick?, why is evil morty even there?, and is this all a trap?

to distract yourself, you take a nap on his bed cot to just put a pause on everything for now.

sure it's uncomfortable, but it'll do

your quick 30 minute napped turned into three hours and you wake up in a sweaty, thirsty daze.

you walk into the kitchen, greet beth and grab a bottle of water

you walk into the garage in time to see rick and morty just back from their battle

morty smiles and waves at you

"crazy fucking day today haha, jeez."

you gave him a light smile and ruffled his hair

once he was out of the room you got a good look at rick and your smile immediately dissipated.

he look disheveled, covered in a shit-ton of blood (a mixture of his and prime's) a broken nose, black eyes, and scratches littering his body

that didn't phase you, what did was the emotionless look on his face

he turned to you, but it didn't look like he was fully there.

"rick," your voice is tight

you don't even know how to articulate yourself, you've never seen him like this.

"that's a lot of blood." you awkwardly chuckle.

"yeah," his voice is toneless.

you quickly reach out to hold his hand, but the quick flinch withheld you.

"well, what are you gonna do now?"

he just looked up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders.

"i can stay, if you want."

he stays silent

you quickly move to sit on the floor against his counters and you pat the space next to you.

he moves to sit next to you and closes his eyes in the comfortable silence.

you move to rest your head in his chest and kiss the parts of his hand without any blood on them while intertwining them with yours.

"i'll stay right here with you, rick. you don't have to be alone."

you hear his body shake as he tries to quietly but violently cries into your hair.

you turn to hold him in your arms as you let the sobs turn into sniffles and then into stuttering breaths.

he grabs onto you like he'll lose you at any moment, and you kiss his tears away while whispering "we're okay," and "i'm not going anywhere."

"can we stay like this for a little?" he quietly rasped out

your mouth curved into a smile "of course, but after this we should get you cleaned up." you open your eyes to stroke his cheek and lock lips.

#rick and morty x reader #rick sanchez #rick c137 #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x you #unmortricken #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x y/n

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topazy · 1 month

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Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood and violence

Chapter: 6.01

You try your best to pay no mind to those staring while you explore the different streets of Alexandria. Carl doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes Judith in her pram, or if he does, he doesn't let on. The first few weeks in your new home have been hard on everyone. Noah was dead. While on a supply run, he was torn to shreds by walkers. A few others had died, including Jessie’s husband Pete, whom Rick shot for killing Deanna’s husband, which resulted in your group getting the cold shoulder from a lot of people who had lived in Alexandria since the beginning, and they no longer thought your people belonged in their home.

“I’m glad Maggie isn’t making you go anymore.”

Since Carl was no longer going to ‘school' Maggie said you didn’t need to either, on the condition you help out with different chores, one of them being looking after Judith. “Me too,” you say, leaning down and tickling the baby’s cheek. “It means I get to hang out with my favorite girl.”

“Carl, Hope.”

You turn to see Father Gabriel walking over. Maggie had overheard him telling Deanna that your people were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed in the community a few nights prior, so it was surprising he would speak to any of you.

Carl’s tone is sharp. “What?”

“You heard what I told Deanna about your group.”

“What is it you want?” You ask.

“It was about me, not you or your group. I know that now.” Gabriel admits, “I want to help. You tried to reach me back at my church, but I’m ready to learn now.”

“I think you need to tell everybody.”

The older man’s eyes gloss over slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Carl starts to push the pram again, but strops and sighs. “Come by around three. We’ll start with the machete.”

When Gabriel is out of earshot, you say, “That was nice of you.”

He shrugs, “Suppose we gotta keep being nice to each other since we are all going to be living together. Besides, I think he’s still struggling with what happened at his church.”

You smile softly. Carl has always remained kind to others, even when he’s angry. “Yeah, I think you're right.”

—

“Hope, Hope!”

Hearing your name being called, followed by a thumping noise coming from the bathroom door, you turn off the water and go to step out, but slip on the shower, stubbing your toes on it and letting out a string of curse words.

The banging continues. “Hope! Hope! You need to get out of there now!”

Hearing the urgency in Carl’s voice, you grab a towel, and you step behind the door and open it a crack to hear him say, “What’s going on?”

“We are being attacked; you gotta help me keep Judith and Enid safe.”

The fear in his voice causes your heart to start beating faster and faster. Scrambling, you start pulling clothes on, doing your best to ignore the blood coming from your toe. When you open the door, you see Carl looking towards the staircase, directly at the front door, one hand tightly wrapped around his gun. Hearing you flinch while putting shoes on, his gaze jumps between you and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying your best not to whine in pain as you tie the laces on the dirty, worn-out white converse. “Who’s attacking us?”

“I’m not sure. They climbed the wall and just started killing people. Enid saw a man kill Shelly with a machete. They are worse than the dead.”

A large part of your new community, including Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Abraham, had left Alexandria to lead a herd of walkers away, meaning you were lacking fighters to defend your home. At least you still had Carol, Rosita, Maggie...

“God, Maggie!” You hold onto the banister and pull yourself up. “I need to find her.”

“You can’t go out there; it’s not safe.”

“But she’s my sister.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I can’t lose her too! I’ve just lost Beth; I can’t, I can’t.”

Attempting to comfort you, Carl holds you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Maggie is one of the strongest people I know; she will make it. I promise.”

You knew Carl couldn’t promise you that, but you needed to pull it together because right now nothing was more important than keeping Judith safe. You wipe away a fallen tear. “Okay, let’s do this.”

—

When you went downstairs, Enid informed you that the group invading Alexandria was called the Wolves. It wasn’t clear what they actually wanted; some members of the Wolves were looting houses, and the others were tossing petrol bombs and destroying everything they could.

Sitting back to back in the hallway, watching the front and back doors while Enid kept an eye from upstairs, Judith slept blissfully unaware of all the chaos going on in her crib.

Hearing a loud noise, you flinch. “What was that?”

“It sounds like a car horn.”

You chew on your bottom lips, and the blast of the horn would draw any nearby dead to the scene. “This is just going to keep getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No, my dad will be back soon, along with everybody else, and we will all be fine.”

You let out a deep sigh. You didn’t want to be so negative, but the fear of something bad happening to those you loved weighed heavily on you. Slowly, you look away from the back door and face Carl’s head. A few seconds pass before you lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

He blushes, and you return to watching the back door. You’re unsure of how long you will wait for something to happen when Carl jumps to his feet and runs out of the front door.

You catch a glimpse of a wolf chasing Ron. Just as you reach the front door, Carl shoots the man in the leg and aims his gun at him, but the wolf tearfully starts begging for his life and for help with his leg. You watch in horror as Carl hesitantly lowers his weapon, and the wolf viciously grabs the barrel of his gun. You sprint to them and pull the trigger, shooting the man in the head.

You just killed someone.

You offer Carl your hand and help pull him to his feet. “Oh shit, your foot.”

You look down and see blood soaking through your shoe. Gulping down, you say. “It’s fine. Ron, you need to come inside with us now.”

“Come on, man, it’s not safe out here.”

Ron thinks it over as you go back towards the house, with a slight limp in your step, and Ron goes to follow but spots Enid in the doorway and storms off.

—

Carol came by to check on you, Carl, and Judith. She informed you that they had taken one of the men prisoner, but the rest of his group had either run off or been killed. You were even more thankful when she told you your sister was fine.

“Thank God,” you say sincerely.

Carol smiles at you and says, “I’m glad you kids are alright. I’m going to go let Maggie know you are here; she was looking for you.”

Just as she leaves, Carl comes back into the room with a first-aid kit in one hand and a note in the other. “Enid’s gone; she left a note sharing, ‘Just survive somehow.’”

He sits on the edge of the couch. You go to grab the first-aid bag from him, but Carl keeps a tight hold of it. You roll your eyes playfully at him and say, “I can do it myself.”

Carl gives you a doubtful look. “You won’t do it right because you’ll not want it to hurt.”

He had a point.

After you were sure there was no more immediate danger, you removed your shoe and sock to assess the damage you had done coming out of the shower, and to your disgust, one of your toes had bruises and was swollen, and one of the nails had split, causing the bleeding.

Not wanting to seem like a big baby, you bit down on your tongue as Carl cleaned your foot and wrapped your toes together with a bandage.

“You know, I really could have done it myself.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I don’t mind. I remember watching my mom bandage a woman called Jacqui’s foot up after she tripped and fell in camp one day.”

“What happened to Jacqui?” You ask curiously, since you hadn’t heard him mention her before.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She had given up.” Carl shakes his head. “I sometimes think about the camp I stayed in when the outbreak first started and miss it. The day my dad found us was probably the best day of my life.”

“I miss the farm; I miss my daddy.” Feeling your eyes start to tear up again, you pat at Carl’s hand. “But if you hadn’t left that camp, then we never would have met.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Carl moves closer to you, saying, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t thank me; you would have done the same thing.”

Closing your eyes, you try to push the memory of what happened to the back of your mind. You take a sharp intake of breath when you feel Carl press his lips against yours lightly. He pulls away after a few seconds and says, “I…I… shouldn’t have...”

You kiss him back. You remain lip-locked with Carl, your best friend, until someone clears their throat. You jump back, and Carl stands up, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “Hi Maggie,” he says nervously. “I’m just going to go and check on Judith.”

Maggie has a wide grin on her face; she found it amusing how awkward you looked. “I came as soon as Carol told me where you were; she said you'd hurt your foot.”

“I hurt it earlier, but it’s fine now.”

“Really?” She sits down on the edge of the table across from you. “Carol said it was bleeding and bruised.”

“It was, but Carl bandaged it.”

“With his mouth?” She laughs.

“Don’t.”

Maggie tries her best to hide her growing smile with her hand. “Okay, so I gotta ask, do you know how protection works?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Because I remember what it’s like to be a teenager with raging hormones. You are both smart kids, but you’re almost nearly sixteen.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god, Maggie, seriously?”

“Hope, I’m being deadly serious. This is an important subject, and I just need to know how much you learned before.“

You cut her off. “Of course I know how babies are made. Why the sudden interest in my sexual education, aside from trying to embarrass me to death?”

“I’m pregnant.”

#carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x you #teen spirit #teen spirit 6.01 #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

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catt-leya · 1 year

Text

07/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: angsty (reader getting stabbed), blood, handjob, age gap, dirty talk, crying Rick and smutty stuff

💗 This fic is a second part but it's not "necessary" to know the first one. That's why it's called Thoughts and not mainly Dirty Pt.2 (together it would be Dirty Thoughts hihi)💗

request, part I

Before you can even say a word, you notice how he closes up again. You notice him stiffening between your legs before he takes a big step backwards.

Without his body heat, the room is far too cold and you stare at him with huge eyes, "Rick?"

Stripped bare, you sit in front of him and ice chills run down his spine.

Fucking hell, he can't bring himself to do that.

Fucking you is one thing, admittedly completely morally reprehensible, but still explainable. But falling in love with you a completely different.

An old guy who likes to be in a 22 year old pussy is sick, but maybe still understandable.

But loving a 22 year old completely inappropriate.

He shouldn't have done that. He's the older one and should have brought you to your senses and not given in to your first touch.

You would never let a guy like him screw you if you had a choice.

He's sure of that.

And now he's standing here, staring at his cum slowly dripping out of you, knowing he's going to hell for this.

Rick takes another step back and he feels like he hit you.

Like he rammed his fist right into your face.

He bends over and yanks his pants up over his ass like the little room is on fire.

Almost in a panic, he yanks the door open behind him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in the room.

Alone.

The feeling of being abandoned in this way is beyond description.

For a few minutes you are not even able to move an inch.

Stunned, you sit there thinking about what just happened.

Sure, you kind of seduced him, but he wanted you.

Again and again his words flit through your mind and you wonder at what point he had decided to leave you lying there like a piece of used meat.

"Spread your legs for me."

"That's good. Your pussy is so wet and all this just for me."

"I want you to cum on my cock. That's why I stopped."

"Do you realize how deep I am inside you. I'd love to stay right there forever."

Tears well up in your eyes.

It's not like you were expecting a declaration of love or anything like that. You're sure that for Rick, it was nothing more than physical attraction that led him to fuck you in the end.

But you expected a modicum of respect.

At least to be treated with respect to the extent that he doesn't run away from you while his cum is still leaking out of you and you're sitting trembling in front of him.

Slowly, you stand on your feet and reach for your clothes.

You move as if in a trance and as you open the door and blink, looking into the sun, the only evidence that the whole thing with Rick really happened is your sticky legs.

Used and discarded.

That's how you feel and that feeling isn't going away anytime soon, especially since you really like Rick.

Yes, crushing on him.

Two weeks go by in which you hardly get to see Rick.

In which he avoids you at every opportunity.

If anyone around you notices, no one brings it up and you don't say a word about it either.

It's weird because you guys have always been relatively close and now he can't even look at you.

You should be mad and wish him the worst, but every time you catch a glimpse of his dark curls, your heart stops for a brief moment and you have to restrain yourself from running after him.

Even now, you scan the place for him, even though you should already be sitting in the car next to Glenn.

From the second floor window of the jail, Rick watches you walk around the car and get in on the passenger side.

One last time, you lift your head and look straight up at him.

It's as if you've felt his gaze on you.

Hectically, he takes a step back and leans his back against the wall.

With closed eyes he stands there and doesn't get your gorgeous face out of his eyes.

Your face that was still beautiful even when you looked at him with tears in your eyes as he forcibly pulled up his pants.

If he was a good man, he would tell you the truth.

Oh fuck, if he was a good man, he wouldn't have fucked you in the first place.

But he's scared, way too scared of what might happen and some stupid part in his heart might have that little bit of hope that you might want him as much as he wants you.

He's acting ridiculous and he knows it, but he's not a good man.

As planned, you and your people search the small abandoned town you just discovered the other day and find a surprising amount of stuff, considering the town was looted long ago.

You wander from house to house and in a small room overlooking the surrounding forest you stop.

The house is gorgeous and you can imagine how a small family must have lived in this pretty place.

Maybe they are still alive too, who knows.

You run the flat of your hand over the dusty windowsill and stare at the little specks of dust that you swirl into the air, not noticing at all that you are no longer alone in the house.

Your people are a few houses away and you have remained alone in the house, as you assumed, but when you suddenly hear strange voices downstairs, you flinch.

You quickly look around.

You can't get out of the window without breaking every bone in your body, and the only other way out is blocked by the people downstairs.

So it's a choice between broken bones and possible direct death.

You choose the broken bones.

As quietly as you can, you pry open the window and hear a deep male voice from below, "I'll check upstairs."

Now you're getting frantic, you may only have a few seconds before the guy comes up the stairs and looks straight into the room where you're standing.

You shoulder your backpack and there's the guy standing in the room, "Hey, guys. Here's a chick."

He wants to reach for you, but you're already hanging on the other side of the window with one leg.

But before you can swing the other leg to the other side as well, he grabs your lower leg and you stagger your upper body further out the window.

Pure will to survive shoots through your veins as he hisses, "Come on, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

You kick at him, not caring that you'd land head first on the ground, but the guy doesn't let go and pulls a knife from his pants with his free hand.

You scream out as a second guy appears in the room and you kick again.

You're lucky he lets go of you this time, but with his other hand, he tries to grab you again and rams the knife into your thigh.

Blood splatters your face and the guy's hand slips off.

You don't even have the chance to scream, because you already fall.

You are lucky that you landed in a bush and only got a few scratches from the fall.

Limping you get up and hear the men shouting something, you run as fast as you can in the direction of your companions.

The fall has ripped the knife out of your thigh and now the blood is running unhindered down your leg, praying that the guy didn't nick any major artery.

You're not fast, but fast enough to reach your group and you gasp, "Another group...two men...knife."

