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dixons-sunshine · 1 month

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Snitches Get Stitches | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Things were going great between you and your boyfriend. You adored each other and everyone in the trailer park could see how perfect you were for one another. Well, almost everyone. Daryl's brother and father seemed to feel otherwise.

Genre: Fluff, Angst.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual comments, Merle being an asshole, Daryl's father is a warning himself, abuse.

Word count: 2.2k

Requested by anon.

A/n: I created a little universe :) I didn't think people would like my young!Daryl stories so much, so thank you! I'm gonna start labeling my young!Daryl fics SSHD if it's part of that universe.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

It was late in the afternoon. The people in the trailer park were beginning to prepare to settle down for the night. Parents were calling their kids inside and people were returning from their jobs. However, beyond the trailer park and in the woods that surrounded it, you and Daryl were seated on the ground, basking in the peacefulness of the wilderness.

“Okay... I spy with my little eye, something blue.”

Daryl hummed and scanned his surroundings. “Tha' flower?” he guessed, nodding towards the flowers in front of you.

“Nope,” you shook your head with a grin.

“The berries?” he guessed again, pointing towards the bush holding the aforementioned berries.

“Try again,” you said with a smile, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Daryl wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and tighter against his side. He rested his chin on top of your head. “The sky?”

“No.”

“Then wha' s'it?” he asked.

“Your eyes,” you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss against his jaw.

Daryl faked an annoyed groan, but the small smile on his face betrayed his true emotions. “Tha' ain't fair. I can't see my own eyes.”

“It still counts,” you shrugged.

“Whatever ya say, sunshine,” Daryl replied with a roll of his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. “S'my turn now, righ'?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Alrigh', then. I spy somethin' beautiful,” he said, placing a kiss to the side of your head.

You smiled at him. “Don't use my methods against me, Dixon. Is it me?”

“Ain't anythin' more beautiful here. 'Course it's ya.”

“You're cheesy, Dar,” you giggled, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

Daryl smiled softly at the action, his heart fluttering in his chest. He placed a kiss on top of your head. “Only fer ya, pretty girl.”

You laughed softly before focusing on the flower Daryl pointed to a few moments prior. You withdrew from his hold and got up, picking it from the ground before sitting down in front of your boyfriend. You held the flower up to his face and smiled.

“It matches your eyes,” you said softly, your eyes flickering between the flower and Daryl. “But your eyes are still more beautiful.”

Daryl ducked his head as a blush spread over his cheeks. You smiled and reached to cup his cheek in your hand, gently urging him to look at you. His eyes met yours, and time stopped for a moment. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, before he acted on his urge and leaned in to kiss you fervently.

You instantly reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Daryl's hand came to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer. The two of you were lost in the moment, and the kiss would've gone on forever, had it not been for the fact that air was still a priority.

You pulled away first. You leaned your forehead against his and smiled, your breathing heavy from your previous actions. Daryl's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb softly caressing the skin. However, the sweet, tender moment was interrupted when the two of you heard a rustle in the grass behind you.

Startled, you turned around in the direction of the sound, your eyes scanning your surroundings nervously. However, Daryl only placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, turning your attention back to him.

“Dun' worry. S'jus' a squirrel,” Daryl assured you, pointing up at a tree where a squirrel was seated, curiously watching the two of you.

You sighed in relief. “Sorry. I don't know why I'm so jumpy. It's not like it's the first time we've come out here.”

Daryl shook his head in dismissal. “S'alrigh'. Ya dun' have to explain yerself to me,” he reassured you, before getting up and offering his hand to you. “C'mon, tha' was probably a sign we should be headin' back. S'gettin' late.”

You took his hand and allowed him to pull you up. You interlaced your fingers and together the two of you made the short journey back to the trailer park. Sooner than you would've liked, you and Daryl were stood in front of your trailer. You turned to face him and gently cupped his cheek, your eyes filled with worry.

“My offer still stands, by the way. You can stay over. My mom won't mind,” you told him.

Daryl shook his head. He brought his hand up to grab your hand that rested on his cheek, kissing the back of your hand before letting it go.

“Nah, s'alrigh'. I've been stayin' over a lot recently. My old man's gettin' suspicious, and I dun' need him findin' out 'bout us. I dun' wanna risk the chance tha' he might hurt ya,” he replied, pursing his lips.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded, your heart beating faster in worry at the thought of Daryl having to return home to that sad excuse of a father. The two of you had been together for a good number of months and you had yet to officially meet his father, and you doubted that you ever would—and that was okay by you. You doubted if you could have a civil conversation with the man who hurt the guy you loved so badly, so Daryl's apprehension of you meeting his father was more than alright by you.

“Okay. Try to be safe, alright?” you responded, taking a step towards him. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled softly and leaned in to place a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. “I love ya, too,” he said when he pulled back, caressing your cheek softly one more time before turning around and slowly walking back towards his trailer home. You glanced at his back one more time before descending up the trailer steps and into your home, shutting the door behind you.

Unbeknownst to you or Daryl, the older Dixon brother had come to ask his younger brother's assistance in one of his escapades. He had waited on one of the benches in the trailer park for Daryl to make himself known, knowing that he made himself scarce from home during the day and only returned later in the day. But Merle was extremely surprised when he saw Daryl walk you back to your home, and even more surprised that the two of you had exchanged a kiss.

Merle hopped up from the bench and onto his motorcycle, speeding off into town to find a payphone. Merle wanted to confront his brother about you, but there was no way in hell that he was going to enter that godforsaken trailer ever again. A phonecall would have to do.

—

In the Dixons' trailer, the loud ringing from the phone interrupted the tense silence. Daryl, not wanting the phone to wake up his drunk and passed out father, quickly sprung up from his bed and darted out of his room and into the narrow hallway to answer the phone.

“Hello?” he whispered into the phone, his eyes nervously darting to his father that was passed out on the couch in front of the television.

“Hey there, Darylina. Mighty glad it was ya tha' answered.”

Daryl's jaw clenched at the sound of Merle's voice. “Merle,” he angrily grumbled into the phone, his hand gripping the cord of the phone. “Wha' the hell do ya want?”

Merle's laughter could be heard from the other line. “Now tha' ain't no way to talk to yer big brother, boy. Have a tad more respect, why dun' ya, huh?”

“Wha' do ya want?” Daryl repeated in frustration.

“Jus' thought I'd tell ya tha' I swung by earlier. I waited my whole life away waitin' fer ya to get back. Got quite the show when ya did.”

“Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl inquired, confusion evident in his voice.

“Saw ya kissin' tha' girl. 'M proud of ya! Ya finally grew some balls and got yerself some pussy.”

Daryl could feel his blood run cold. His heart stopped beating for a moment and his eyes widened in shock. Merle had seen him with you. He was going to make your life a living hell now, more so than when you were just Daryl's friend.

“Cat got yer tongue, Darylina? Dun' go all quiet on me now, boy. Now tell me, is tha' pretty face any good in bed? She looks the type tha' knows wha' she's doin'. Probably fucked every guy in tha' trailer park fer all ya know, and yer jus' another one on her long list,” Merle taunted, a cruel laugh escaping his lips.

Daryl felt his blood boil. “Dun' talk 'bout her like tha'! She ain't some piece of meat or an object, so dun' objectify her. She ain't like those women ya fool 'round with when yer high or drunk. And she's so much more than jus' a pretty face. She's smart, kind, funny and she actually cares 'bout me. She's everythin' those women ya fuck ain't, and it clearly shows.”

Merle whistled on the other end of the phone. “Wha', yer tellin' me ya actually care 'bout her? Tha' this ain't some hit and run?”

“No!” Daryl exclaimed.

“I bet Dad doesn't know 'bout her, huh? Wha' would ya do if I told on ya, baby brother?”

“Fuck off, Merle. Go to hell,” Daryl responded before hanging up, his fists clenched in anger at his older brother. Never before had Daryl been so angered by Merle that he had wanted to punch him, but he had crossed a line. He brought you, Daryl's girl, into it. That was unacceptable.

“Ya done now, boy?”

Daryl froze in place. He slowly turned around and came face to face with his father, the man having an unreadable expression on his face. Daryl cowered instantly, his eyes darting to the ground to avoid his father's piercing stare.

His father looked at him before shaking his head, a wicked chuckle escaping his lips. Daryl shut his eyes in anticipation, knowing that the first blow to his face would come soon enough.

“Ya got yerself a girl?” he asked, taking a step towards Daryl.

Daryl instinctively took a step back. “No, sir,” he said quietly, refusing to look his father in the eyes.

Then it happened. His father's fist connected with his son's face, sending Daryl reeling backwards. Daryl quickly regained his footing, his face already throbbing in pain, but he knew better than to show it. His father would only hit him harder if he did.

“Dun' lie to me, boy. Ya think 'm deaf?”

“I ain't lyin', sir,” Daryl responded. “I ain't got a girl.”

His father hummed. “Jus' someone yer screwin', then? Someone yer tryin' to knock up?”

Daryl shook his head. “No.”

That was met with another blow to the face. Every question his father asked him that could potentially reveal who you were was met with refusal and denial, which inevitably lead to another beating. Daryl's father soon grew tired, the alcohol in his system taking its toll on him. He flopped back onto the couch, soon passing out again.

Daryl's body hurt all over. He was certain that there would be prominent bruises all over his body the next day and the cuts on his face stung, blood oozing out of them. When he was sure that his father was passed out again, he quietly left the trailer and walked over to yours.

He walked to the back of your trailer to where he knew your bedroom's window was. He quietly knocked on your window, hoping that you weren't asleep yet. He was relieved when he saw your lamp flick on and heard your footsteps approach your window.

You opened your curtains and saw Daryl outside, blood trickling down his face. You gasped and opened your window, helping Daryl climb inside. You gently ushered him over to your bed and urged him to sit down, heading to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

As Daryl watched you return and start to clean up his wounds, not pressing him to tell you immediately what happened, he knew that he made the right choice. He'd take a thousand beatings if it meant keeping you safe. You were his sunshine, and he'd do anything to protect you.

Even if it meant getting hit by his father to ensure you remained anonymous.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader #young daryl dixon #young!daryl #young!daryl dixon

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 months

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Words: 4,692 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: War with the Saviors, specifically TWD S8 E13 after the battle at Hilltop Warnings: fear and anxiety, language, angst alert! Summary: You took an arrow to the shoulder during the battle at Hilltop and when the injured are sickened and turn, Daryl realizes his worst fear is going to come to pass.

“What the hell happened!?” Daryl spat, looking around at the now still corpses in the main entryway.

“I dunno,” Rick growled, spinning. “Maybe walkers got in?”

“Maybe during the fight,” Morgan echoed.

Daryl scrutinized the bodies. “These—these are all our own people though…”

Suddenly, there was a scream from upstairs and they raced up to find Carol standing over Tobin’s now silent body, blood dripping from the end of her knife.

“Are ya alrigh’?” Daryl asked, surveying the scene. Rick and Maggie stepped in beside him.

“Yeah,” gasped Carol. Her eyes were fixed on Tobin’s body. “He—he wasn’t bit. But he turned.”

They all exchanged tense and confused glances until Rick spoke. “Negan’s bat… when I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood. I just thought he’d crossed some but… maybe…”

“They have us workin’ for them again,” Maggie said. “Killin’ our own.”

“Poisoned weapons with walker blood?” Carol said. “It’s some sick biological warfare.” Her eyes drifted back down to Tobin’s pale body on the floor and her heart ached.

Daryl didn’t say another word and abruptly left the room, his boot steps receding rapidly down the hall.

“Daryl?” Carol called after him, moving to the doorway.

Rick hung his head and passed a hand over his eyes. Maggie put a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “It’s—” Her throat was tight and she had to clear it before she could get more out. “It’s Y/N,” she said quietly. “She took an arrow in the back of her shoulder.”

Carol’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God…” Her wide eyes met Maggie’s and stung with tears.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face and paced a tight circle. “And Tara too. And who knows,” he kicked out at the nearby dresser, “how many others.” He fell to cursing Negan, though he knew it wouldn’t help.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl lingered at the closed door for a long moment, staring at the wood, his hand moving to grip the door knob a couple times before falling down to his side. Finally, he grasped it and turned, pushing into the room.

You were asleep in the bed and Enid was sitting beside you. At the expression on her face, his stomach dropped through the floor. She looked worried, and had apparently been studying you. She shot up to her feet as Daryl softly closed the door behind him and stood there looking grim.

“What was all that shouting?” Enid asked.