Arm dragging, the others pull you to your car and all you hear is, "It's going to be okay," before you black out.

Rick is helping with the new posts for the fence when he sees your car.

Even from a distance he can see that something is wrong.

You're speeding toward the fence way too fast.

"Maggie! Open the gate!", Rick's voice echoes across the yard and Maggie, standing closest to the gate, does as he asks.

With screeching tires, the car comes to a stop and the driver gets out, panicked and covered in blood.

Immediately Rick thinks the worst, "What happened? Where is she?"

'She' could have been anyone, but everyone knows who Rick means.

The door to the back seat opens and Rick hears your faint voice, "I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep."

The whole car smells of the iron in your blood and in his whole life he has never had such a panic as the moment he gets to see your pale face.

Immediately he pushes everyone aside and somehow squeezes his big body into the car without hurting you.

"Baby?", pure panic drips from that single word and you smile weakly at him, "Oh, so I have to be stabbed first for you to talk to me again?"

You lazily close your eyes and immediately his rough hand is on your cheek, "Don't fall asleep, yes? You have to stay awake."

"I'm so tired though," you don't even realize how weak your voice is, but Rick is almost cracking up, "Baby, look at me. I know you're tired, but please look at me."

It's exhausting to keep your eyes open, but you oblige, whereupon he reaches under your legs and mutters, "Just look at me, okay? We'll patch you up."

Slowly he lifts you out of the car and you mumble, "Are you going to stay with me this time or are you going to leave me alone again?"

A twinge of guilty conscience presses against his heart and he whispers softly, "I'll never leave you alone again," and he is completely serious.

He expects an answer, but nothing more comes from you and when he gets out of the car with you in his arms, your eyes are closed.

"Baby?" his voice whips up to unimagined heights and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

No.

Oh no.

Please don't.

He has no idea if you're even still breathing.

If he looked closely he would see your chest rising and falling but naked panic and fear pumps through his veins and he runs to jail with you in his arms, "Hershel!"

The older man is on the spot and with just a glance at the nearly motionless figure in Rick's arms he shouts, "Put her on your bed!"

The blood from your leg soaks his shirt and as he places you on his bed, his shirt sticks to him like a second skin.

As Hershel comes rushing into the small room, Rick makes as much room for him as the older man needs without leaving your side.

At the head of the bed, Rick kneels down and brushes a few sweaty strands from your face.

"Is she dead?", Rick's voice breaks and Hershel growls, "Calm down, son. She's just passed out."

Immediately Rick fixes his gaze on your chest and for the first time he doesn't look at it suggestively, but waits for the faint breath that lifts your pretty boobs.

When he sees with his own eyes that you're actually breathing, he rests his forehead against yours, gasping, and murmurs, "Oh my God. You're alive. You're alive and you're with me. You're alive."

He would never have forgiven himself if you died and your last memory of him was that he left you alone and vulnerable.

He never would have forgiven himself if he never told you the truth.

Rick presses his face against your neck so that his nose presses against your pulse and murmurs in a choked voice, "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I promise I'll never leave you again. I love you so much. I love you."

"Rick?", Hershel's voice is soft, "You should tell her that when she regains consciousness."

Face still buried in your neck, he can't hold back the tears and while Hershel saves your life, Rick cries like he never has before.

Groaning softly, you open your eyes and try to adjust to the light conditions.

You're in prison but don't remember how you got here.

Darkly you remember Rick begging you to look at him and the rest is completely gone.

Lazily, you try to turn onto your side, but bump into something.

Confused, you turn your eyes to your hip and blink several times, thinking it's a dream.

Completely drenched in blood, Rick is sitting on the floor next to the bed you're lying in, his head resting on the mattress next to your hip.

His soft snores fill the small room and you wonder how long you've been unconscious.

"Rick?" your voice is raspy, but immediately Rick startles out of his sleep and stares at you, "You're awake."

Groaning, you frown, "Obviously, or I wouldn't have woken you up after all."

Sliding up to you on his knees, he murmurs softly, "Doesn't have to mean anything. You kept calling my name all night, but you were never awake."

Grumbling, you close your eyes and Rick reaches for your hand, "How are you?"

It's strange to see Rick so interested in you, and the way he clings to your hand feels like he's expecting you to get up and just disappear at any second.

"I feel like my leg was put through a meat grinder, but other than that, everything's top notch," you lazily open your eyes and Rick nods, "Okay, I'll get Hershel."

He stands up, but you squeeze his hand so tightly that he stops beside you, "Wait a bit. I want to be...alone with you."

Slowly, he kneels back down beside you and murmurs, "That can wait."

You roll your eyes and mumble, "No, it can't, because I don't know if you'll slip away and I'll never get to see you again."

Under his lashes, he looks at you, "I'm not leaving. Ever again."

Surprised, your eyebrows twitch up, "Oh yeah? Where'd that change of heart come from? Do I have to almost bleed to death for you to realize it was shitty of you to just leave me sitting there after you had your dick up to your balls in me?"

Rick winces like you hit him and in a perverse way it feels good.

It feels good that you can hurt him, too.

He doesn't even dare look you in the face as he whispers, "I'm sorry. There were so many different ways to handle the situation and I chose the asshole version."

Now you have his apology, but you still feel so hollow.

Not expecting anything more, you let go of his hand and nod, "Okay, thanks."

He wanted your young body, you're sure of it, and he got it.

That's all it is, and that's all it will ever be.

"Go get Hershel," at your words he looks up and stares at you like you asked for the moon.

You don't care that he admits to being with you all night.

You don't care that he called you baby at one point, and you don't care that you'll never be anything more than a nice pussy to fuck.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

A few seconds pass with no one stirring until Rick murmurs, "If you think it's disgusting or perverted, tell me and I'll shut up and never speak of it again."

"What?" you have no idea what he's talking about, but he slumps down and whispers, "I love you."

The silence is oppressive.

You're not even breathing anymore.

Apologetically, he looks at you with his pretty blue eyes, "I love you. I know it's sick and I'm sorry. You don't have much choice when it comes to sex and probably between all the others, I'm the best choice because you've known me the longest. I don't know. But I do know that I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. I mean, I've been thinking about fucking you forever. Way before that incident two weeks ago and even then I had a little crush on you. But finally holding you in my arms was…I was cracking up because I realized that I love you. With all my heart. And I felt like a pervert and then I acted like an ass. Then I held you bleeding in my arms and thought you were going to die thinking that I treated you like shit and not knowing how I felt about you, so I'm telling you now. I love you."

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then you lean forward, and Rick flinches as you place your lips on his.

For a brief moment, he stiffens again before leaning in toward you to put more pressure into the kiss.

You can practically taste the fear he had for you on his tongue and move a little closer to him.

Half erect, your torso brushes his and immediately he releases the kiss, "You should rest, baby."

The endearment, makes your cheeks warm and your lips brush his graying beard, "Hmhm."

Even dirty and sweaty, he smells so incredibly good that you press your nose against his neck and your heart does a somersault because he doesn't pull away from you and instead murmurs, "Baby, please."

Your leg screaming in pain completely fades into the background as you start sucking on his neck.

Rick flinches and digs his fingers into the edge of the mattress you're lying on.

Damn, you know exactly what you're doing and you should take it easy, especially since you weren't even conscious a few minutes ago.

As you bite into his neck, he squints his eyes and tries one more time, "Baby-"

"You know, I haven't been completely honest with you either," your voice is muffled and he only manages a soft "Huh?".

You press your mouth to his jaw, "I told you I was attracted to you because you're so manly."

He tilts his head to the side a little so you have better access.

"Were you just trying to boost my ego and actually think I'm a wimp?" his voice has dropped an octave and you suppress a whimper at the harsh tone in it.

How can it be that he doesn't know the impact he has on you?

How easily he can make you drool.

Gently, you lick over the new glowing spot on his neck, then whisper, "No, that was the truth. But it's not the only reason I'm so attracted to you."

You move away from him a bit and blink up at him, "You're good. You're a good man and your heart is in the right place. I don't care how old you are, and in a way, maybe your age turns me on a little bit, if I'm being honest. But I didn't want you just for sex and certainly you weren't one choice out of many. In fact, you have no competition at all because you were all I ever wanted. Always."

You bite your lower lip, "You know, I've had a head over heels crush on you forever. I...well I didn't think you could even like me like that."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head and you smile shyly at him, "Well, what I'm saying is that I love you too, Rick."

Blush stains your cheeks and only makes you more gorgeous.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

Without thinking, he presses his lips to yours again and you moan in surprise into the kiss.

Gently, he straightens up a bit and presses you back into your pillow this way.

His beard scratches over your soft skin and you lift your hands to his cheeks to stroke the stubble.

He runs his tongue over your lower lip, "Should I shave my beard?"

He always had to do it with Lori because she had hated the way the stubble felt on her skin.

After that stopped being an issue, though, he let it grow.

But if you asked him to, he would still get a razor today just so he could keep kissing you.

What he didn't count on, though, is your soft laugh, "It doesn't bother me, Rick."

You tug on his beard, "Besides, it suits you."

Somehow you like the way the stubble feels against your skin.

Especially at the thought of how they would feel between your legs.

Rick's gaze softens and he leans further over you, nudging your leg a little, and you wince.

"Sorry, baby. I'll get Hersehl right now," chuckling, you stop him, "Relax. If I don't move it, it'll be fine."

Skeptically, he looks at you and you slide a hand to his belt, murmuring softly, "If you don't touch me, we'll be fine."

"You don't have to do this," he says, but in his eyes you see once again how much he wants to.

That's the interesting thing about Rick.

He can make his voice sound cold and impassive and look like he's about to rip your head off, but his eyes give him away.

Every time.

Because they're so bright, they also stand out so incredibly and it's playfully easy to read him in them.

Slowly you undo his belt and he doesn't budge an inch as you breathe, "I want to."

Hectically, his gaze slides to your bandaged leg and you purr, "Just relax. Think of it as a reward for taking such good care of me."

"Okay," his voice is soft and uncertain.

Frantically, you try to suppress a grin because it's so unlike him, "Stand up."

Immediately he looks you in the face again, sure you've changed your mind and want him to go get Hershel after all, but you whisper hoarsely, "If you stand, I can get to your cock better lying down."

He swallows a whimper.

When did he become such a wimp?

But your wide eyes and soft hand stroking his lower belly make him tremble and he nods.

With soft knees he straightens up to his full height and immediately you pull his pants down enough to get at his cock.

This innocent touch makes him moan harshly and he clings to the bed frame of the bunk bed.

Your eyes are glued to his upper arms, where his biceps now bulge strongly, and you whisper, "Say it again."

Rick looks first to your hand around his cock and then back to your face, "I love you."

You stroke his hardening cock and he moans, "Oh God, I love you so much."

He thrusts his hips at you and you just can't take your eyes off his face, not when he opens his blue eyes and looks at you like you're everything to him.

Maybe you even are, "I love you so much."

When he fucked you, you were so distracted by your pulsing pussy that you barely paid attention to how gorgeous Rick looks as his whole body shakes and he squints his eyes as if by willpower alone he won't manage to cum in your hand right now.

How could he behave at you any other way when you're lying in front of him, practically begging to jerk him off?

You try to straighten up a bit so you can breathe a kiss on the tip of his cock, and the way he flinches at the brief contact of your lips is enough amends for the stinging pain that emanates from your leg as you move.

Briefly, you think about what would happen if Rick were too loud.

If someone came into the small cell while you lay flat on the bed and Rick towered over you, fucking your hand.

The thought makes you whimper softly, "Fuck me."

As you expected, he shakes his head, "No, baby. You wanted my cock so jerk me off and I'll fuck you as soon as I can push your legs apart again."

Your grip tightens and you whimper softly, "Please don't talk like that."

Irritated, he frowns and when he sees you slide your free hand between your legs, he grunts, "It turns you on, right?"

Hesitantly, you nod and he grins at you, "Then keep your hands off yourself, baby."

Your hand freezes in mid-motion and Rick continues to fuck your hand, "Good girl. Imagine all the things I'm going to do to you because you're finally mine."

You moan softly, "Rick, please..."

"Shhhh, just jerk me off, baby," he teases you and you know it.

His cock is hard and swollen in your small hand and every time you graze his tip it twitches in your hand.

His knuckles stand out white and he moans harshly, "Where do you want it?"

Greedily you open your mouth and he growls, "Shit you're dirty."

He pushes your hand aside and aims for your wide open mouth as he rubs his shaft and he rests his forehead against his forearm to look down at you as he cums.

Some of his cum hits your mouth and the rest runs down your cheek.

You swallow what he gives you and gather up the rest from your cheek to put your finger in your mouth and suck his cum from your finger.

With his mouth open, he stares down at you.

You are perfect.

In every way, shape, and form.

With a 'plop' you pull your finger on your mouth as you hear Hershel's voice from outside, "Are you done?"

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @starsaroundmyscxrss @starkstiless @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #request #andrew lincoln #smutty may 2023

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ashtheketchum · 2 months

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A new family PART 3

A/N: Welcome to the third part! I'm pleased that the first two parts were so well received, but I still have to say something. The reader has NO reason to be mad at Daryl! (Even if she still is a little bit) (D/N) said herself that Daryl never yelled at her, it was all because of Merle! Accordingly, the reader can't even be mad at Daryl. (Pic from Pinterest!)

Part 1 / Part 2 here!

Taglist: @clairealeehelsing @louisianalady

Warnings: Angst, a bit of insults

Masterlist!

______________________________

PoV (Y/N):

The next day we all got ready to be yelled by Daryl. He was gone all night, probably hunting something and spending his time alone, in the forest. We were never really worried about him because he was often gone for several days, and there weren't that many walkers around here. Early in the morning, Carol and I washed the clothes of Rick and the others who were on the run yesterday.

When we were done, I went to my tent, where (D/N) was still sleeping. I gently shook her shoulder to wake her up. "Honey, wake up… we have to wash you and then study." I murmured softly. (D/N) just grumbled quietly before yawning loudly and stretching. Then she opened her eyes, looked at me and smiled tiredly. "Good morning, Mom…" She murmured quietly.

While I got (Y/N) ready by giving her clean clothes and her toothbrush, I continued to look around for Daryl. Thinking about Daryl, I had to ask my daughter an important question. "(D/N), honey… I have to ask you something important." I started slowly. (D/N) looked at me with her honest eyes and nodded quickly. "Why are you suddenly so nice to Daryl? He is mean to you and also to me…"

(D/N) hesitated briefly. She fidgeted with her shirt and looked at the ground. Although she knew that she could always talk to me, it probably made her uncomfortable. "Mom… I want a dad… a great dad… a-and you deserve someone who loves you and who you love too… and I thought maybe Daryl would be perfect for that…" She then admitted quietly. Her words shocked me, but I also felt a slight blush on my face. I never thought my daughter would want to set me up with someone. And especially not with Daryl. "Mom… can't Daryl be my new dad…?" She then asked quietly. Her words broke my heart and I sighed softly. As sorry as I was, I shook my head slightly.

"No, darling… Daryl can't be your new dad…" I then said quietly. Before (D/N) could ask why Daryl couldn't be her new father, I continued. "Your dad was… a bad person… he scared me so much and hurt you a lot too…" I explained to her. "B-but Daryl doesn't have to be like dad-!" (D/N) intervened immediately. ,, I know. “Daryl doesn’t have to be like Dad… but I’m still scared…” I pulled (D/N) into a loving hug while holding back my tears. Her father had scared me too much that he would never have allowed me to talk to several men.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through this world without a dad…" I murmured quietly. I slightly felt (D/N) shake her head to show me that it wasn't my fault. She just wanted me to be happy, but I just couldn't yet. "You can spend time with Daryl… but only if Merle isn't there, okay?" "Yes, Mom…" She said and nodded slightly. I didn't like it, but if she wasn't afraid of Daryl, nothing would happen to her.