Daryl gulped, his eyes fixed on you in the bed. “How is she?”

Enid hesitated and then returned to your side. She shook her head. “Her wound wasn’t life-threatening. But—”

“But what?” Daryl urged her to go on.

Enid looked down at your face again. “She looks pale and—I don’t know. Her breathing changed.” She glanced back up at Daryl, her brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

Daryl hesitated for one moment and then walked over to your bedside and scrutinized your face. You indeed looked ashen, and there were small beads of sweat starting to form near your hairline. His stomach churned. He met Enid’s questioning gaze and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, trying to gain control of the wild emotions threatening to crush him at that moment. “We think The Saviors did somethin’ to their weapons. Ev’rybody that got wounded last night turned.”

Enid’s eyes went back to you asleep in the bed. “No,” she breathed with horror. “Oh my God.”

Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough that the tang of copper filled his mouth. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat and did his best to appear steadfast. “Ya should go check on Tara.” His eyes strayed back to you again. “I’ve got this…”

Enid nodded, and with one final look at you and one anxious glance at Daryl, she quietly left the room.

Daryl stood at the end of the bed for a moment, watching the subtle rising and falling of the blanket over your chest. He thought it did seem a bit shallow. He slowly wandered over to the bedside and drew the chair closer, sinking down on it heavily and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his face. His brow tensed. The rising panic was returning. Your hand was lying on top of the quilt and his eyes traced the graceful curve of your fingers.

Part of him wanted to wake you, to see your eyes open and hopefully, clear. But another part of him knew he should let you sleep while you could.

It was short-lived.

Your breathing became shallower and more rapid and the clamminess of your skin increased. You stirred beneath the blanket and pushed it off, your eyes opening and a grimace passing over your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

Daryl leaned forward and you turned when you noticed him beside you, managing a tired smile. “Daryl,” you said softly, looking up at him. The corners of your eyes still crinkled even though the smile was a bit weak.

He chewed on his bottom lip. His anxiety was plain. Deep furrows were evident between his brows.

It didn’t take you long to remark on your condition on your own. You lifted a hand to wipe at the sweat on your forehead and then a shiver ran through you. He saw it clearly and tugged the blanket back up over you. “I’m sick,” you said. It was almost a question and then your eyes found his again. He saw mild confusion in them. “Daryl,” you said again. He looked so grim standing beside you. He held your eyes for only a brief moment before he felt the bubble of emotion rising up his throat and threatening to burst and he had to squeeze them shut. “What’s happened?” you asked. You reached for his hand, which was dangling at his side, and his eyes shot open again and looked at your fingertips touching his softly. He took your hand in his gently and warmed your fingers. Then his blue eyes found your ashen face again.

He felt like someone had rammed an icy blade up between his lungs and into his heart. He fought with emotion again and struggled to clear his throat enough to speak. Your eyes flickered between his, worried and puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak but then ducked his head one more time, passing his free hand over his eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. “They—the Saviors,” he started, his voice a mere whisper, “they did somethin’ to their weapons.” He swallowed down the tightness in his chest with great effort. “Ev’rybody who got hurt in the fight is either sick or—or already turned.” He waited for your reaction and forgot to breathe.

Understanding washed over your face and your expression fell, but you simply nodded. You seemed to shrink away into some depths within your eyes and Daryl was afraid he wouldn’t be able to reach you again. He fell into the seat at your bedside again and squeezed your hand. What could he say? There was nothing to say. No words would help at a time like this. You were going to die. It was that simple. And nothing he could say would fix it or make it any better. Your name caught in his throat and you looked over at him again. “I—‘m so sorry,” he said. His voice broke and the sound of it cut both of you like a scalpel. You were both wounded from this happening, and you would die, but Daryl would be left carrying that wound for the rest of his life. Why did you have to be the one to… Why couldn’t it have been him who was hurt? You of all people—it was too hard to bear. He should have been there. He should have protected you. He should have stopped it!

Your eyes grew glassy and a few tears escaped. You laced your fingers with his and gave him a sad smile, guessing his whirling thoughts. “It’s not your fault,” you told him. “They did this. It’s not your fault.”

He felt himself crumbling. “‘M so sorry,” he breathed again. He clasped your hand firmly between his and lifted it towards his mouth, but he didn’t press it to his lips, though he wanted to. His head dropped and you could tell he was struggling not to go to pieces. He was always trying to be strong, even when he didn’t need to.

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “It’s okay…”

“No, it ain’t,” he whispered back. His voice was shaky. “Nothin’ ‘bout this is okay. That bastard’s gonna pay for—”

A grimace tightened your features and your breath hitched. The sound stopped Daryl mid-sentence. He rested your hand back down on the blanket and a panicked look crossed his face. “What? What is it?”

Your eyes closed for a moment. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head against the pillow. “It’s nothing. Just—hurts a little. Aches is all. It’s okay. I’m okay…”

Daryl gulped down his emotion and regained himself. “‘M gonna be righ’ here. Ya ain’t gonna be alone. Okay?” His thumb moved against the silky skin on the back of your hand and you nodded.

“I know,” you said, managing another weak smile.

Suddenly, the door opened quietly and Enid came back in with Maggie trailing behind her. Both of you looked up.

Enid’s face fell as she readily saw your worsened condition. Maggie’s eyes filled with a glassy light as she came to stand beside Daryl.

“How’s Tara?” Daryl asked.

“She’s not sick,” Enid replied. “No sign of the fever yet.”

“Good,” Daryl said, staring back at the paleness of your hand in his.

“But we’ve got six more so far in here, and likely more outside. I sent Carol and Jesus to check on everyone, including the prisoners,” Maggie said. She bent down and stroked your hair. Her eyes filled with tears again. “‘M so sorry,” she whispered to you. “Do ya need anythin’? Anything we can do to make you more comfortable, just ask and we’ll do everything we can.”

Daryl’s head dropped and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll—‘m gonna be righ’ back,” he murmured. He met your eyes again. Your brow was furrowed and you were watching him carefully. “‘M gonna be back in just a minute. I promise,” he said softly.

The chair made a harsh noise as he stood up and your eyes tracked him all the way out the door.

Out in the hall, Daryl put some distance between himself and your room, striding down to the end of the hall and standing at the window, staring out at the beginnings of dawn just starting to tickle the deep blue sky with shots of pink and yellow. His fists clenched and his nails cut in little red crescent moon marks on his palms. How the fuck was the sun still coming up when you were laying in a bed dying? It felt like nothing should go on as normal ever again. He suddenly kicked out at the tall wooden cabinet beside him and it rocked and wobbled. And then he broke down. His head dropped and it was all he could do not to scream in agony at the painful chasm in his chest, sticking between his lungs and growing larger and larger as you paled and ached in that bed. Tears poured down his face and he pressed his forehead to the coolness of the glass in front of him.

He startled as a hand landed lightly on his shoulder and he hurriedly mopped his face, but when he turned he knew Maggie had already seen his overwhelming distress and grief. His shoulders shuddered as he gasped in a ragged breath and he shook his head. He saw his own pain, or some version of it, reflected on her face, and he thought of Glenn.

She only nodded and pulled him into a hug briefly. He sniffled and managed to get his breaking under control again. “Go on and be with her again. Enid and I will look after the others. Listen—when it’s time to say goodbye—”

He nodded. “I’ll send somebody to get ya’ll,” he croaked out. He mopped at his damp face again and pulled in a breath.

“Daryl, if you haven’t already, you need to tell her,” Maggie said. And with that, she headed downstairs.

Daryl took a few more deep breaths, steeled himself, and rushed back to your room. Enid gave you a kind smile and released her hold on your hand and quietly took her leave. Daryl swallowed hard and came to sit beside you again. Your eyes followed him across the room.

Your skin was feverish and he could see it making your hair and clothes damp. Had those dark circles been beneath your eyes when he’d stepped out? How long was he gone? How many minutes? It couldn’t have been more than a few, and yet you looked far worse… He got up and went to a pitcher and basin on the chest of drawers and poured in some water. Pulling out the bandana he always carried, he dunked it into the bowl and carried the whole thing over to the nightstand.

You watched him swirl the cloth in the water and wring it out. He pressed it to your forehead and it was cool. Your eyes were still trained on him. He knew you’d likely be able to tell why he’d stepped out of the room. “Here. Drink a little water if ya can,” he said, helping you with a glass Enid had brought.

You swallowed thickly and he set it aside again. “Are you alright?” you asked him. Your voice sounded thin.

He let out a dry laugh as he refreshed his bandana in the water again and dabbed at your neck. “Yer askin’ me that?” he drawled.

“Daryl,” you said softly, and your hand came up to grip his wrist, surprisingly strong. He met your eyes again and yours flickered between his.

He bit down on his bottom lip hard, trying to fight back the tidal wave and scream in his chest. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at you. Your hand floated back to the bed and the place your fingers had been felt hot. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No,” he said. “I ain’t alrigh’. And I dunno if I’ll—if I will be.”

A shiver ran through you and Daryl tossed his bandana back down in the bowl and helped you pull the blankets up to your chin. You sighed and your eyes shut for a long moment. Daryl was afraid they wouldn’t open again, but they did. And when you looked straight at him, they seemed clearer somehow, and you smiled at him again despite the devastation written all over his face.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” he asked. There was a rasp to his voice.

“You,” you breathed. “Just you.”

He ducked his head, listening to each of your breaths, analyzing them for any change. He was far too aware of his knife on his hip.

“I need you to promise me something,” you said.

“Anythin’,” he nodded, leaning in.

“Don’t let this consume you. Please. Negan’s taken enough. Don’t end up one of the casualties too. You have so much good in you. Don’t let him take that away.”

He stared at you for a long moment and then suddenly stood up and leaned over you. His rough fingers brushed gently at your hair and then clasped your face. In that moment, maybe some trick of the changing light, but he thought you looked less ashen. He saw more color in your lips and in your cheeks. Your eyes were bright.

He kissed you then. His lips landed flush against the soft pillow of yours, and it was tender and wanting and desperate and soft all at the same time. He tried to put everything he wanted to say into that kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but both of you mourned the separation, felt the profoundness of that connection as it had shifted your whole world. He sank back down at your bedside and grabbed your hand in his again, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He refused to take his eyes off you now.

A smile grew slowly on your face and though your eyelids were heavy, the outer corners of your eyes smiled too, like they always did. “How’d you know that was on my bucket list? ‘Kiss Daryl Dixon.’”

He brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers and shook his head at you.

“I can die happy now,” you said.

“I shoulda told ya every damn day… I thought—I thought we had more time.” His voice broke on the last word.

“So did I,” you agreed. “Life’s a motherfucker like that,” you said dryly.

He almost laughed. “What ‘m tryin’ to say is I—ya know, I—” The words stuck in his chest. He couldn’t seem to get them out no matter how much he wanted to. I’ve been in love with you almost since I met ya.

“I know,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to say it, Daryl. I felt it too.” Your eyes closed again and you sighed, another grimace passed your face as your joints and muscles throbbed. “I’m not sure I can stay awake much longer,” you murmured. “I’m so tired.” You forced your eyes open again. “Would you lay with me? Please?”

Daryl’s chest ached so intensely he thought he would die of it. “Course I will.”

He came around to the other side of the bed and climbed on, scooting over toward your side until your body was almost against his. “C’mere,” he drawled, and he gently looped his arm underneath you and pulled you toward him. You felt featherlight in his arms. You laid tucked in against his body and closed your eyes. This close to you, he could easily hear your every breath, feel every shudder of your body, feel the fever and the chills—but he could also feel the shape of you, your weight, breathe your smell. Your head rested against his shoulder and nuzzled toward the crook of his neck.

“I’m so tired,” you said again, sighing. He could feel your breath on his skin. The silence stretched and his rough fingers drew absent shapes on the bare skin of your arm. Your weight grew heavier against him. “I want you to know… it’s alright if you can’t do it. At the end… It doesn’t have to be you. I need you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. Someone else can…” you trailed off.

He gulped and nodded. “I’mma be righ’ here.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your eyes were closed. “I love you…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love ya too...” His voice broke, but you didn’t hear it. You were already asleep.

He didn’t know how long he had laid there with you. He was still scrutinizing your every breath and every moment, waiting for the horrific change to take place, or waiting for you to awake in agony as the sickness progressed. But so far, you just slept on. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to, anyway.