But I still had a question on the tip of my tongue. "But why exactly Daryl…? Why not Shane, for example, or Tdog… or Glenn?” I then asked quietly. Even though I didn't want anything from the other men, I still wanted to know why she took Daryl. "Because Daryl is always looking at you… when you're near him he looks at you… and when he argues with you he turns red…" She then explained quietly. I thought it was cute that these signs were enough for her to think that someone loved me. I shook my head slightly, giggling, but didn't say anything. Daryl always looked at us all suspiciously, but he didn't leave anyone out, especially the new ones. And that he blushes when we argue? The anger just increases within you.

"Okay… thank you for being honest…" I gently kissed her forehead before I stood up and we moved to the others so she could do her chores.

The morning dawned and by now we were all wondering where Daryl was. But just as we were about to send a small group out to look for him, he came back. Shane, Rick, Dale and Tdog ran into the woods because they heard Carl screaming. Between some bushes they found a walker nibbling on a deer. (D/N) and I stayed further back, with Carol and Sophia. "Do you think Daryl was chasing the walker?" I asked Carol quietly, but she just shrugged.

Before we could even exchange another word, we heard Daryl cursing and insulting loudly. Carol and I immediately covered our children's ears before we saw Daryl run into camp. "Merle, where are you!? Get your ass over here, we have to go hunting again!” Daryl then shouted loudly through the camp. So they hadn't told him yet...

Sighing, I looked at Rick, who slowly walked over to Daryl to explain the situation to him. When he finished explaining, Daryl remained silent for a moment. He looked around and rubbed his face with his hand. I could have sworn I saw a few tears in his eyes. But before anyone could calm him down, Daryl threw his captured squirrels at Rick before pulling out a knife. “You bastard!” Daryl shouted before being pushed away by Shane. (D/N) immediately hid her face in my shoulder so she didn't have to see it.

She was scared, and really scared. She had never seen Daryl so angry that he would attack other people with a knife. Her entire body was shaking and I bit my tongue hard. Daryl had now freed himself from Shane and he wanted to attack Rick again, but I got up and intervened. "Daryl, stop!" I shouted at him. "(Y/N), get away from him-!" I interrupted Shane before he even got too close to me.

I looked Daryl in the eyes with a stern expression, still seeing the anger in his eyes. "Attacking someone won't bring back your arrogant brother either! If everyone left him behind, there was a reason!” "You have nothing to say to me, you stupid-!" Before Daryl could even say an insult, (D/N) kicked his leg. Startled, I looked down at my little girl as she then stood protectively in front of me and spread her arms. "Stop it, Daryl! Mom has nothing to do with it, she just wants to help!”

Everyone stayed silent for a moment before Daryl threw his knife into the ground and walked away from us. (D/N) still looked at him angrily, but it was more like a pout. My body relaxed slightly and I gently stroked her head, but my eyes never left Daryl.

Next Chapter! ->->->

#daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl twd #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 2 years

Text

Stranger, Danger

Pairings: Rick Grimes x teen!reader (platonic)

Imagine: You have been alone for a while now, until you meet Rick

Warnings: Walkers, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of corpses, mention of dying parents, mention of death, dehydration, mention of not having eaten anything in a few days, mention of walkers eating people, mention of killing, anyone who has seen twd knows what’s in it so probably knows some stuff that might be in this, idk what else, pls write if you find something

A/N So Rick I love him with all my heart and nothing will change that so if you want to request anything with him or some other TWD character pls do <3

And yes this is kinda shitty and not proofread bc I hate proofreading, gif isn’t mine either found it somewhere on google, anyway I hope you all have a great day :)

Walking. It was all you had done your entire life. Well at least it felt like that. Your feet were sore and your boots and socks felt like they had drowned in water. Your hair stuck to your head by sweat and your backpack was held together with a piece of rope. You didn’t have any water left and no food. There were no berries in the forest you were currently in and you felt like dying of exhaustion on the spot you stood at.

It had been this way for a while. You had once been tempted to end it all. But you didn’t know if you were too much of a coward or if you were driven by your parents. At least you felt like a coward, you didn’t end it all to meet your parents again, like they told you to do if they ever died. But maybe you had twisted their words. Maybe that hadn’t been what they said. No. They hadn’t. It had been such a long time ago that you didn’t remember their voices anymore. Nor did you remember what they said. You had just desperately clung to some sentence you once heard from someone. Until you thought your parents were the ones who said it. But they didn’t. You knew that deep inside. Because they were the only ones you could ever trust with your life. Not even the group the three of you had once been in.

The first group had been horrible and it didn’t take long for your little family to leave. The next group died except for your family. The only thing you remembered from that time was that you felt like you had cheated death. You had in some kind of way, your parents too. But death always collects what’s theirs. Don’t they?

At least death had collected your parents. Why it spared you, you’d never know but that’s how it is. And will continue to be. You always got spared. All the groups you've ever been in, you’d been the only survivor. The time a herd came upon you when you accidentally wandered out alone in the woods. The time your parents died. The walkers had ripped the meat that were once your parents' dead corpses away. Just before that a group of men had killed your parents, shot them in the stomach until they bled out to death. They hadn’t even cared to stick something in their heads so that they wouldn’t turn. No, the group of men had left that for you to do. You eventually did, not wanting them to turn. But you had still stayed with the dead corpses not willing yourself to leave as warm tears ran down your cheeks. Silent sobs racking through your body. The herd had come a while later. But somehow you got away. You cheated death once more.

Until now. You genuinely thought you’d die. The man in front of you still held the gun pointed straight at your face. You were frozen. It was never good to run when someone held a gun pointed your way. “Maybe this was it” you thought “maybe you’d finally meet your parents again”. But you had no such luck. You’d cheated death once more.

It was strange. Just moments before he talked to you in a low, calm and dangerous voice, telling you to slowly turn around. But when you did so, he’d lowered his gun. Was he really the only person you’d ever met that wasn’t able to kill a child. Well no that’d be a lie, you had met a man before, named Negan, who helped you once, he helped you cheat death. Exactly like this man in front of you did.

Rick, who had just gone out on a run for supplies, had trekked into the forest with Daryl not far behind. They were supposed to see if they could find any new places to scavenge, to see if they could find anything that was edible. Instead Rick found himself tracking a human. They hadn’t had anyone coming near Alexandria for a while now and after the Wolves they needed to be careful. However Rick still found himself lowering his gun after you’d turned around. You didn’t even look scared. You just looked tired. Like nothing didn’t really mattered anymore. Like giving up. He got reminded of his son, Carl. Rick couldn’t shoot you, not when you reminded him of Carl. You were just a teenager alone in the world, with probably nothing left. He couldn’t just leave you here not like this, so he offered you some food, even though they were short of it.

You looked at him like he was crazy. You sure as hell weren’t going to take food offered to you by someone who just moments before pointed a gun your way. Hadn’t he ever heard of “stranger danger”. It was something every kid learned, to not trust strangers. That was more than accurate in the world you all now lived in. So instead of taking the food your eyes were glued on him. You didn’t move an inch, afraid he was going to shoot you. He didn’t. He never would.

Rick liked to think that he was a great judge of character. So for starters he knew you were smart. Not taking food from a stranger was smart, you could never know if someone had poisoned it or what they’d done to it. The second thing he noticed was how even if you were tired you still watched your surroundings with great care. Every snap from a stick breaking away from a tree because of the wind, or the growls that came nearer. You were hyper aware of your surroundings. You’d even known he came before he even did, as you were hiding from him. However Rick had been as good of a tracker as you and found you either way. He watched how the grip of your knife tightened as the walkers came closer, now visible to both you and him. Your stares on each other faltered as the walkers came even closer.

You both stared for a moment before coming to a silent agreement. Take out the walkers and continue after. None of you wanted to die that day, so taking away the most danger at the moment was the best option.

The two of you ran over to the six walkers and took them out one by one. Except for the last one, which somehow got advantage of Rick as he fell down, the Walker landing on top of him. You hesitated for a moment before you’d went over with your knife, plunging it straight into the head of the Walker, making its movement stop. Saving Rick.

After that Rick offered you food once more and this time you accepted it, after all the two of you had just killed a group of walkers together, there was nothing wrong with taking the food he offered now. Because it did take a great deal of trust to kill something, trust was needed to succeed, to trust the other to help when needed. Trust the other to take out the once you can’t, trust them to not leave you to do all the work.

As you sat and ate a sandwich (Rick doing the same), you couldn’t help but to savor the taste. It had been far too long since you ate something, especially a sandwich, you’d mostly eaten berries, blueberries for the most part. To eat a sandwich right now was like you came to heaven on a whole new level.

Rick noticed that you ate like you’d been starved for days, which he guessed you probably were. So he decided to start with his three famous questions.

“How many walkers have you killed” he needed to know that you could kill walkers, however he guessed what the answer would be. Being a teenager out in the woods, and alone for that matter, you couldn’t have avoided walkers all this time, no one could.

“S’rry what” you hadn’t completely heard what he said being to engrossed in eating your sandwich. “How many walkers have you killed” Rick repeated the question once more as he stared at you.

Still a bit weary of him you shrugged at first. You might have given him a bit of trust, but you could never be too careful, he was a stranger after all. “I don’t know, how should I know, didn’t know I was s’posed to count, it’s not like it matters really, but if you want to know, I guess a lot would work as an answer, must be more than hundred at least, I mean I’ve been alone for a hike now” you hadn’t meant to day the last part, but it came out anyway and you could do nothing but to regret your words. You knew full well you should have kept quiet.

Rick nodded once at your answer before he continued with his questions. “How many people have you killed” he saw you tense at the question. By that he knew your answer. You’d killed a lot.

“A lot, but they deserved it”

“Why?”

You still didn’t look his way. “The first ones killed my parents, the others either tried to kill me, or do other things to me, saved a couple of humans too from other humans” Rick gave you a look at the last part. “Don’t worry I knew which ones were good people”

“How would you like it if you came back with me, to my place, we have walls, food” food might have been a lie at the moment but he needed you to come with him, he couldn’t leave you here. “Water, nice people, you would be able to leave whenever you want to, we even have other people your age, we can offer you safety and a place to call home” you were quiet for too long in Rick’s eyes so he continued. “What do you say?”

“Do you have comic books?” Rick chuckled at this and nodded. “Fine, but if I don’t get a single Marvel comic when I get there I’m leaving” you stretched out your hand towards him wanting to make a deal of it. The man in front of you took it and while the two of you shook hands you couldn’t help but to ask him a question.

“Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger” Rick chuckled at your words, of course he’d heard of it. But to have it said to him right now, after the two of you just fought off walkers, after you saved his life. After he asked you to join them and after you had a meal together. Even after you agreed to go with him. It was funny to him, and Rick sure as hell could use a bit of fun about now. Definitely after the last several shity days.

#x reader #x teen #x teen!reader #x you #twd x reader #twd x teen!reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x teen #rick grimes x teen!reader #rick grimes x teen #rick grimes x reader #twd fic #Rick grimes fic #the walking dead fic

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midnightsxblue · 4 days

Text

DON’T BE SORRY

carl grimes x reader

tags: angst, fluff.

masterlist here!

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM, DEATH

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You used to feel so alone, so empty. Like nothing could fill the pit in your heart where you stored the love from your family. They were everything to you, losing them made you feel endless pain that would never go away. You couldn’t cope with it all, you only felt pure affliction.

The one way you knew how to cope was something you had to hide, at least you felt that way. You didn’t know what to do without your family, you’d felt like somehow it was all your fault. Maybe you could’ve done something, be more useful and actually save them. Maybe it wasn’t helpful to take it out on yourself instead of putting the anger towards what actually killed your family, the walkers. You couldn’t help it though. You truly felt you killed your family.

It occurred to you that maybe the last thing you’d need in this world was to inflict more pain on yourself but it had somehow made you feel better, like you were getting what you deserved. You could get by a while without hurting yourself but occasionally situations would happen that reminded you of everything.

There was one time in particular that really got to you. You were tracking a deer for a while, granted tracking wasn’t your best strong suit but you thought you’d give it a shot. You followed it for hours. You successfully shot it and it ran but it didn’t get far. When you got to it, it was taken down by a swarm of walkers. It just looked too much like when the same thing happened to your family. You burst into tears and ran.

It was a common thing for this to happen but one day, someone saved you from the swarm. He came in with a couple others and they took them down for you and invited you back to their settlement. You almost wanted to say no. You didn’t want to risk caring for more people, losing them and then pay the price for that loss.

The boy who saved you was named Carl, he was your age and he quickly became your best friend, eventually your boyfriend. He managed to make you feel okay about everything. He told you how it wasn’t your fault, that you shouldn’t blame yourself for the death of your family. He was so gentle with the way he treated and loved you. There’s nothing he loved more than gently kissing around your body but you made it a point to him to not kiss your arms, you tended to pull away.

You didn’t want him to know, you were worried of what he’d think of you. He never gave you a reason to believe he’d be angry at you or anything like that but you were still nervous about it. He never wanted to pry as to why you didn’t want him kissing your arms because he respected you enough to not mention it unless you did.

You never planned on telling him, but you didn’t want him to find out either. Unfortunately, when he did find out, it wasn’t on your own terms.

“Hey wake up.” Carl pokes at you while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed (you guys had nightly sleepovers.) You pry your eyes open and look up at him, sort of giving him a mean look for waking you up. “Cranky.” He says, looking down at you with a cute little smile. “Yeah cranky. I’m so sleepy.” You sit up and yawn while he walks around the room. “We have to go check the snares my dad put out yesterday. He’s hoping for rabbits.” Carl explains, grabbing clothes from your closet and tossing them at you.

“Rabbits? For what?” You stand up slowly, stretching out your limbs. “Uhh I think Carol wants to make some stew. I dunno.” He replies briefly. You finish up changing and arm yourself with a handgun as well as a large knife. You both head out to go check the snares. The first two you checked were empty, which made sense since Rick set them out late last night in clearer areas.

When you get to the last snare, the both of you were pleased to find out that it caught a larger rabbit. You unlatch it and pack it away. “Carol’s gonna be excited. I know she’s been wanting to make stew for a while-” You were cut off by the sound of guttural screams coming from somewhere deep in the forest. There was no doubt you’d follow them to help whoever it was.

You and Carl ran through the woods, following the screams with your guns in hand. The screams get louder and louder as you approach and you pray that you’ll be able to save them. When you reach them, it was too late. The man was already on the floor, being ripped to shreds by the undead. Carl was with you, but somehow that didn’t seem to help this time. You remember your family, you couldn’t save this man just like you couldn’t save them. You run off back home, not even taking the walkers out, not waiting for Carl.

You go home in tears, you walk up the stairs not acknowledging anyone else who lived in the house because you simply couldn’t look at anyone. You change your clothes to try and distract from the pain of it all and blink your tears away. You stand for a moment trying to navigate what exactly to do next but your mind strays to one solution. You walk over to your dresser and dig to the bottom where you kept a little box. The little box where you kept razors. Every time Carl looked for clothes for you, you were worried he’d find it. He never did.

You grab the box and contemplate for a moment. Did you want to do this? It’s been a while since you last indulged but something about this time was different. You head over to the bathroom and shut the door. You breathe heavily, thinking about the man. His life ended because you didn’t run fast enough. Your mind was made up.

You sit on the edge of the tub and set the box of razors on the toilet lid. You open it and take one out, looking at it while wiping your tears away. You slide your sleeve down a little and stare at the scars from past times you’d done this before. You go for it, but are interrupted by the sound of voices downstairs. You listen for a moment before putting the blade back up to your arm. Before you know it, Carl bursts into the bathroom.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry-” He looks at you and the blade in your hands as you scramble to put it away and hide the box. “N-no I’m sorry I shouldn’t be…” Your voice trails off as you try to find the words to explain yourself. “Don’t be sorry.” He walks closer to you and kneels so he can see you better. He takes off his hat and places it on the counter. He rests his hands on your knees as he looks at you with pure love.