Eventually, the door creaked open and Rick stepped in barely over the threshold before he froze, seeing Daryl there with you on the bed. They locked eyes for a moment, Rick’s eyes grew glassy and he gave a nod, but then he immediately retreated. No one should intrude on that scene. And he made sure no one would, unless they were called for.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was staring at the bright sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. He had no concept of time as he lay there with you asleep against him. Every moment felt agonizingly long and cruelly short at the same time. He was watching the dust particles floating in the currents of air when you stirred. Your hand landed flush to the center of his chest and you turned on your side almost curling into him. He gently took your hand in his and ran his thumb over your soft skin.

Your stirred again and let out a sigh, stretching beside him. Your eyes blinked open. “Daryl…” you said suddenly.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Yeah. ‘M righ’ here.”

“I—I know.” You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand, still angled in toward him. “Daryl, look at me.”

He did. Your eyes were wide and surprised, but beyond that you looked… like yourself. The color was back in your face, in your lips. Your eyes were bright and clear. You looked well. Your name slipped past his lips.

“I’m not sick,” you said with disbelief. “I don’t feel—I mean, my bones felt like glass before. And—I’m not hot or cold. I—”

Daryl was sitting up now too, staring at you bewildered. He clasped your face and pressed his hand to your forehead. You didn’t feel feverish. Your skin wasn’t clammy. “Ya ain’t sick…” he drawled, the same disbelief dripping from every word. “Ya ain’t—” A laugh bubbled out of you as he popped up onto his knees, kneeling in front of you on the bed, staring with bafflement. “How—how?”

You shook your head. “I—I don’t know…” you stammered, your heart racing. “I felt—I was dying. I felt it. And now—I still feel like I got hit by a truck, and my shoulder hurts like a bitch but—I’m not sick.”

Daryl took your face in both of his hands and his lips crashed down onto yours. You arched into him and kissed him back, relishing the feeling of his hands drifting down to your waist and gently pressing on your lower back to pull you in against him. He still looked dumbfounded when the two of you broke apart, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I gotta—we gotta—” Daryl vaulted himself off the bed, leaving you kneeling in the middle of it, surrounded by the rumpled blankets. He ripped the door open and shouted out into the hallway. “Maggie! Enid!” He turned back to stare at you, his chest heaving as he seemed to have lost his breath. A stampede of footsteps answered and soon Enid, Maggie, Rosita, Rick, Michonne, Carol—even Tara—were bursting in looking grim and worried. Seeing their expressions, Daryl realized they all thought it was time to say goodbye to you. He hurried to correct their assumption. “She—she ain’t sick. Look! Her fever’s gone and she—she ain’t sick anymore.”

All eyes drifted to you sitting upright on the bed, almost looking as if nothing had happened to you at all.

Enid stepped forward, shock written on her face, and you could only smile as she reached a hand out and pressed the back of it to your forehead. She snapped around to look at everyone else again, a teary smile on her face. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she said, shaking her head.

A whoop went up through the room and soon nearly everyone was hugging you and kissing your cheek, patting you on the back as if you’d done anything at all consciously. But Daryl simply stood by the door, leaned up against the wall watching the scene with a teary smile on his face that wasn’t budging. As the last of your family hugged you, your eyes connected with his again and you felt a shock of electricity run up your back and butterflies erupted in your chest.

“I—I don’t understand how this is possible!” Carol laughed happily.

Rick was shaking his head, smiling.

“Has anyone ever heard of this happening before?” Rosita asked. “I mean, should we still be worried?”

Enid shrugged and shook her head, looking at a loss. “Well, it’s not the same as a bite. It seems like maybe her body was able to fight off the infection.”

Rick rubbed a thoughtful hand over his face. “Maybe it’s like how some people get sick from gutting up the first time, some people the twentieth, and some people never do.”

“Some combination of immune system and dosage maybe,” Maggie said thoughtfully, her eyes still glassy with happy tears.

“Well, whatever it is, thank God. We needed another win,” Michonne said.

Enid nodded and looked back at you on the bed. Daryl was still leaned up against the wall by the door. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. “She may not have a fever anymore but I don’t want to push it. Back in bed,” she said, grabbing hold of the blankets again. “I want you to rest. Your body has been through a lot.”

You moved a little gingerly laying down again, realizing now that your shoulder that had taken the poisoned arrow did still hurt a lot. “I’ll rest… feels like I’m still trying to shake the worse flu of my life.” Exhaustion was settling back over you again. The adrenaline had waned. But your cheeks and lips still had a healthy, rosy glow.

Enid filled the glass on the nightstand with fresh water again for you and instructed everyone to leave so you could sleep. Everyone listened, except Daryl. And somehow, everyone knew he was the exception.

He shut the door softly behind Tara as she went out and the two of you were alone again. He wandered back over to the bedside and you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes growing tired again.

“Are you still going to keep watch over me?” you asked him.

He nodded. “Mhm… now and every damn day of yer life. If you’ll have me that is…” he said a little abashedly, ducking his head. “Actually, ‘m gonna do that whether ya want me to or not.”

You smiled. “Can you do that from in this bed again? Please?”

“Are ya kiddin’?” He climbed in beside you again and you rolled toward him, tucking yourself into his body. Your breathing was strong and steady; no sign of the ragged, shallow respiration that had plagued you overnight.

“You want to know what I think saved me?” you asked, resting your head on his chest, your arm draped over him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, now feeling his own exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket. Now that the terror and devastation and fear and grief had receded, he was drained.

“I think you cured me. With that kiss,” you said, and he could hear a smile in your voice. “Love saved us. The universe decided it couldn’t separate us.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale. “I ain’t magic. Pretty sure this ain’t a fairy tale.”

You sighed and nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “I’m starting to think it might be,” you whispered sleepily.

Daryl’s cheek pressed against the top of your head. He tugged you in more snugly and paused thoughtfully. “Well… I do kinda gotta agree with ya there. Now, sleep,” he hushed you. “I dun wanna risk anythin’. Ya need rest.”

“You too,” you said with a yawn. “And now we’ve got time.”

#daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon reader insert #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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misguidedasgardian · 10 months

Text

The course of Nature, part (2)

First Part

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, mentions of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary), talking of periods and pregnancy, thoughts about abortion, sensitive content regarding pro-choice… SMUT, a soft mommy kink, rather pregnancy kink, a little biting and a little blood, Negan being a horny jackass.

might miss some warnings.

TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7)

Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is

“Why don’t you want to be my wife?” he asked her, amused

“Negan, I know you are like a rabbit or a jackass… you are horny and you hump the first thing you see, but I’m like a cool Eagle, or a wolf… I mate for life” she answered simply. And it was so clever he wasn’t even mad, he chuckled darkly watching her intently, hoping to burn the shape of her body and her face in his mind forever

“You are acting like someday I’m going to get bored of you and just let you leave” he whispered in her ear. He felt her getting nervous, the small hairs on the back of her head standing to attention and goosebumps in her arms. But still she acted like he didn’t cause her incredible fear.

“You might” she whispered

“Believe me, I will not” he answered back

You didn’t want to have anything to do with the other wives of Negan, really, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, you didn’t want to make friends, you just wanted to stay in your room and most importantly, stay fucking alive and not make it worse for your friends in Alexandria

But…

When weeks passed and you didn't get your period. You were quickly losing your mind

It was hard to keep track of the calendar in the fucking zombie apocalypse. All the electronics went to shit… but you guessed that outside in some place of the sactuary, someone might have a fucking clue.

Your period was like a swiss watch, you were never late, it was like clockwork, so you had a sense of when it was coming, so now, you left your room looking frantically for a calendar, or something

The wives seemed surprised to see you, but somehow relieved, since he took you, Negan never left your side, he didn’t spend the night with any of them, you thought they’d be angry, or jealous, but the looks on their faces told you they were grateful, and relieved.

Even though Negan was proud to say he had killed rapists and didn’t tolerate the awful act, he did use coercion to get what he wanted, he used it on you, and probably all of them as well. Yes he did give them a choice but… “Be my wife or I’ll bash yours or your boyfriend's brains” didn’t seem much of a choice to you.

“Hey, we have been wanting to meet you” only two of them approached you, a redhead, and a smaller girl, with dark hair and and bangs, “I’m Frankie, this is Tanya”

“(Y/N)” You answered, “Sorry I was hiding in my room” you explained

“It’s understandable” she drew an apologetic smile. There was an awkward silence, in which they expected you to say something, and all the way around

“I was wondering…” you started, “if any of you had a calendar, or something… a way to tell what day it is?” you explained. They all looked at eachother. The one you knew her name was Frankie took your hand softly and led you to the wall where there was this old calendar

“It’s the 17th” she said softly. You just nodded, confirming your fears, you were late, two fucking weeks late. You drew a shaky breath, tears burning the back of your eyes.

“Shit” you whispered, debating internally if you should share your fears or not

“What’s going on?” she asked you, “you can tell us”

“Yeah” a blonde one that seemed a little out of it also came close to you, “we are so grateful to you” she whispered with a reassuring smile, “For… distracting him…”

“I’m late” you choked out. You heard them gasp loudly, “I don’t know… I’m two weeks late and I feel like shit, I’m probably…”

“pregnant” murmured the blonde one

Frankie must have known how you felt. Maybe they all did. She placed her soft hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and it worked. You draw a shaky breath, wiping the tears with the back of your hand

“What is he going to do?” you asked, “Is he going to… push me down the stairs or something?”

“We don’t know” she whispered, “we are the ones that take care of it” she explained, “he had never express his want to… have kids”

“He is the one that makes sure we use contraceptives” the black haired woman said

“I’ll go with you to the doctor” Frankie said, and you just nodded, “It’s the only way to be sure”. grabbing the hand she offered you tightly, and under the sad eyes of all of Negan’s wives, you left the room.

“I’m terrified” you murmured, when you came face to face with a man you knew they called Fat Joey

“Hey joey” greeted Frankie, and he eyes you both suspiciously

“Negan wouldn’t want you to walk alone” he said, “specially if you are terrified” you wanted to swallow your own words

“We are fine, Fat Joey” Frankie muttered

“Let me escort you” you squeezed her hand, but he walked behind you silently in your journey to the doctor’s office

You managed to shake him off of you in the consult, you closed the door on his face.

“Good morning ladies, what can I do for you?”, this doctor gave you the creeps, but he was the only one around so…

Frankie gave you a reassuring smile, nodding, so you turned to the doctor

“I think I’m late”, you whispered, he looked at you and nodded

“Very well, I have a pregnancy test you could take”

It was the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of your entire life, and you were living in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, go figure

It took less than 10 minutes for the two lines to appear, and you truly felt like you were going to lose it. Frankie didn’t say anything, neither did you, but she hugged you tightly and you hugged her back

“Everything is going to be alright, it’s still early”, she whispered sweetly in your ear, caressing your hair, you only nodded, it was true, it was only a couple of weeks… Frankie looked at the doctor

“Is there anything you could give her?”, she asked. The doctor looked at you and then at her.

“No”

“That’s a lie”, she accused

“Yes”, he said simply

“You have to do something!” you demanded, “Give me something…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything without Negan’s permission”

“WHAT?” you argued, “It’s my body…”

“It’s Negan’s baby” he said seriously, “I can’t do anything or give you anything without him knowing” He perfectly could, but he had clear instructions from Negan, and he valued his own life more than yours.

. . .

Negan knew something was wrong when he passed the lounge where his wives were and they all looked at him in terror.

Did someone die?

Did someone escape? or tried to?

He hadn't punished someone publicly this week, so he knew this wasn’t that. And if someone actually had died, betrayed him or escaped, he would have known by now, so, what was it? He looked directly at Frankie, she averted her gaze, but her eyes looked at the wall to the right. He just nodded, silently, and kept walking until he found himself at your door. He knocked twice, but you didn’t answer, so he just went in.

He found you with your back turned to the door, in a fetal position on the bed

“Hey sunshine” he greeted carefully, and he saw you flinch. You turned, slowly, and he was surprised to see you crying. Did you find out about all the things he had done in Alexandria? No, impossible, “What is going on?” he asked, you were there, in front of him, so you didn’t tried to scape, and you didn’t kill anyone so he wondered what got you so fucking scared of him right now

“I’m sorry” you whispered, “Negan” you called, “I love you” oh how much he could have given to hear you say those words, but the way you say them, it was desperate, you sounded like Amber, you didn’t mean it, in fact, you wanted to calm him down

“What is going on?” he repeated the question, harder this time, making you flinch raising your shoulders and trying to hide between them

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, you dropped the revelation and then you wanted to bend over your own body to protect yourself from him, and that is what kind of broke him. “I’m sorry”

Of all the reactions he may had that you played in your mind, him chuckling and smiling widely wasn’t one of them

“You are not mad?” you asked back, and he shook his head

One of the most scary things about Negan is that he was totally unpredictable, you could never guess what’s coming

In one scenario he grabbed you by the arm and threw you down the stairs, and then made sure to beat you up until there was nothing left inside of you. In another he’d let the doctor get his hands on you, but you never, ever, thought he’d be happy about it

“Aw honey, this is wonderful news!” you jumped when he yelled that, opening his arms in celebration, he never stopped looking at you, “An heir!” he continued, “A little savior, a little Negan or Lucille” you shook in your place when he called his deceased wife’s name

And suddenly, you were more scared.