“Is that why you don’t like the kisses?” He lifts his hand up to wipe the tears from your face. He holds your cheek delicately and you nod into his hand. More tears roll down your face and he leans in closer to kiss them away. “They told me you were upset.” He says, referring to the Alexandrians you lived with. “It was the man, wasn’t it?” He holds your hands, gripping them tightly. You nod once more. He pulls your hand up to kiss them. “That’s not your fault. None of this is your fault okay? I promise you, I’d never lie to you.” He murmurs, kissing your hands between each sentence. You knew he was being honest, he always was. Carl never beat around the bush, but he was never brutally honest, he was always soft with you.

“Can I…?” He gestures to your arms and looks to you for approval. You look at him and hesitate but nod, sniffling a bit. He rolls your sleeve down slowly and he looks at you before leaning down to place soft kisses over your scars. Didn’t leave a single one un-kissed. He pulled the sleeve down your other arm and repeats the process. Every single scar was kissed. He always knew how to make you feel loved. He looks at you and studies your face like he’s done thousands of times before. He leans up to kiss your nose, then your forehead and then your cheek.

Carl leans forward and hugs you tightly. He sits there and tells you how much he loves you over and over.

Now, your heart feels fuller than ever.

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a/n: i hope i did this well, i really like it even though i’ve never written a fic like this before. it took me a while to get out bc i really did my research for it to make it best i could. i also had a ton of school stuff to deal with. thank you anon for the request <3 my inbox is nowww empty so if you guys want plsss send some requests.

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #tw s3lf harm

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twigg96 · 8 months

Note

Reader jealous of Carol plz !

👀 ohhh I love this idea @matilda4eve !!! I hope you like this fic!

Two Can Play That Game

Era: the Prison

POV: You

Warnings: Angst, Arguments, Yelling, Misunderstandings, Swearing, Fear of Abandonment, insecurity in relationships, resolving of issues

Summary: After Sophia’s death Daryl and Carol become nearly inseparable. They rely on each other for almost everything. And while you try your damnedest to make sense of it all, as their relationship progresses you begin to feel more and more insecure until you can’t hold it in anymore.

Ever since the farm when little Sophia came stumbling out of the barn like tomb, Daryl and Carol had been inseparable. She came to him for nearly everything. And he went to her for comfort. It was a bond none of the others including yourself could ever hope to understand. A mother ripped away from her daughter much to early. And a man willing to step in to the girl’s father’s shoes for a brief moment out of sheer kindness of the heart. Over time their relationship evolved past formality. Into friendship and the love that only two best friends could share.

But you simply couldn’t understand it. You tried. After Sophia you let the two have their space. After the farm you tried not to mind the nicknames Carol gave Daryl. When you first arrived at the prison you told yourself that when Daryl and Carol went on runs together it was better for the group. That even though Daryl and you made a good team you often got distracted and it made sense that he wanted to go with her. You did your damned best to ignore the psycho muttering of Rick about love lost and turned to Hershel for guidance who only gave you vague religious advice instead of the relationship advice you were hoping for. You even gave the two grace for how clingy they became once Daryl found Carol in the closet after thinking she was dead after the herd broke through the prison. When Merle came back you tried to ignore his vague but infuriatingly observant comments about the pair. You honestly tried not to spark fights if you could avoid them but sometimes the fire had already been lit and it was hard to avoid catching the whole thing aflame.

And so you sat in the courtyard of the prison. Taking a long drag of your cigarette you tried to calm yourself as you watched Daryl sharpen his arrows, Carol draped over his shoulder musing with his hair in such a way that would have been considered intimate had you and Daryl not been in a relationship since before the turn. And so you did what you did best. You tried to ignore it. But that white hot jealousy rose when Carol kissed Daryl’s temple and then his cheek a little too close to his lips. And oh… oh you had your suspicions about the kissing for a while. You had walked in on the two in what could be considered compromising positions before but they always explained it away. She was just leaning down to get something… He needed to go back and say good night… it made you feel so insecure and heartbroken. Standing in a huff you threw the butt of your cigarette to the ground and stomped it out ignoring the forlorn look Daryl gave you.

“I’m goin’ out.” You growled, stomping towards the gate. “W-What?” Daryl stammered standing up trying to follow but the glare you sent him instantly grounded him. “I said im goin’ out. I need a damned walk.” Daryl blinked at you cocking a brow. “Well. Let me get my gear and-“ He muttered pointing back to the prison with his thumb, but you were well past your breaking point. Rounding at him shook your head. “NO!” You screamed, storming up to face him, tears brimming your eyes even when you desperately wanted to seem strong. “Stay the hell here. Keep-“ you cut yourself off shaking your head to keep from outwardly sobbing. Daryl’s face fell, confusion and worry washing over him as he reached out to touch you, but for the first time in your relationship you pushed him away, turning away. “Like I said. I need a god damned walk.” You whispered. Daryl was glaring at you now. You were seriously starting to piss him off. “Well let me just come with ya!” He yelled walking along behind you.

Once again you shook your head, looking around you pointed to Merle. “Your brother promised me we’d go out today. So let’s go Merle!” You called motioning for Merle to follow. The elder Dixon turned from his place on the fence, covered in sweat, to see the commotion. Cocking a brow he walked over eyeing the situation warily. “What’s goin’ on?” He asked Daryl more than you, but you still answered. “You said you’d go out with me later. So let’s go. I’m ready. Let’s take a walk.” You huffed pacing anxiously in front of the gate. Merle was a little taken aback glancing from you to Daryl. He had said he would take you out for a good time… but he didn’t mean for a walk. He just wanted to piss Daryl off a little. But when he caught Carol standing farther up the hill the pieces started to click into place. Sighing deeply he let his face rest into his signature sleazy grin. “Alright, sugar. Where are we headed?” He asked, rounding you, wrapping his good arm around your waist, pulling you close to his sweaty form. Walking with you out the gates with only his knife arm and the weapons you had on you to keep you safe.

Once out of sight you peeled away from Merle tearing into every Walker in a 30 foot radius whether you had to or not. Merle stayed quiet for the most part. Whether it was out of curiosity or courtesy you had no idea. He simply puffed at a cigarette and watched you vigilantly from his seat on an old rotted stump. Once in a while he’d call out if you were going to be flanked. But for the most part he let you do what you had to. That is until the small herd moved in. You would have been fine. At least that’s what you told yourself. If you hadn’t used most of your energy stabbing the first five walkers more than they needed you could have taken them all down. But Merle’s panicked look made you second guess. Before you could register what was happening you were on your back, a strong hand having gripped the back of your shirt and yanked you out of danger. 6 shots was all it took to take them down but it also was all you had in your chamber. And you knew with the echoing of the shots through the air, that it wasn’t only the dead that would soon come looking for you both.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You screamed, scrambling to your feet. “Me?!” Merle blinked looking at you completely appalled. “Sugar,” he growled stepping up to you, grabbing your wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out here tryin’ ta get yerself killed?! Because that’s what I jest witnessed!” He yelled. You sneered at him fighting the sobs and the burning urge to scream at the top of your lungs. Maybe if you had more bullets you’d had attempted it. Maybe if you knew Daryl wasn’t tearing through the woods searching for you both you would have been more willing. But you didn’t want to be found. Not yet. And so you tore away from Merle with a small huff. “Just… fuck off.” You mumbled bending over to grab the knife you dropped. “Oh no…” Merle uttered through a strained laugh. “No. You don’t get to get pissed off at me for saving you, little one. That’s not how this works.” He hissed, grabbing you by the shoulder and pushing you up against a tree. “Yer gonna tell me what the hell is going on here because I feel like I’ve been extremely flexible with you. I’ve went along with your self destructive plan so far so the least I need is an explanation!” He growled.

Suddenly the tears you held back over the months, the feelings of abandonment and shame came crashing to the surface. Like a dam that was bound to break you let yourself sob, covering your face with filthy hands cried, heaving ugly sobs. Merle stared at you, his eyes wide as he pulled you close, rubbing your back, letting you rant about these messed up feelings you were having. You questioned yourself, questioned your sanity, and finally Daryl. You could feel Merle tense at your admission. And even though you backtracked and tried to make him see it like you did. Just a miscommunication, Merle still remained just as pissed. “Now you listen to me.” He whispered, pulling away slightly. “I’ve never known Daryl ta be a man ta ever mess around on anyone he’s been with… not that he’s ever been with many people before you but that doesn’t matter. He was normally the one ta be made a fool of. If Daryl is messing around…” he stayed silent for a moment but the anger and disappointment shone in eyes. “Well. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He whispered. Kissing the top of your head he sighed when a branch broke to your right a large heard coming in. “Looks like we’re camping out tonight, sugar.” He teased, winking at you. Rolling your eyes you sighed walking deeper into the forest to find a place to bunk down for the night.

With the early morning light came the migration of the walkers. And as much as you and Merle enjoyed each other’s company you had to admit the little inlet of the large oak tree you both scrambled under for the night was less than comfortable. Crawling out first you accessed the area. No walkers you could see… nodding to Merle you both wiggled out, covered in mud and wood chips. It wasn’t a long walk back to the prison. Only an hour or two but the way you two talked made it feel like it only was a second.

Daryl was waiting for you at the gates, pacing inside like a tiger in a cage made much too small for him. You glanced to Merle, his arm firmly around your shoulders. As the gates swung open you felt him squeeze you gently. “Remember what I said. Talk to him. If yer gonna fight. Let it happen. Figure out what’s goin’ on and quit dancing around this shit.” He whispered into your hair. Letting his arm slide from your shoulders he let you go. “See ya inside.” He muttered, giving Daryl a sly wave as he passed by his brother. “The fuck was that all about?!” Daryl growled, watching Merle slink up the hill. “Daryl… we need to talk.” You whispered, looking to the ground shamefully. “Ya fuckin’ think?!” Daryl hissed practically seething. “Let’s go inside and then-“

“No!” Daryl screamed, grasping your shoulders. “Ya wanted to take a fuckin’ walk so god damned bad let’s take a damned walk!” He yelled, twisting you around and shoving you back into the dark forest.

Stumbling tiredly through the thicket you grasped helplessly at Daryl’s wrist as he held you firmly by the back of the neck. “Daryl…” you pleaded, tears staining your dirty cheeks. “Daryl, please stop hurting me.” With a shove you fell to your knees to the forest floor. Your boyfriend pacing the ground around you grasping fists full of his own hair. “Are you kidding me?” He bit out. It wasn't until then that you got a good look at him. He looked disheveled and exhausted, big black circles under his blue eyes highlighted them making them seem brighter than life. “Do you know how fucking God damned worried I was last night?” He breathed, still pacing. “Do you have any idea how panicked I was when I heard those shots?!” He yelled out stopping to spin on his heel glaring directly at you. “I searched all god damn night fer you and Merle! And then ya jest waltz back inta camp…” Daryl stops covering his face letting out a low growl as you venture standing up again. “Like… nothing happened. Jest like Carol said ya would.” He muttered, seeming to relax a little at the thought of the older woman.

But for you… hearing her name was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “God!” You huffed, throwing your arms up in the air exaggeratedly. “Can we go one god damned conversation with out talking about Carol!” You screamed. Daryl blinked cocking a brow at you looking at you like you grew a second head. “Wha-“ he started but the cap had already flown off. The dam was broken. And you were ready to break along with it. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You screamed at the top of your lungs holding your face, trying to muffle some of the sounds before turning and kicking the nearest rock to you, sending it over the ravine. “You two are always together! I can barely get a word in edgewise when she’s with you!” You cry holding your middle as sobs wreck your core. “And I have tried, Daryl! I have desperately tried to make sense of it all. I have given you both space! I have tried to get used to the pet names!” You sobbed. “Ya think I like it when-“ Daryl tried to interject, but you shook your head, holding a hand up to cut him off. “Daryl I’m not a fucking moron!” You whined wiping tears away. “I know…” your sobs stopped you. “I saw you both. The way you look at her. The way she kisses on you…” you sobbed, your knees buckled and so you hugged them close to your chest.

Daryl was silent for a minute. Only the sound of the forest surrounded you. As the crunching of leaves grew near then distant you were sure that Daryl was going to abandon you. Leave you out in the forest and return to her. But as a thump came behind you of a fallen Walker followed by the leaves rustling as Daryl settled behind you, you felt like you could finally breathe. His arms wrapped firmly around your middle gently. You couldn’t help but to lean back into his chest and let him hold you tight. Feeling Daryl’s breath on the back of your neck and his stubble rubbing against the bare skin of your shoulder as he laid his head there you felt yourself start to ground into this reality.

“It’s not like that.” He whispered softly into your ear after a long moment. Interlacing your fingers with his he sighed. “Car-“ he muttered, cutting himself off to reword. “Darlin’. What we have is so different from what Carol and I have. I love you. I can’t lie to you and say I don’t love her. I do. But it’s different. I…” he sighed, laying his head on your shoulder. “I love her like a sister. I think? Maybe like a best friend. But you.” He muttered clambering around you to sit in front of you, he took your cheeks in his hands, brushing the tears from your eyes. “I love you like my partner. Like we’re married. Like I could never live without you.”

He whispered, kissing your forehead lovingly. “How long have you felt this way?” He asked, pulling you tight to his chest. “Too long.” You answered weakly, snuggling close, sniffling. Daryl nodded, brushing back the hair from your face. “That why ya ran off yesterday with Merle?” He asked seriously. You only nodded. You could feel Daryl tense at the thought but you refused to let his imagination run wild, not when he quelled your own fears. “We ran into a herd... it was my fault. I was too loud. Merle took some down but it got out of hand and had to camp out.” Daryl hummed rubbing your arm the worry never melting from his face. “Nothing happened. We just talked.” You tried to reassure him but he still glared into the forest in front of you. “Daryl.” You whispered. “I’ll talk to Merle. Just… hate that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about this.” He whispered.

Back at the prison Daryl immediately went to have a… talk with Merle. After a much needed shower you were back on the hillside, smoking the last of your cigarettes. “Hey.” A soft voice called from behind you. Turning to face the woman you cocked a brow. “Carol?” You muttered watching her take a seat a few feet away. “So… I caught Daryl on his way to… well.” She sighed running a hand through her gray bob. You frowned using your toe to kick a small rock down the hill you nodded. “And?” You whispered, glancing at her through the curtain of your hair. “Honey…” Carol whispered, scooting closer to you, taking your hand in Hera she squeezed it.

“Daryl loves you. He’s loved you since the start.” She muttered, smiling kindly. “When we talk, he only talks about you. How much he cares. He worries. He wants to care for you and asks for advice. He asks about relationship advice sometimes but sometimes he asks what he should do now in the world. And…” she moved so that she was in front of you. “I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel insecure about that, honey. I didn’t mean to. What Daryl and I have is-“ You cut her off with a sad look. “Like brother and sister. I know. He told me.” You muttered. “I accept your apology, Carol. I just hope Daryl forgives me.”

Nodding she sighed. “I’m sure he will.” She whispered. “Like I said. He loves you. He just gets… prickly.” She said, smiling up and behind you. “I ain’t shit…” Your boyfriend’s voice startled you, making you jump as he plopped down to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders you frowned at his broken knuckles. “Did you-“ you reached out and grabbed his hand. “I deserved it, sugar! Just happy you got your shit sorted!” Merle called out walking past, showing off his shiner. Daryl glared at him, flipping him off and pulling you tighter to his chest. Carol giggled standing and walking behind you both. “Have fun, pookie.” She whispered, reaching down to scratch both of your heads as she walked away. “So?” You muttered. “So?” He whispered back. “Are you angry?” You asked. Daryl was silent for a moment as he watched those on the fence work, Rick in his garden, and Carl bring his father water. “No.” He muttered. “Are you?” He asked, looking into your eyes. Shaking your head you snuggled closer to him. “No.”

“Good…” he whispered, combing through your hair watching as the sun set. “Want to take a walk later? Just you and me?” He asked with a smirk blooming on his lips. Smirking back, you nodded. “It’s a date.”

#thank you for the ask!#angst #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #twd #daryl imagines #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #tw: misunderstanding #tw: arguments #tw: fear of abandonment #tw: abandonment

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 11 months

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close to home | chapter six

plot: with the reader unexpectedly reunited with her family, she gets to know the rest of the group and get a sense of where she is. But trouble brews and she realizes that by finding her family, their problems might find her

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,631 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

Beth was an absolute mess when she saw you. Maggie had you wait outside while she went in and got her sister. You weren’t sure why, but you did as she asked, waiting outside with Daryl and Rick. The group leader was observant and kept looking at you with a hand on his gun, but he didn’t speak. And he didn’t threaten you.

After Beth sobbed on your shoulder and held you tightly, you started sensing that something was wrong. Maggie and Daryl exchanged a glance, and he gave her a nod.

“(Y/N), Daddy got bit. We were trying to clear some areas in the prison, and he got bit right on the leg. Rick cut off the infected part of the leg. His quick thinking saved his life. He’s awake now, but we wanted you to be prepared to go in.”

Tears burned your eyes as you nodded slowly and looked at Rick. “Thank you for saving my uncle's life.” You said.

Rick nodded but didn’t say anything.

Beth wrapped her hand around you tightly, and you couldn’t tell if the tears in her eyes were because of you or because she had been through so much and you being her was just such a breaking point she’d lost all control of her emotions.

Your heat melted for your younger cousin, and you cupped her cheek before kissing her forehead.

Maggie led you into the prison, where several people were waiting around the room. You instantly saw the pregnant woman, Rick’s wife, but you couldn’t remember her name. They all looked at you like you were an enemy, and you felt yourself sink back.

“He’s in here,” Maggie said.

She led you into a cell, and then there he was. Tears filled your eyes when you saw the stump of his leg, and you felt your breath hitch. His eyes softened almost as soon as he saw you, and he opened his arm to offer a hug.

You couldn’t help but cry as you fell into his embrace. Despite the hardship of the last year, he still smelt like him. Like a childhood memory of Christmas, Sunday church, and familiarity. His body was soft and warm and reminded you of safety.

“There, there,” he said, “It’s okay. You’re with your family now.”

“Liam, he didn’t….” You cried.

Hershel shared a look with his crying daughters and then looked back at you. “I’m so sorry, dear.”

You nodded and leaned back, “I am too.” When your eyes met, you couldn’t help but think of your father, and your heart broke even more.

“Come on, girls, no more crying,” Hershel said.

The three of you laughed through your tears, and you looked up at your cousins, so very thankful you decided not to pull the trigger yesterday.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to everybody else. You’re gonna fit in here in no time,” Maggie told you with an outstretched hand. “We’ll get you a bunk, and we can get you settled in. And I know Tora’s dying to get out of that carrier.”

You laughed again and gave your uncle's arm a squeeze, “Okay,”

Maggie led you to the other room where everyone was gathering, speaking softly. You suddenly felt nervous again but safer than you did before. You knew your family wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You glanced at Daryl, and he nodded reassuringly. You loosened a breath.

“(Y/N), this is Lori, Carol, and T-Dog,” Maggie said to you, then turned to some of the others in the group. “That’s Carl, Rick, and Lori’s son. That’s Glenn, he’s my, well he’s mine. And then you know Rick and Daryl. There are two others here, but they’re in a different cell block. They were here the whole time.”

You nodded slowly and smiled at the group. They seemed reserved, so it surprised you when Lori stepped up.

“You’re a Greene?” She said, almost to reassure herself. “Welcome to the family then, honey,” She surprised you entirely when she gave you a light hug, her swollen belly sticking out and pressing into you. “I hear you’re a doctor. That’s a wonderful blessing to us. You have no idea.”

“I wasn’t even a resident yet, but I will help in any way I can,” You said.

“You have a cat?” The younger boy—Carl—said to you.

That seemed to break the tension, and everyone chuckled, you right along with them. “Yes, I do. Her name is Tora.”

“Daryl told us she’s a good hunter. I’ve seen some mice droppings around here,” Carol said with a smile, and you could tell she was trying to approach you gently.

“Yes, I’ve got plenty of meals from her. Let me get her,”

Within minutes, Tora was running around the front room of the cell block, getting acquainted with the area and everyone it. When she seemed mostly satisfied, you picked up the heavy cat and handed her to Carl, who looked even smaller.

“I’ve never seen such a big cat,” Carl laughed.

You all laughed, and when you glanced at Rick, who was smiling along with everyone else, he gave you a slight nod. You breathed a little easier after that.

***

The sun had already set when Beth brought you to her cell block. You could tell there was a slight hesitation regarding the group allowing you to sleep in there with them, but nobody said anything. Beth was more excited than you’d ever seen her, and she seemed so young. She helped you settle in your room, and you couldn’t believe how different your last two days had been.

Beth was rambling on about how comfortable the beds were when there was a knock at the door. You both turned, and Lori stood there, one hand on her belly and the other helping support her back.

“(Y/N), I’d like to ask you to look over Carl in the morning. He got shot a few months back and thankfully survived, and Hershel does the absolute best he can, but it would be nice if you could. Please?”

“Of course,” You hesitated for a second, “I can do it now if you’d like?”

“I don’t want to be a bother,”

“It’s no bother,”

Just at that time, Daryl approached the cell. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was making sure everything was okay.

“Okay, okay. That would be great. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” Lori said.

You nodded with a smile and followed her out. She led you down the stairs and to one of the cells she and Carl must share. He was sitting on the bed, cleaning out a gun.

“Carl, sweetie, I’d like Dr. Greene here to take a look at you,” Lori said.

The kid looked up at you and his mom before shaking his head, “I’m fine, Mom,”

You started to feel the tension between them and decided to step in. “If you let me take a look, I can show you some of Tora’s tricks tomorrow.”

That caught his attention, and he slowly nodded, “Okay, fine,”

A little while later, after you gave Carl a clean bill of health--aside from looking thinner than he should be--you made your way towards your new bedroom. But you stopped when you saw Daryl sitting atop a mattress on the perch. Your steps slowed, and you watched momentarily as he cleaned out his arrows and looked over the crossbow.

“Thank you, Daryl,” You said quietly.

He didn’t look up at you, “No need to,”

You would’ve tried again to thank him, but the day you’d spent with him taught you he was a man of little words, and you were exhausted. So without another word, you found your way back to the cell you’d share with Beth and snuggled under mostly clean blankets. Tora jumped beside you to cuddle on your stomach, but you were already asleep.

***

A low whistle caught Daryl’s attention, and he glanced over to see Rick joggling up the steps. He set aside his clean crossbow and stood up to meet him.

“Listen, about (Y/N),” Rick started, “I get that whatever out there happened and that you trust her. And she’s Hershel’s niece, and I’m happy he and the girls found her. Truly, I am. But I’m not willing to blindly trust her just because they're related.”

Daryl chewed on his fingernail and waited for him to finish.

“You told me she’s been out on her own for a while, over the winter, right? That kinda thing must go to someone’s head. It’s gonna take some, but I have an open mind about it. As long as she doesn’t do anything, I won’t.”

“She won't,” Daryl said.

Rick nodded and glanced over at the dark cell. “I’m not thrilled she’s sleeping here with us, but I didn’t think it was worth the argument. I trust her enough in that regard. Still, I’m thinking we take her on our next run. See how she handles walkers.”

Daryl nodded slowly but thought it was unnecessary.

“Tomorrow, we got to clean up the bodies in the yard and move the cars in. I wanna the yard and get accustomed to the area. We can have her help out with the girls in here. She looked at Carl tonight. I’d like her to check everyone over tomorrow. We’ll figure things out from there.”

“It’ll work,” Daryl said, “It’ll work with her,”

Rick nodded slowly and looked back at the cell. “I hope you’re right. I think you’re right. But I wanna be careful,”

#daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x you

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Don't Go Where I Can't Find You

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 (during six year time jump) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, grinding, sideways sex?? (idk what it's called lol), gentle sex (I think?), unprotected sex (DON'T TRY IT AT HOME), straight (?) people sex, swearing, angst ❧ Word Count: 9.5k

❧ Prompt: "Did you ever even love me?" from the Norman Reedus Whores Discord Prompt Challenge (more info here)

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't been the same since losing Rick, and though he loves you, he needs to do what he thinks is right: try to find his friend, bring back his body, or die trying. Six months apart is too much to handle, he soon realizes, and something is calling him back home.

❧ A/N: Hiiii how y'all doin... um so like I tried to do angst, smut, and fluff all in one??? And I also tried to knock out several requests in one fell swoop. So I have sort of a bastardization of what @shariiina requested (tho they asked for a big fight and makeup sex which I don't think I quite nailed but I will definitely try do that more accurately in the future), as well as some anon requests for soft/gentle sex and also reader crying during sex. I was ALSO trying to fit in the prompt from my prompt challenge thingy that my Discord group is doing lol so there's a lot happening here. I just hope it turned out ok! I think this is a pretty sweet little story with a steamy lovemaking scene and a pinch of angst. Some cute/funny moments as well I think.

You weren’t there when the bridge fell, but you heard it, and you felt the ashes from the fire as they drifted over your face.

Daryl had shifted past you, not answering you as you asked what was going on. He had that thousand yard stare you’d seen before. You’d seen it when he lost Merle… When he lost Beth… When he lost Denise…

When you grabbed his face with your hands to look him in the eye, asking what on Earth had happened as tears drowned out his vision, you knew what happened. Context clues gave it away, and the ache in Michonne’s wailing as she emerged from behind Daryl, Maggie and Carol supporting her limp, writhing body.

In your bewilderment, you felt Daryl jerk himself from your grasp, retreating somewhere inside himself you couldn’t reach, somewhere you couldn’t follow. His grief was hostile territory for you, though his heart had become a world of comfort and familiarity the past few years.

This excursion was far more intense than what you’d seen from him before, though. Death was a fixture of everyday life for you and everyone else you knew, but Rick’s death was unprecedented. Nothing could compare to the grief in its wake, especially not for Daryl.

For as long as you could, you left him alone. The only reminder of his presence after that was the feeling of his body weight dipping on the other side of your bed. You were surprised he even tried to sleep next to you, but it was the one thing reminding you that he was there.

Only in the morning he’d be gone, a cool, silken expanse of olive green sheets where once his body lay, sprawled out with open arms trapping you so close to his chest for hours on end, until whatever responsibility he had took him away from you.

Now he seemed to leave on his own accord, you supposed. You weren’t sure where he’d gone during the day, but it wasn’t for lack of looking. You found yourself wandering the streets of Alexandria sometimes, in the back of your mind trying to locate a man who didn’t want to be found, but maybe he wanted you to look for him, you thought. You loved him enough to never stop looking.

Each night he slept less and less. After a while, you weren’t sure if the nights were getting colder from the changing season, or if the warmth of his body you usually relied on was getting further from you. One thing you were sure of—autumn was fading into winter, and for the first time since you found yourself in his arms, you were cold.

One morning when you woke up, you were sure he hadn’t been to bed at all the night before. His musky scent of pine and tobacco still lingered, but it was gradually becoming more faint, and your home was becoming a shell, all because he wasn’t in it.

“Daryl,” you mumbled against your pillow, then flipped over in a half-sleep state to face him where he’d be if he were there. After a month of not waking up next to him, you would’ve thought you’d grow used to it by now. You’d never get used to it, not when waking up next to him was all you had to look forward to.

The haze of sleep still deluding you, you reached out to touch him, the empty space of him. Where are you? you heard your inner voice speak. Daryl… come home.

Your eyes fluttered open with reluctance to see he wasn’t there. Again.

But you heard him moving downstairs, that creaking of the old floorboards underneath his feet. You felt his presence when you were awake enough to feel anything. He was home, and that was enough to get you out of bed that morning.

“Daryl?” you called out to him softly, voice still groggy from sleep. Your bare feet were cold against the hardwood floor as you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, where you saw Daryl’s worn grey backpack sat upon the couch, next to his crossbow.

“Daryl, are you here?”

Approaching footsteps from the kitchen preceded his appearance. He emerged with a few cans of green beans, and a tired, sleepless look upon his face.

You sighed in relief, happy that he was home instead of wherever he went to be alone. Your smile faded when you realized how exhausted he looked, and how red the whites of his eyes were.

You hadn’t been able to touch him in weeks, so when you took the cans out of his hands to place them on a nearby table, he seemed almost startled by your movement.

“You need sleep,” you said, tentatively coming closer and closer until you could rest your hands on his chest, gently moving them up and down against the scratchy fabric of his wool poncho. “Let’s lay down. You’re exhausted.”

His tenseness seemed to loosen under your touch, but his glassy eyes portrayed a different story. Something was off, something more than just grief.

“Sweetheart,” you said, while raising a hand to pin the unruly hairs behind his ears, “what’s wrong?”

He huffed, then removed your hands before turning to pick up the cans. “I’m leavin’,” he grumbled, his back turned towards you.

He moved to the couch to stuff the canned beans inside his pack, then zipped and buckled it tight. Next, he turned to the hallway, retrieving his quiver of bolts he usually used on trips outside the walls.

You didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t have any reason to go out there. As far as you were concerned, his mental health needed to recover from the loss of his best friend, his brother, before he could even think about going out there. Still, maybe it was what he needed, and maybe when he’d come back in a few days like he always did, he’d be more like himself. Maybe it was what he needed to heal.

“When will you be back?” you asked, as you always did.

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze, but not before he made incidental eye contact with you. You looked so innocent, so unaware of what he had planned. He couldn’t hide from it now. Weeks of milling over it in his addled brain had finally accumulated to this moment—telling you, the person he loved more than anything, that he didn’t know when he was coming back. He wasn’t even entirely sure where he was going.

“I was going to make that casserole you like for dinner,” you added. It was better than the silence. “But I’ll wait till you get back. Unless you’re coming back tonight?”

He shook his head. “Don’t wait for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” you said, with a soft laugh under your breath. “Just tell me when and I’ll save it for when you come home.”

He went silent again, opting to arm himself with his various knives and utility belts instead of answering you.

It wasn’t like him at all to ignore you, to avoid your touch, to avert his gaze. Maybe when you first met him three or four years ago, but not now. Not after two years of the greatest kind of intimacy two people could share with one another.

You tested the waters, coming closer to touch him and see if he’d recoil again. Your hands held his, disrupting him from looping his belt. A small smile spread across your face, and though part of it was forced, all of it was born out of love for him. He’d told you before that your smile could fix everything for him, so you hoped he meant it.

“Hey,” you said. “I love you, Tarzan.”

The corner of his lip quirked ever so slightly, but something held him back from returning your smile, even if you called him that little moniker you gave him years ago, to reflect the “wild man” he seemed to be. He always felt more at home in the wilderness, it seemed.

What you expected was for him to return the sentiment, to call you “Jane” as he usually did. He only chewed his bottom lip, and watched your hands as they fit perfectly in his.

He only shook his head, a gesture so foreign to you in this circumstance. He should’ve smiled, held your hands tighter, kiss you… Not loosen himself from your grasp, not take his undying warmth away as he stepped backwards, away from you.

Of course, it was hard to react that way. It wasn’t his instinct, and a part of you knew it, but it still hurt. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, or to do what he was about to do, but he had to. At least, he convinced himself that he had to.