“A little Lucille?” you muttered, he had told you everything about his late wife, and the thought he might be using you to relive some weird fantasy chilled your bones. Suddenly you felt your eyes wet with tears, and not being able to stop them, fat, bitter tears started running down your cheeks, “No…” you whined. His face dropped when he saw how you started to lose it, you started to hyperventilate

“Hey, sweetheart, I need you to relax”

“You have to talk to the doctor, so he’ll give me something…” you tried to explain

“Why would I do that, baby?” he asked

“I can’t have your baby” you whined, wiping your tears

“Why the hell not?” he asked, this time his face became so serious so fast you shook in fear

“Negan…” you called, expecting him to understand, “please” he softened his gaze on you, with his gloved hand he caressed your cheek as he smiled sweetly at you, but that didn’t calm you, he was unpredictable and you’ll do well in remembering that. He leaned in and kissed you softly, gently, as he was scared of breaking you

“You are going to be an amazing mother sweety” he whispered against your lips and you only whined, “anything you want, everything is yours!” he announced, standing up, “I’ll tell all of them, to bring you anything you could need”

“You are going to let me carry this baby?” you asked

“Of course”, he said simply

“Please Negan”, you whispered, “I can’t bring a child into this world”

“It will have hundreds of people that will take care of him”, he said, “we are in the sanctuary baby”

“Negan please”, you begged, he just say on the edge of the bed, cradling your face with his big hands

“This a good thing baby”, he whispered, leaning in and catching your lips with his

“Negan”, you whined against his lips

“You are going to be such a good mommy”, he purred, abandoning your lips and going down your throat with heated open kisses

And you snapped out of your hornyness, you grabbed his face and pushed him off of you

“Darling..!”

“Fuck off Negan!”, you grunted, but your heated face told him your resolution wouldn’t last long, you were as horny as he was. He smiled wickedly

He knew he had chosen well, you were going to protect that baby with your life, your lioness instincts already kicking in

“C’mon mommy”, he purred, “come to daddy”

“I hate you”, you said, with no conviction in your voice

“No you don’t”

And perhaps that is what was so messed up about all of this

You were scared to death, yes, but you were also… excited

And Negan could see that

He approached you again and held you in his arms, he leaned in and again he kissed you. It was soft at first but then it turned heated, you grabbed him roughly, pulling on the hairs on the back of his neck making him grunt needily

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he mocked, you didn’t want to talk, you just took his leather jacket and threw it on the floor caresly

Another day he would have make a big fuss about it, but today he knew better

“he leaned over you, wanting to pin you down to the bed, but you didn’t let him, instead you managed to pin him down, straddling him

“Oh baby”, he purred, “or should I say… mommy?”

“Shut up”, you growled, leaning in and kissing him roughly. he immediately responded with teeth and licks of his own, but as you separated from him, you bit his lower lip until blood came up

He whined under you, not pained but horny and almost pathetic, you grind your hips against his own, feeling his cock hardening between you, giving you goosebumps

“Hormones?”, he teased, but you shushed him up, you wanted him, you needed to feel him, you needed to distract yourself from everything that has happening

You almost ripped his pants off of him, making him chuckle, setting himself comfortably on the bed, you stood up to toss your own pants away from you, and then you crawled back over him. HIs greedy hands tossed your upper clothes, and finally he had you naked all to himself. You leaned in and kissed him roughly

“Yes mommy”, he teased, and you couldn’t help but slap him, not hard, and he only smiled wickedly, “I loved this side of you baby”, he purred, placing his hands on your hips

“You are so fucking mean Negan”, you accused, “you misogynistic prick!”, but you couldn't stay angry at him, you leaned in and kissed him before he could make some snarky remark. He responded at the kiss immediately, his greedy hands caressing you all over he could, your thighs, your sides, your hips. You rubbed your pussy against his hard cock, and you couldn’t help it anymore, you needed him.

You used your hand to pumped his thick cock a few times, before impaling yourself with it

“Fuck!”, you cursed at the same time, perhaps Negan was so attracted to you because you both sounded alike sometimes

You started riding him angrily, almost like you wanted to hurt him, but that turned him on even more. You started moving your hips back and forth. and the friction in your clit almost made you loss it

“FUCK THAT’S IT BABY”, he whined, and you gasped, feeling your orgasm build incredibly quickly

“I hate you”, you cried when you cummed

“I know”, he whispered, entertained, letting you fuck him for once, admiring the goddess riding him.

But you rode him until you cummed again, finally making him finish inside of you.

You let yourself fall on top of him, as you both recuperated, he just held you, caressing your naked back

“I mean it”, he gasped

“What?”, you asked back

“I will do anything to protect you”, he promised, “I leave Rick alone, I promise, you will be a great mother, I really believe that”, you smiled, not letting him see it, of course.

. . .

“Arat” the girl was on his side on a second, that determined look in her eyes that Negan liked so much, “If something happens to me… “ he started, and she frowned, like he just spoke treason, “If this world is fucked up and for reason I fucking die and Rick the prick is still alive I want you to do something for me, ok?”

“You want me to kill him Sir?” she asked, and he chuckled

“No, I want you to take (Y/N) to him” he whispered, “without me controlling everything she is in danger, I want you to make sure she comes back to her people”

Damn, being a father does change you and your priorities

He thought with a smirk on his face and a swing of his bat

TAGLIST @neganswoman @nijiru @imvomitting @aleemendoza2425-blog @0vecam @heavenhatesme

#misguidedtwd #negan x reader #negan #negan x you #negan smut #twd negan #the walking dead

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

Text

I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.

Daryl was not so easily mollified.

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.

You weren’t afraid of him.

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.

Still, you stayed.

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.”