“I’m goin’ away,” he said.

“I know.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m goin’ away, and I ain’t comin’ back till I find Rick.”

You stepped back subconsciously, so much so that you couldn’t feel the back of your legs hit the couch. Gravity forced you to sit on the edge, somewhere between disbelief and confusion. None of those words made any sense together, in that order in which he spoke them. It must’ve been an illusion, some trick of the mind orchestrated by the debilitating loneliness that had settled in your heart. To make matters worse, you feared this was just the beginning.

You tried to make sense of it, in a way that allowed the sense of it to become something else—something you could grasp. “Rick’s gone,” you said quietly. “How are you going to find him if he’s gone?”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t know the answer to that himself. He truly didn’t. “I’m gonna find him, dead or alive.”

“Alive?” you asked in bewilderment. “You… You think he’s alive?”

“Never found a body… Blast of the explosion coulda blown him somewhere nearby.”

“Daryl,” you said, “that’s…” Your words failed you then, as they often did when emotions took over. You couldn’t help it—you loved him, and Daryl never lied. If he said he wasn’t coming back, he wasn’t coming back. “You can’t leave.”

“I gotta.”

The lump in your throat was becoming impossible to swallow, and tried as you might, you couldn’t keep your voice from cracking under the pressure. Tears would soon follow, you were certain of it. Still, you were trying to delude yourself, to interpret Daryl’s straightforward words into something that didn’t tear you apart from the inside out.

“But you’ll be back soon,” you said, looking up at him with much more than just a hint of vulnerability in your face. “You’ll come back, even if you can’t find him?”

He lowered his head in silence, then finally replied: “I dunno.”

Your legs lifted you up to full height, a sudden burst of impatient energy seething through you.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I don’t know, (Y/N).”

You shook your head in bewilderment. “You can’t just leave. I mean, I understand you want to find him but… You can’t leave.”

He huffed through abnormally flared nostrils, indicating that he, too, was losing his patience. It wasn’t pure anger, though, in fact there was very little anger inside of him—it was more like dread, sorrow for the pain he would continue you putting you (and himself) through as he tried to justify his reasons for needing to leave, even though he couldn’t really think of any justifiable reason. It was irrational, impulsive, dangerous, inconsiderate… Most of all, he just wanted to get it over with; to rip off the bandage and try his best to ignore the sting.

“I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” he said, in that low, extra gravelly voice that told you he was close to a breaking point. “It’s settled.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak, with nothing but a barely audible whimper falling and fading into thin air. Your tears inevitably broke out, but they were muffled as you tried to maintain composure. You weren’t sure why—Daryl had seen you cry countless times, but this time was different. Maybe Daryl was leaving you because you cried so much, because you cared so much. You feared he found you pathetic or overbearing, maybe even annoying.

Of course, no such thing was true, but irrational fears born of insecurity and self-doubt got the better of you. The strain in your face was evident.

“I, uh, I don’t wanna leave,” he said.

“Then don’t!” you suddenly exclaimed, voice weak and faltering. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, then stepped forward tentatively as you approached him. “Or… let me go with you.”

“Nah,” he said quickly. “No way. You gotta stay here where it’s safe.”

“Daryl… I—I can’t. I need you. I love you… How could you say you’re leaving? Doesn’t what we have mean anything to you?”

You hated to ask him that, and you never would’ve unless you weren’t genuinely afraid he felt nothing for you anymore. Of course, it wasn’t that at all—it was the grief that overwhelmed him, called him to take Rick’s disappearance on his already burdened shoulders. In a sense, it had nothing to do with you, but you were the one who was going to suffer. You were the one who’d be left behind.

“You know it does,” he replied, this time voice much more firm and loud, as though he couldn’t even risk the thought of you not knowing that for sure. “This ain’t easy for me, but it’s eating me up inside. I at least gotta try.”

“Then let me help,” you begged, and somehow you’d gotten close enough to take his hands in yours. If you got desperate enough, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself down on both knees before him. “Please. Just don’t leave me… Don’t—don’t go where I can’t find you.”

“Woman,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. He must’ve known how you melted when he called you that, how easily you could give into him. “Don’t go lookin’ for me. I need you right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to flood your cheeks with tears. “I need you here,” you said. “I just don’t understand how you can do this after everything.”

You stepped back, gently yanking your hands from Daryl’s grasp until you stumbled back onto the sofa. You sat there staring straight through his face, which had sunk as the grim reality of his decision came shattering down upon him.

He wasn’t sure what was worse: being away from you indefinitely, or leaving you hurt like this.

As you held your head in your hands, you thought back to all the times Daryl had said he’d never leave you, in the same breath as the words “I love you.” Now that he was leaving you, without a return in sight unless he found Rick, you wondered if those words really meant anything.

“Did you ever even love me?” you asked sincerely.

It wasn’t that you wanted him to prove it, or to feel guilty for what he was doing, but you genuinely didn’t know anymore, and that uncertainty terrified you. You’d built your whole life around him the last few years. You’d made sacrifices, compromises, choices that were predicated on the belief that you were going to be with him forever. Was it over now? You had a feeling Daryl didn’t even know himself, all he knew was what he thought he needed to do, and that your relationship would have to hang in the balance until he accomplished his self-assigned task.

He swallowed hard, making sure he didn’t cry when he opened his mouth to speak. “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “I never will.”

That was six months ago now.

Six months since he’d seen you, six months since he’d held you, six months since he’d heard you say, “don’t go where I can’t find you.”

He hated that he’d done just that, and he quickly realized that his decision wouldn’t ease the pain of Rick’s disappearance.

All it did was render him lonely. Much more lonely than he’d ever felt in his life.

Still, he gave himself a mission, a responsibility to find Rick alive or dead. There were questions that needed to be answered, and Daryl didn’t leave any stone unturned.

He went where you couldn’t find him, though you didn’t try to find him. You were convinced he didn’t want you, that there was more to his leaving than just finding Rick. He didn’t love you anymore, and you still found yourself wondering if he ever did.

Around the same time he left, though, you noticed you couldn’t find one of your blouses—the cream colored peasant blouse with lace trim and cinched waist. You hadn’t worn it in some time, since it was one of Daryl’s favorites on you, but its disappearance drove you crazy, since you couldn’t think of where it had gone to.

That blouse had lived a more interesting life in the past six months than you had, as it lay neatly folded at the bottom of Daryl’s pack, the only thing he had to remember you by.

Perhaps he should’ve told you he took it, knowing you were rather sentimental about your clothing, but in the emotional minefield of that morning he left, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He spoke very little that day, and he regretted not telling you everything he wanted to.

So now, sitting beside a rocky creek in the last golden light of the late spring afternoon, only the gentle sound of trickling water and birds chirping sweetly in the trees, he thought of you.

He always thought of you, especially with the weather warming up, knowing how much you loved to wear your sundresses and sandals.

You’d frolic around the house, opening the windows to let in the soft, subtle spring breeze and the twinkling sound of the wind chimes. When he was home, you’d somehow get him to lay on the couch, your body snuggled up to his as you both fell asleep to those wind chimes, on an afternoon not unlike today.

He could practically taste the sweet and sour lemonade you squeezed fresh from the tree that had grown outside the walls, but hovered over just enough to allow ripe yellow lemons to fall on the shady grass below, waiting for you to pluck them up with a delicate hand in the safety of Alexandria.

In his hands, he held your blouse, absentmindedly caressing the fabric between his fingers. He had taken great care not to let the lifestyle he’d been living the last six months tarnish or tear the thin fabric, as he fully intended that someday he’d return it to you.

He didn’t know when that day would come, which was why he couldn’t promise you he’d return, but for weeks, he’d felt home calling back to him. In fact, he was sure it’d been calling to him since the moment he left, but now he allowed himself to hear it, those dainty chimes on the wind, drowning out the sound of the creek before him.

He didn’t take your blouse out of his pack often. There was no way he’d risk staining it with his filthy hands, or let the well-preserved, lingering scent of your perfume wear off, but lately he found himself sitting here, not far from his camp, holding that shirt.

Did you ever even love me? The phrase rang out in his head, echoing in the empty cathedral of his mind.

The fact you even had to question it devastated him beyond even his own comprehension. What was worse was how he left without really proving it, without actions to mirror his words.

I never stopped loving you, he’d said. I never will.

He’d played that scene out in his head with every possible chain of events, but nothing could stop him from remembering what he had said, and the fact that what he said simply wasn’t enough.

Stupid, he thought to himself. I’m so fuckin’ stupid.

Six months of searching for a missing man, and he had nothing to show for it but a few dead ends. If he hadn’t found him now, he was never going to find him. He had told himself he’d never stop looking, but something had struck him just then, when he milled over your words once more: don’t go where I can’t find you.

If he kept looking for Rick, he’d be lost, too. It was time to go home.

He walked longer than he had in some time, long enough for day to stretch into night. The guards at the gate nearly couldn’t recognize the hero of Alexandria, face shrouded by a tattered hood and smeared with several layers of dirt and blood.

Only the crossbow on his back gave away his identity, as well as the gruffness of his voice. The gate opened for him with a familiar rattle, and quickly the routine began to settle in once again, as though he’d never left.

As his aching feet carried him towards the house he once shared with you, he found himself wondering if you were still there, or if you’d moved to a smaller home. His question was answered when he spied your muddied yellow rain boots sitting outside the front door, and your hand painted welcome stone on the front step.

Thank goodness he’d never lost his house key—he kept it on a long string of twine so he could never not find it.

As he turned the key and pushed open the door, he was overwhelmed with the scent of something he vaguely remembered coming from the kitchen, where the oven was still warm from dinner that evening.

Hunger overwhelmed him, and made him instinctively head to the fridge, where a recognizable casserole dish was sitting on the top shelf, still warm.

He didn’t notice he let out an audible grunt of hunger before he bent over to pull the dish out and set it on the counter. Peeling back the tin foil, a smattering of potatoes, cheese, garlic, and probably a myriad of other spices and vegetables you’d thrown together, greeted him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cheese, or anything moderately tasty, but it must’ve been before he left, certainly it was something you had made.

As he shoveled spoonfuls of lukewarm food into his mouth, he realized you had inadvertently made good on your promise: you had that casserole ready for him when he got back.

Turning to face the clock on the wall, he narrowed his eyes to see through the darkness: 10:37 PM.

You must’ve been asleep upstairs, and plopping himself onto that bed alongside you was just about the best possible thing he could think of right now. He trudged up the stairs, with each step careful not to wake you. He was worried about how you might react to his sudden appearance after so long away, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see you. He couldn’t think straight enough to work out the logistics. What if you woke up before he did, and what if you were terrified of his sudden presence? Perhaps you wouldn’t even want him in your house, after so long of not seeing him. Still, there was no indication that your relationship was over when he left. He assumed it was an unspoken agreement that if and when Daryl returned, you’d pick up right where you left off. He only hoped that was a correct assumption.

Sure enough, you were asleep, without the light of the lantern by your bedside table which you used to leave on for him to return. As such, he could hardly see you, your features just barely illuminated by the cool, indigo-tinted light of the moon streaming in through the window.

In the warmth of the night, you must’ve kicked off your blankets, as your sprawled out body was outlined only in the thin cover of the sheet. He smiled to himself, remembering how much of a restless sleeper you were, always tossing and turning so much that you’d end up tangled in the blankets, and sometimes he’d wake up with your hand dangling over his face. You were even more restless when he wasn’t there, since his arms holding you close to his body seemed to keep you from moving around too much. That, and the comfort he provided you with was enough to lull you into the deepest, most undisturbed sleep.

As he stripped himself of his vest and shirt, he remembered how filthy he was, covered in grime and tree sap and dried walker blood. He was ashamed to admit he hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, and if you’d been with him, you would’ve made sure he bathed at least every other day, but he’d been alone for so long, left to his own devices, and his less than sanitary habits.

But a shower sounded almost as good as sleep, so he turned towards the bathroom door, gently closing it behind him as he entered to light the lantern next to the sink. Routine—it was all coming back to him. He had tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy out there in the woods, but he quickly learned that it was nearly impossible, what with the nomadic nature of his lifestyle, moving from camp to camp, never staying in one place for too long. As much as he was used to living like that, he hated it. It made him feel more like an animal than a human.

Tarzan, he remembered you calling him. Somewhere between man and beast. Right now, under the gentle stream of the warm water, as he struggled to comb his fingers through the large knots in his wild, disheveled hair, he never felt more like he was trying to regain his humanity, to wash the wilderness from his body.

He raised his hands to rub his face vigorously under the splashing water, and proceeded to further claw at the tangled clumps of chestnut waves on his head.

“Damnit,” he sighed under his breath. It was so much easier when you did it for him.

Remembering the existence of shampoo and conditioner, he turned to reach for the bottle of homemade “hair stuff,” as he called it. When he removed the cap, a fragrant burst of sweet pea and lemon awakened his senses. Oh, it was just like he remembered, just like the smell of your hair.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled under his breath. “My girl.”

He’d missed lathering his hair with your little concoction, but even more than that, he missed the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and the sound of your voice so close to his ear as you asked him about his day. Maybe you’d accidentally tug on his hair a little too hard as you tried to get out the knots, but he’d never complain. Not when even the pain felt so good.

Soon his head was drenched in white bubbles and soapy lather, cleansing his mop of brown hair and removing the blood and dirt that had somehow found their way into his wavy locks.

When he washed out the shampoo, he squeezed a hefty dollop of conditioner into his palm, and smoothed it through his less tangled hair to get the real stubborn knots out. It felt wonderful to finally be clean, but that was just his head. His body still needed tending to.

You must’ve still been getting those handmade bars of rose petal soap from the neighbors, since the sweet floral scent quickly wafted into his nostrils as he held it in his hands, rubbing it between them to make a thick lather.

As the conditioner settled in his hair, he dragged the soap languidly across his chest, paying extra attention to his underarms, which surely needed it.

His hands trailed down with the soap to his abdomen, circling around his navel. It’d been so long since his stomach felt full. His belly protruded more than usual, too, a sight that was welcome as he looked down to see the dirt washing off of him.

Next was, of course, his nether regions, where he’d felt an irresistible urge since the moment he saw you, even if he could hardly make out your face. He knew you were just as beautiful as ever, and that he wasn’t entirely sure how he could sleep in bed with you without getting lost in his lustful thoughts.

He could already feel the tingling sensation surge through him as he ran his soapy hand along his shaft, paying extra care to the tip and all the crevices.

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against the tile wall. It had been so long since he touched himself. In fact, he was sure he never really had time to do it while he was out in the wilderness, constantly in danger.

That didn’t stop him from thinking of you, though. All those lonely nights of shallow, dreamless sleep without the softness of your body he’d gotten so accustomed to holding. Too often had he found himself reaching for empty air, or whispering your name in the haze of his exhaustion. On particularly desperate nights, he clung to your blouse, burying his head in the bundle of fabric like it was a burial shroud as he unzipped his pants to just barely touch himself over his underwear, but that was long ago, and lately he had to reserve his yearning to simple thoughts and memories, making it all so much more potent. He needed you.

Without entirely meaning to, he gripped tighter around himself as he made longer and more intentional strokes. Soon the soap in his other hand must’ve slipped from his grasp, and he leaned forward to catch himself before the sudden pleasure of his touching became too much to bear.

He flinched slightly as his forehead pressed against the cool wet tile of the shower wall, one hand outstretched above his head, the other now tugging harder and faster on his cock.

When he became more aware of his body and its movements, he slowed his pace, opting to thumb at his tip in gentle circles as he took a deep breath. He felt the water hitting his back, heard the heavy pitter patter of droplets hitting the tile below and pooling around his feet ever so slightly. Funny how one could feel so alive, so human, in such a simple way.

And yet, he could hardly bear to allow himself that simple, human pleasure of intimate touch. How could he do such a thing when he’d left you alone for six months? The shower could cleanse his body, but not his mind.

Still, he allowed his fingers to trace gently along the semi-hard surface of his shaft, as once your fingers had done the same. “I love you, Tarzan,” your voice echoed in a distant memory. He nudged his forehead in small circles against the tile, as if it could ever feel like your warm, soft body, curled up against his as he held you like he always used to. Why did he ever stop?

Always trying to find something. Always trying to save someone. Always the hero.

The longer the water ran, the more he returned to the reality of his situation, and the more he realized just how exhausted he really was.

He crept out of the bathroom slowly, careful to hold the lantern close to him so as not to wake you with its light. His sore legs seemed to carry him to the bed—his side of the bed, the one that you’d left deserted for six months, as if you knew all along this night would come, that someday he’d come back to you.

What on Earth was he thinking? He could’ve slept on the couch, he could’ve slept on the front porch, for crying out loud, but would it be so bad if he slept here, where he belonged? Weren’t you still his, anyway? Please, still be mine.

If you were awake, he’d beg you, but you weren’t awake, and he’d spent too long having one-sided conversations. He just needed sleep, or you, whichever one he could have. If it was only sleep, he would take that gladly.

Though it was tempting, he had to admit. Tempting to wake you up. Tempting to gently rub your shoulder until your eyes shot open as they always did, an old habit from living on the road. Tempting to engulf you like quicksand until your body melded with his, for the first time in so long. Tempting to rid you of that silky button-up nightshirt he immediately recognized on your body. It looked a little suffocating, a little too modest for his taste. The night was warm, stolid and heavy. Even that sheet seemed too hot, or maybe he just wanted to see your body, that pliant, supple flesh he had once held sensual dominion over.

In your sleep, you’d finally settled into a fetal position, curled up on your side, back facing him. As he set down the lantern on the bedside table, you stirred slightly, a small, breathy whimper escaping your lips unconsciously.

From the indirect light of the lantern, he could finally make out your features—a stinging pain rose up in his abdomen, as he’d almost forgotten how sweet you looked in your sleep. It was something out of a Renaissance painting or a pre-Raphaelite’s hazy daydream. Though he could only see your side profile from his vantage point, your lips parted so delicately as your head moved in adjustment against the softness of your pillow.

He was just about to settle into his side of the bed when he noticed a dark piece of fabric tangled between your arms as you held it close to your chest. Squinting, he lifted his knees to the bed and leaned over you to get a better look, and of course he knew what it was. It was his, after all.

Aw, sunshine, he thought, watching your fingers curl and indent the fabric of his old black t-shirt he used to sleep in on cold winter nights. He could even make out some of the holes, in the same old spots.

Overwhelmed with love, he let himself lay down as close to you as he could without waking you, he’d hoped. His arm’s old muscle memory immediately kicked in as it draped itself gently over your side, a movement he was quick to take back when he felt your body flinch and heard your breath hitch in unison.

Sleep hadn’t quite lost its hold over you as you mumbled out something incoherent. You’d felt his empty presence before, especially when his name echoed in the atmosphere of your dreams on a nightly basis. By morning, you wouldn’t remember them, only blurry glimpses and long lost sensations.

In your mind, you always knew that slight weight around your waist was nothing but a phantom limb, but in your heart, you’d always bring yourself to look over your shoulder at his side, where he never was. Until tonight.

When you lifted your gaze ever so slightly, you swore you saw a faint glimmer of familiar blue eyes nestled between dark strands of freshly rinsed hair, though it couldn’t be, you thought.

Still, in your transitory state between consciousness and sleep, you mumbled his name under your breath, almost unintelligibly: “Daryl…”

Though he looked much clearer than he usually did in your dreams, you were quick to dismiss the dimly lit, shadowy figure beside you as nothing more than a lovesick illusion, so you turned and buried your face in the shirt you’d been clinging to every night since Daryl left, not knowing that he was right there, only wanting to hear your voice again.

“Hey, Jane,” he said softly, then reached his hand out to touch your shoulder as you flinched yourself awake.

“Oh... my god,” you said groggily. “Daryl?”

His body didn’t give yours the chance to turn to face him. Instead, he aligned his chest snugly to your back, and tucked his arms tight around your sides until you were fully stuck in his grasp.

Rendered silent, you shook your head in disbelief as you felt his lips hungrily latch onto your exposed neck, while his hands slid along your side in a desperate attempt to remove the sheet draping your body.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had come over him, whether it was the sound of your voice or the feeling of the warmth radiating from your body, but all he knew was that he had no immediate desire to explain himself, or to excuse his actions, if they could ever even be excused, all he could say, repeated in breathless sweeps of his nearly tear-soaked voice, was: “I’m sorry.”

Between each apology, his lips found a new part of your skin to soak with saliva from his frantic open-mouthed kiss.

The more you felt his lips tremble against your heated skin, the more your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and the more you couldn’t care less if he was sorry or not—six months without him, without love, made you ravenous for touch, and his touch alone.

When your shock and relief at his presence subsided, you reached back to squeeze his hand as it grasped firmly onto the fabric of your nightshirt, nearly tearing it in his reckless desperation.

You had barely even seen his face, but you felt his body and his presence with you in the darkness of your room, so it was enough to know he was there, that he loved you enough to come back home to you. Whatever anger and confusion you had was still there, but what consumed you was the very essence of him, the only thing you’d wanted for the past six months.

“Mm, Tarzan,” you hummed sleepily, bringing his hand to your chest to cup your breast.

You felt his chest heave against your back, and the scent of your shampoo in his hair made you smile as you bit your lip, trying to hold back the happy tears and save them for later.

His hand squeezed your breast gently, but just enough to elicit a deep sigh from your lips. The erection growing in his underwear was becoming unavoidable, and that hardness pressed up against your bottom made you shiver in need. Your body squirmed and writhed so much he hissed between his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, where his tongue traced circles under your ear.

Heat spread all through your body, until you were uncomfortable under the thin fabric of the sheet. With a huff, you kicked it off you, and Daryl’s hand didn’t waste a second to reach over your waist and palm at your clothed mound. You’d forgotten how strong he was—the pressure of his heavy hand pulled you even closer to him, and sent a small shockwave through your touch-starved body.

Both of you felt so delicate, like thin sheets of glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch. When his hand fondled you there again, you let out a sharp gasp as you reached down to hold your hand over his. “Yes…” you sighed. “Touch me… Don’t stop.”

He put more pressure on his palm as his fingers circled above your underwear, right over that sensitive little bundle of nerves he used to be so good at stimulating. His fingers were still just as good as they had once been—maybe even better from months of using them so much more than he had before. They were nimble and precise, yet somehow still heavy and bulky in shape. You’d never known such perfect fingers before, or such hands that could caress your body with the utmost love and respect.

Even in his desperation to touch you, to make love to you, he always held you like he could wait an eternity for you if he needed to—there was never any rush to his love, it was always slow and sweet, tender and soft. If you stopped him now, told him to get out of your house and to never see you again, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d respect your displeasure with him and his absence, but you didn’t pull away. Maybe a part of you wanted to, wanted to torture him and put him through the same pain you went through when he left, but something told you that he had gone through that same pain, too, that he never wanted to leave you, but he felt he had to.

You always knew he loved you, and here he was—proving it.

As his mouth sucked on the skin of your neck, you maneuvered his hand until his fingers slipped underneath the fabric and tickled your outer lips. His hand stilled for a moment, allowing you to use it to your liking. You used it to spread your lips, and encouraged his fingers to enter you slowly, all while you writhed purposefully against his palm, hitting your sensitive spot.

He groaned lowly in your ear as the feeling returned to his fingers, and he didn’t hesitate to dig deeper, two fingers curling up inside you until you whimpered in satisfaction. “Oh, God… Daryl.”

The weight of your leg being placed atop his as you tried to spread yourself out more caught him off guard, and his fingers dug deeper, sending you writhing and whimpering from the pressure. He felt your tightness squeezing all around his thick fingers, soaking them as you became more aroused.

“Don’t remember you bein’ this tight, sunshine,” he whispered into your ear between kisses. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

“Mm, put it in me,” you said, voice strained as your core rutted against his hand to increase the pressure. You bent the knee of your outstretched leg and grounded your foot on the bed, stretching your entrance as much as you could. “It’s been so long.”

He grunted in agreement as he pulled out his fingers to raise them to your clit once more, circling it in slow, rhythmic motions.

“I ain’t never stopped thinkin’ of you,” he said. “I missed you… God, I missed you, woman.”

You smiled and reached down to tug off your panties, while he moved to yank himself free from his own underwear.

Quickly you found yourself reaching back to grasp his hard shaft, pulling it to your folds where you pressed his tip to your clit. His chin pressed firmly to your shoulder, he watched you stroke his cock against your slit, which you dragged back and forth along his now aching shaft.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your neck. “I ain’t gonna last long.”

“Me neither.”

His hips jutted forward and backward, gently rocking himself against you. Each movement hit your clit and forced a heavenly sigh from your lips. Daryl had tried with all the mental fortitude he had to recreate that sound in his head, but your voice was like honey, coated in sugar crystals and dripping from your succulent lips. He hadn’t known sweetness like you and your body for so long, and he knew with every surge of tingles that ran through him that he couldn’t keep himself from his release for too long.

You gasped when his cock entered you slowly, breaching your entrance and burying itself in your tightness. Now you could feel just how incredibly close you were to bliss—only a handful more minutes of touching and penetrating would relieve you of your need.

“Oh, God!” you cried out in a gasp. “I—I… Oh…”

You felt his cock remain still inside of you as he caught his breath, trying to pace himself. His hand massaged your breast with tender, circular movements, comforting you.

You bit your lip and shut your eyes tight as you writhed gently to feel more of the pressure of his tip on that tingly spot inside you.

“You all right?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine… I think I just… forgot how big you are.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked with a smile, slightly more cocky than his usual one-sided smirk. He slowly pushed himself deeper, his cock curving more and more inside of you. The warm, confining walls of your body clenched around him on their own accord as they adjusted to his sizable thickness. Your body had been so used to it before, but now it was almost foreign, like your first time all over again.

“So… tight,” he grumbled against your shoulder. Letting go of your breast, he snaked his hand down to your clit, moving his fingers with increasingly fast pace. “Want you to come on me… Want ya to get this cock all soakin’ wet… like a good girl.”

You giggled under your breath. After all this time, you’d still never get used to Daryl’s dirty talk, but you loved it—the way his gruff, scratchy southern drawl made those sinful words sound so sweet and nearly angelic, yet with a deep, growling animalism in the pit of his stomach.

“Mm, don’t stop,” you sighed. “I’ll… come for you.”

“You better.”

His hand applied more pressure to your outside as his cock buried deeper inside you, going all the way until his hilt hit your bottom. You stretched your leg further behind him, allowing more room for the girth of his cock, though still you were so constrained around him, a feeling that had him gasping for air between heavy, breathless breaths.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”

He moved as rhythmically as he could as he lay on his side, with your leg wrapped behind him and your bottom on his lower abdomen, causing him to strain. His feet anchored him, allowing his hips to thrust in steady, consistent movements. There was just enough pressure on you, just enough to get those shockwaves of bliss pumping through you as he got you closer to letting go.

The more he penetrated you, the more your body soaked him in arousal, allowing more comfort for your orgasm to soon take over. As his hand applied more pressure, you grinded yourself against his palm in a desperate attempt to get more of that sweet tingly feeling.

“Easy, girl,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s all right… I got ya… Your man’s got you. I’m home.”

“Daryl…” you whimpered shakily. “Oh, Daryl… Don’t you… ever leave me again.”

“I won’t. I got you, sunshine. Let me make you feel good, just like I used to.”

Even he was starting to crumble the closer you got to relief, and as he pleasured you, inside and out, you shut your eyes tight and felt the incoming surge of pleasure about to send shockwaves through you. Still, you weren’t quite there, and the agony of wanting that sweet feeling to send your body into unrestrained convulsions was so potent that you couldn’t stand it anymore. Your sensitive, supple body couldn’t stand it anymore.

Tears began to roll down your cheek, seeping out from between the tightly closed lids of your eyes and falling into the corners of your lips until the taste of salt melted onto your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, tears breaking your voice. “I need…”

“What do ya need?”

“I need to… to come.”

“You will.”

His hand gripped your mound hard and hit harder at your clit, sending you into a whimpering state of frantic writhing and panting. “Please…”

“I’m here… I got ya.”

The glass shattered when you least expected it, but it was so mind-numbingly good that you flung your head back onto his shoulder, while your body writhed and rocked back and forth in pleasure as each wave of bliss surged through you. “Yes!” you cried out. “Oh, yes… Oh, God…”

He held still inside of you as your walls clenched and squeezed around his aching cock, swollen and just about ready to burst inside you. Each pulse has him groaning against your scalp, where he’d buried his face in your hair. “Shit,” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me come, too.”

As your high subsided, you unfurled your leg and rolled more completely onto your side, careful not to let his cock go. He clung to you, his arms around your abdomen as he refused to release you from his grasp. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave again—he knew that from the moment he decided to come back home.

Without a word, he thrusted deep inside of you, moving at a more desperate pace. He kept his arms hugging around you, with his hand placed firmly on your stomach, where he felt his body meeting yours.

“I love you,” he panted in your ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Daryl… Come inside me.”

He groaned just at the thought—the thought of filling you in the most sensual, intimate way possible, and watching it all trickle out, the proof of his love for you.

One more deep thrust and he felt the final pulse trail down his shaft, into the tip, and out into you, his moans and “ah’s” of relief sinking into your shoulder as his teeth dug a small imprint.

Your sigh of pleasure broke out into a breathy, delirious laugh, the feeling of his spend tickling you from the inside and heating you up with its warmth. He held you close by your waist as his hips kept thrusting, eager to drain every last drop inside of you.

He must’ve had so much built up inside of him, so much pent up need for release—his explosion never seemed to end. He was writhing against you, dragging heavy, open-mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck.

“Mm,” you sighed, rubbing your stomach as if you’d just eaten the best meal of your life. “You still got it, Tarzan.”

He blushed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “Ain’t nothin’ without you, Jane.”

You turned your head till your lips met his, for the first time in so long. His tongue snaked languidly into your mouth, and yours did the same, until you pulled away, with your tongue circling over his lips.

You studied his face in the dimness of the dark room, and that sorrowful look in his eyes reminded you of your own sadness, the one that had left such a bitter taste in your mouth for so long. Daryl might’ve filled you up with sweetness again, but you wouldn’t forget how he left you.

“You jerk,” you said, much to his surprise. “You left me… I thought you’d never come back.”

“I—I know,” he said, tangling his hand in your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. He never had a way with words, and he was hoping he’d proven it with his actions. “Shoulda never left. Shoulda stayed right here, with you.”

You shook your head and turned your body towards his, finally seeing him in full. It reminded you of long nights laying in bed together, talking endlessly until the sun came up, or until one of you fell asleep, usually you. Only now, instead of talking about the future, you spoke of the past, of the moment Daryl broke your heart, and his own, too.

You soon found your cheeks were soaked in tears, and his hand quickly moved to catch them. You’d cried so many times since he left, always wondering where he was, if he’d found Rick, if he was even alive. You yearned for his touch, for his thumb to brush away the tears and for his lips to kiss them away until there were no more tears left to cry.

Now, he was finally here, you just weren’t sure how to deal with it.

“I know… I know that you love me,” you said. “I know that. I just wish… I wish I would’ve wrapped myself around your ankle and made you stay.” You laughed through your tears, and he smiled, too, just a little, at the thought. “I think I loved you too much to do that… You weren’t happy. You did what you needed to do. I understand that. I mean, I didn’t like it, but I understood it.”

He shook his head. “Nah, don’t make excuses for me. You should be mad… Shoulda kicked me outta this bed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, still tearful, but clouded now by happy tears, not sad ones. “I don’t think I could ever kick you out of bed… But I’ll tell you one thing.” You wrapped your wrists loosely around his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead touched yours. “Next time you leave like that, you might not have a warm bed, or a woman, waiting for you when you come back.”

He nodded seriously, his damp bangs tickling your nose as they fell into place. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t gotta worry about that, though. Told you, I ain’t ever leavin’ again.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, giggling at your own emotional state. “Good. Sometimes, I felt like going out there, try to find you. Almost did once or twice. Michonne stopped me. But you know, I knew I wouldn’t be able to find you anyway.”

He sighed, the cruel sting of guilt stabbing him in the side. His chin lifted to rest on your head, as his hand moved to stroke your back, replacing your nightshirt to cover your bottom half. “You don’t belong out there,” he said. “Neither do I. I know that now. Just… had to try.”

“I know. Hero complex. I think that’s just one reason why I love you so much.”

You leaned up to kiss his forehead, nestling your nose in his scalp, where you got another good whiff of your shampoo. “Did you take a shower just for me?” you asked, slightly blushing at the idea. Of course, you knew he probably would’ve taken one anyway, but a part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he did it for you, knowing how much you loved him when he was clean.

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, wry smirk. “Well, uh… Maybe. Knew you wouldn’t want me dirtying up the place.” He looked around the room, the light of the lantern behind him casting a shadow of your curved figure on the wall. Not much had changed at all since he left, other than a few of the trinkets he had brought back for you being on full display on your shared dresser. Absence really did make the heart grow even fonder, though you were always certain you couldn’t love Daryl anymore than you already did.

It reminded him of the shirt he had seen you clinging to as you slept, and how he, too, kept one of your shirts for just the same purpose. “You sleep with my shirt every night?” he asked with a slightly mischievous raised eyebrow.

You huffed. He knew the answer to that question, you could tell. “Don’t make fun,” you said. “I missed you. You’re important to me, and… sometimes, that shirt felt like all I had left of you.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat that formed at your words, and he knew if you said anything like that again, his heart would break into a million pieces. Not only because he had put you through this, but because he knew the feeling, too. He knew the fear that he would never see you again, the uncertainty of it all.

“I, uh… I got your shirt, too.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. The slight embarrassment of his sentimentality made him flustered. “Ya know, I… mighta taken that white shirt with me.” Another pang of guilt knocked the wind out of him. He had taken one of your favorite shirts, for his own benefit, what kind of man was he? “I’m sorry. I shoulda asked, or—”

You laughed and squeezed him tight, nestling your head in his shoulder to kiss the junction of his neck. “That’s so sweet,” you said, choking up once again. “Sweetheart, do you have any idea how crazy I was, tearing this place apart looking for my blouse? I thought it just… grew legs and walked out of here, never to be seen again.”

“Well, I kept it in perfect condition,” he said. “Good as new. No stains, no rips, nothin’. Like it never left.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

✏ Taglist

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #twd smut

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yevmarie · 3 months

Text

Light My Fire | Chapter 5

Masterlist

< Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 >

Plot: having lost everything you are drowned in depression, which had happened to you a year ago. Now you need to struggle with the apocalypse as well with no sparkle in your heart. But there is one man who can light your fire to live.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, swearing, smoking, vomitting, Shane gaslighting, soft Merle (in his own way), hurt and comfort, fluffy Daryl, differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).

If I miss something, please let me know. I hope you enjoy :).

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie

The sourness gathered in your jaws, and cold sweat soaked your tank top. You realized you were almost throwing up because of the anxiety overwhelming you. Barely hearing a familiar voice calling your name, as it was ringing in your ears, you ran several feet, stopping near one of the trees and vomiting. Daryl came up to you, seeing your pathetic state.

“Are ya okay?” the archer’s voice sounded concerned. You breathed heavily, shaking your head.

“What’s goin' on with ya?” the man couldn’t stop but continued asking, hoping he could help you somehow.

“Nothing,” you replied, not wishing him to be immersed in your problems. He’s a great buddy but not a friend to spill everything on.

“Merle’s on a run tomorrow. Should he bring a pregnancy test?” Daryl shifted from one leg to another and started to chew his fingers. Every body movement showed how he was nervous and regretting what he’d just said. He understood it wasn’t his business, and this probably would make you push him away.

“Who taught you manners, Dixon?” you spat the remaining bitterness out of your mouth.

“Ya’ve been looking like shit for a fortnight,” the man bit his lower lip. “Being pale, crying, now throwing up. Thought ya…”

“I’m not pregnant, Daryl. Just a rebound effect and anxiety,” you straightened up, wiping your mouth with your forearm, and went past the embarrassed archer, getting back to the place you had been sitting the whole day.

“Wanna talk 'bout it?” he stood behind your back, keeping his distance, ready to leave you alone.

“Dunno,” you closed your face with your palms. “Just not sure you want to hear complaints from a stranger,” you sobbed as your own words hit your weak point: your fear of loneliness you’d been through this time.

“I’m not good at labels, but ya’re not a stranger to me, Y/N,” Daryl stood for a while, then decided to walk away before he heard your “okay.” He slowly came back to you to sit beside you silently, as if you were an animal he was hunting for, and any noise could scare you.

“So, if ya don’ need a test, then could he find medicines for ya?” Daryl turned his face to you, hoping to see yours.

“Thanks, ain’t no need,” you faced him with a sad smile. “I’m afraid it’ll do worse. I just need time, and this will go away. At least I hope so.”

You both looked into each other's eyes, sitting silent for a moment.

“Who hurt ya?” Daryl’s low, raspy voice sounded soothing, and his blue eyes still pierced yours.

“A lot of things and people,” you gasped, looking somewhere away. “I lost my parents a year ago, which led to depression. My boyfriend couldn’t bear it anymore and broke up with me half a year later,” your tears spilled, recalling Shane and Lori in the forest, then thought about Rick who would be there, and nothing similar would have happened. “I lost my best friend, almost my brother, right before the outbreak. I…” your voice cracked, “I’m so fucking tired, Daryl,” his heart flipped seeing your face grimace because of the pain you were suffering from. To his own surprise, he hugged you, gripping you by your shoulder and stroking it a bit clumsily but gently. You laid your head on his chest, which made Daryl tense his muscles for a moment, but he overcame the tension and relaxed. “I will not make it. I can’t. I’m fed up with everything. I did have hope I could overcome, but… I’ve seen something today I shouldn’t have to,” you silenced for a moment, not sure if you want to continue talking about it.

“I’ll hold any secret of yours if this is an issue,” Daryl’s voice became almost a whisper, while he didn’t stop comforting you, which he himself found so natural though still strange.

“I found my ex fucking with my best friend’s wife… Widow.” your lower lip quivered in pain, and your eyes stung with the new wave of tears.

Daryl frowned as he figured out who you were talking about. “Shane? Your ex?”

The man felt your nod and the warmth of the tears dropping on his shirt.

“He’s a dickhead and doesn’t deserve your tears,” Daryl’s hand gently squeezed your bicep, slightly gripping you closer to him. The archer was shocked by his own words and body movements as if he was not in control of himself. Everything wasn’t typical for him though he instinctively wanted to make you feel, if not fine, then a bit relaxed. You reminded him of a small kitten curled up in his big palms, shivering and crying. Such a small and fragile creature that needed protection.

“Thank you,” your whisper completely melted Daryl’s heart.

You were sitting silently for several minutes which seemed like an eternity. There was only him, and you were caged in his warm hug, sitting on the ground and hearing cricket sounds. This was enough for you to finally calm down. His body warmth and his natural scent mixed with tobacco and hand strokes were so soothing that it made you feel safe. You closed your eyes, relaxing into his hug.

“Talking about Merle. Could I ask him to find me a tent then?” you asked in a sleepy voice.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm. I’ll ask. And ya can sleep in mine today if ya want. I’ll be at Merle’s,” the archer’s low voice vibrating in his chest where your head was leaning made you feel dizzy.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you raised your head, aligning too closely with the man’s face, as his brain didn’t work out to lose the hug quickly. You met his crystal blue eyes, and his hot breath near your lips. Daryl, feeling butterflies in his stomach, forced his arm to loosen the hug so the awkwardly small distance became longer.

“Ya need ta eat and sleep, Y/N,” Daryl stood up on his feet and offered you his hand. You laid your arm in his and stood up clumsily, almost losing your balance. Daryl held you by your bicep. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“I’ll eat tomorrow, want just to sleep,” Daryl nodded, and you both walked towards the camp.

“Daryl,” you gently grabbed his hand, making him look at you.

“Wha’?”

“Can we get around the camp?” you looked up at him sheepishly, leaving his arm. “I don't wanna see either Shane or Lori now,” Daryl nodded in response, and you walked in another direction.

When you approached the archer’s tent, Daryl kneeled and unzipped it to take a blanket and make sure it would be cozy enough for you to sleep.

“Here it is,” the archer stood for a moment looking at you, waiting for you to get inside the tent.

“Thank you,” you replied in a sheepish voice.

“Stop it, please, ‘s nothin’,” Daryl felt uncomfortable as you were too thankful for such simple things, as he thought. In reality, he hadn’t just gotten used to it as no one had ever said these words to him.

“Good night,” Daryl whispered gently.

“Good night, Daryl,” you smiled at him and got inside the tent.

—

You woke up quite early when the sunlight was only showing on the horizon. The morning was quite cold because of the forest and water nearby. The air was so humid that it was hard to breathe in.

You covered yourself with a blanket and headed to Lori and Carl’s tent to grab your bag where your essentials were. You made it successfully without much noise and headed back. You put your bag on the ground and went nearby to find some wood and stones to set a small fire.

After the preparations, you took the jezve out of the bag with a coffee package and a bottle of water left from the previous brewing. Should be enough for two. You put some coffee in a jezve, poured some water, and put it on the fire.

When the coffee was brewing, you had a look at the camp which was still sleepy. You heard the sound of footsteps on the dry leaves and turned around to see Daryl walking out of the forest. You met his gaze, which made you smile gently. He was coming up to you, biting his lower lip and holding a flower in his right hand.

“Good morning, Daryl,” you said silently and put out two small cups to pour the coffee.

“Morning,” he sat in front of you with a grumpy face as he was too nervous and gave you the flower. “Sorry for being an asshole, Y/N.”

You chuckled and took the flower, tucking it behind your ear and giving him a cup in turn. “That’s okay, Daryl,” you replied, blushing, as he was so freaking cute, and it made you smile wider.

Daryl held the cup and wasn’t quite brave enough to look up at you. “Didn’t know I deserved this,” his gaze still somewhere on the ground.

“You are always welcome here until supplies stop,” Daryl finally looked at you, seeing you smiling. He blushed a bit and chuckled in response. You both felt so calm and relaxed.

“Morning little birdies,” Merle’s voice hit you both. You saw him going out of the tent, stretching his muscles after the night's sleep.

“Morning. Coffee?” you replied calmly, smiling while noticing how Daryl’s expression changed, the reason of which you didn’t get.

“Nah, thanks,” Merle replied to you and grinned at his brother, messing up his hair. Daryl jerked at the touch. “Got some business today. Looking for a tent for some stunning lady. But it can be unnecessary till she lets me know she could stay in mine before I go,” the man winked at you before you choked on the coffee.

“Merle,” Daryl almost growled at his brother.

“Wha’? If yer a pussy who cannot stay with a hottie in a tent, god knows I won’t miss the chance.”

“Merle,” the archer’s voice started having furious tones.

“Jus’ kiddin’ lil brother, keep calm,” Merle patted Daryl’s shoulder. “But if you change your mind…” the man paid attention to you still coughing.

“Almost died,” you cleared your throat, wiping the tears. “You’d better invite me for a date first,” you exhaled, hoping the spasms relieved. Merle sighed and walked up to you.

“If the younger wastes time, I promise, ‘ll do this,” the man took your hand and pecked it, looking into your eyes. “Have a good one, princess.”

You were watching Merle go away and then looked at Daryl, who was looking on the ground, already holding a cigarette and fidgeting his fingers.

“Daryl, are you okay?” you asked the man whose mood changed drastically compared to what he had before. The archer simply nodded and stood up.

“I’ll be tomorrow, want ta check another perimeter further from ‘ere. Maybe I‘ll find somethin’,” he mumbled, taking his crossbow.

“Take care, Daryl,” he looked at you, admiring you sitting in his blanket with the flower tucked behind the ear. Your eyes pierced his with an exhausted look. The archer nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, and walked away.

—

You were helping Carol in the kitchen. The woman couldn’t hide her happiness seeing you around, telling how nervous she was. You were just shyly chuckling in response, also feeling awkward as Shane and Lori were passing by you time after time. Sometimes Carl was trying to talk to you, showing you the pictures he drew with Sofia, and you were happy to talk to him, but Lori always called him, finding a new reason every time.

“Is it me or she doesn’t want you to communicate?” Carol asked silently, standing beside you to cut a few vegetables.

“You’re right,” you replied, glancing at the woman who was sitting near Carl, who was reading out loud.

Your attention was caught by a new sports car that arrived at the camp, making so much noise. Shane already ran up to the car, seeing it was Glenn, happy like a kid finding a new toy.

Then a van arrived at the camp. People around seemed cautious until they saw your group going out. You smiled with relief.

“Carol, I’ll be later. Maybe my new tent has arrived,” the woman nodded to you, and you went to the van almost running. Reaching out to the side of the driver's seat, you saw Merle was missing.

“Where’s Merle?” your voice got an anxious tone, your eyes roaming between people to find the answer when suddenly you saw another man wearing a sheriff's uniform going out of the car. “No way,” the air was caught in your throat as if you forgot how to breathe. “Rick!” you whispered.

“Y/N,” the man’s hoarse voice hit you, causing tears of happiness. You jumped into his embrace, caging him in your arms. Here he is, safe and alive as if nothing had happened before.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” your voice is trembling because of the tears washing your face. The man tugged you closer, his hand on the back of your head.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered and turned his head to see if there are Lori and Carl when you felt his heart started almost jumping out of his body. You relieved the hug and saw Rick going towards Carl, already running to him. Shane standing near the sports car turned pale.

“Where’s Merle?” you repeated the question, seeing T-Dog and Andrea hesitating to answer.

“There was a problem in Atlanta. We needed to cuff him. He was behaving dangerously,” T-Dog mumbled, wiping the sweat appearing on his forehead.

“What?” you silenced. “How could you..?” You couldn’t find any words, feeling the emotions boiling in your chest.

“We didn’t have a choice,” Andrea’s voice caught your attention.

“What the hell does it even mean?”

Your blurred vision started to be clear when you saw yourself already screaming at Glenn, asking him to give you keys.

“Y/N,” Rick was coming up to you, “What’s the problem?”

“You cuffed a person in the city full of walkers, are you serious?” you were quickly cut off by Shane chuckling.

“Rick, don’t pay attention. She’s just hanging out with him and his brother.”

“Mind your own business, Shane,” you barked in response.

“Rick, should we cuff her as well? She absolutely went nuts without her pills,” you made several running steps toward Shane when felt Rick’s hands gripping you tightly.

“What did you just say?” you yelled at the man, trying to free yourself from Rick.

“One fool makes many. Ah, no, two fools.”

“Hey, hollyrolly, which part of 'Mind your own business' didn’t you get?” you barked in response to Shane, whose facial expression turned furious.

“Shut up, you both!” Rick shouted, “Y/N, let me explain,” the sheriff cupped your face so that you could see him and listen.

< Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 >

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