“Why the fuck do you even care?!”

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded.

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.

“Ya do?”

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.

A confession.

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

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babyyblues · 1 year

Text

Rescuer

Request: "Can you please do 21. "Get behind me. Now.? The reader, M/F and Daryl go on a run and they run into the reader's abusive ex. Daryl says #21 as he pushes them behind him. You can figure out how it ends. "

prompt 21: "Get behind me. Now"

Era: Prison (Mid-season 3) no spoilers

Summary: Daryl Dixion finds you all alone, and after learning about your past that reminds him of his childhood, he vows to protect you. So what happens when you run into the one who once made your life a living hell?

Word Count: 3,120

warnings: dv mentions (Slight description of violence), child abuse, twd violence and gore

A/n: OMG ITS HERE!!! I'm really excited to share this as it's my first piece for Daryl, and I hope everyone reading enjoys it. Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know if there's anything I can change to improve my writing!

The day Daryl Dixon first laid his eyes on you, he was sure he was about to watch yet another person get eaten by the undead. You were surrounded, breathing heavily as you did your best to fight off the walkers around you. Exhaustion hit you and you weren’t sure how long you could keep this up. Your eyes widened as a walker lunged at you, ready to feast on the flesh of your dirty shoulder but you breathed a sigh of relief when a bolt shot right through its brain. You let out a grunt as you turned around, shoving your dull knife repeatedly into the head of the last of the small herd, falling to the ground as even more of the smelly walker blood splattered all over your face. You stared down at the massacre, doing your best to catch your breath before looking up at the man who helped save you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice horse from the lack of use.

“You alone?” he asked, stepping toward you making you flinch and take a step back.

“Um y-yeah,” you studdered, nerves raking through your body as your eyes shifted from the crossbow in his arms to his piercing blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched your body begin to shake, his presence seemingly making you more nervous than any of the undead did. He watched as your knuckles turned white, hands trembling around the grip of your knife. Stopping in his tracks, he strapped the bow securely behind his back, placing his hands in your vision.

“ ‘M not gonna hurt ya,” he confirmed, “jus’ makin’ sure ‘m safe.” You nodded slowly in understanding, hesitating before releasing the knife.

“We have a camp bout half a mile back, jus’ need to ask you three questions ‘fore you can come.” You nodded again, waiting in silence.

“How many walkers you killed?”

“Lost count,” you murmured.

“How many people have you killed?”

“None,” you shook your head along with your answer, looking back up at the man. He nodded, looking around him before beckoning you to follow him back. After walking for what seemed like forever, your eyes landed on a prison and as ironic as it was you felt immediate relief for the walls and safety that you hoped you come from this building.

Walking into the courtyard, you felt eyes on you causing you to want to shrink into your self and if the man noticed, he didn’t say anything. You walked quickly trying your best to keep up with his long strides, following him as he walked into the building.

“Rick!” he called out, waiting for the man to come around the corner. Your eyes landed on another man, this one a bit taller and leaner, his hair sticking to his neck.

“Found ‘er alone in the woods,” he grumbled, walking away leaving you to cower in front of the man you assumed to be Rick.

“Rick Grimes,” he said holding his hand out for you to shake. You flinched at the sudden action, stumbling backward, your hand flying to grab the knife that sat in your waist, ready to defend yourself if need be.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “what’s your name?”

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n,” you answered quietly taking a deep yet shaky breath before releasing the weapon.

“Daryl said you were out there alone?” he asked, earning a nod in return.

“This whole time?” You shook your head in response, swallowing hard to find your voice again.

“Got separated from my group not too long ago,” you told him, averting your gaze to the cold floor beneath you. Rick nodded.

“Were you trying to find them?” You shook your head lightly.

“I uh- I was just trying to stay alive.” Rick studied you for a second, the room falling into silence so loud your ears began to ring.

“Well I assume you’ll want a shower and your clothes to be cleaned, I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime and then we can get you something to eat, we have plenty. I’ll have Daryl check in on you and help you get settled in if you want to stay,” he said before leading you through the cell block to the shower area.

“I’ll send someone with the clothes, gotta pump this to get the water going,” he demonstrated the process for you before leaving you alone. You took a minute to look at the space around you before shutting your eyes and taking a long deep breath.

“ ‘Scuse me,” you heard a young girl say gently. Regardless of how low her tone was, you practically jumped out of your skin at the noise.

“Sorry, I’m Beth, I just brought those clothes Rick told you about,” she rambled earning silence in return, “I haven’t been able to find a jacket for ya yet, and the shirt might be big but I’m gonna go look for a jacket for you.”

As she hurried off, you grabbed the clothing before turning back toward the shower, pulling the makeshift curtain closed, you felt the familiar sting of the tears that sat behind your eyes as you carefully stripped out of your clothing, stepping underneath the stream of lukewarm water. A hiss escaped your lips as you made your best attempt to scrub clean not only the dirt and grime that seemed to be embedded in your pores but the marks that seemed to never go away. Tears were now steadily mixing with the water, and you turned around to start the nasty and undoubtedly tiring work on your hair that had been matted to your head.

After finishing, you slipped on the clothes Rick had promised, ironically folding the dirty clothes into a neat pile before exiting the shower areas. Daryl was sitting at the table, looking up when he heard footsteps emerge.

“Took ya long enough-” his words died down on his tongue immediately as his eyes trailed across your figure. He took in the sight, a thin tee shirt hanging off your malnourished frame, deep spots of black and blue riddling the entirety of your upper body, the most gruesome being the taunting handprints that stained your throat. You looked back down, unwilling and unable to catch the piercing gaze of the man before you.

Daryl’s breathing immediately caught in his throat, he knew these weren’t normal walker dents and bruises that people are accustomed to these days. How could he not know? He knew what it was like to be beaten on by the one who swore to love you. How you were unable to leave a situation that was literally killing you. And maybe this is why Daryl had such a soft spot for you, and why this stranger, whom he didn’t know the name of, caused a sea of red to flash across his vision. His jaw clenched as he made quick work of unbuttoning the top layer of his button-ups, to hand it to you.

“Here,” he mumbled, reaching his shirt out to you, “might freeze out there.” Looking up at him slowly, you bit the inside of your cheek before grabbing the shirt, covering up your shame.

“Thank you,” you whispered yet again.

“Come on, we’ll get you settled in,” he said nodding up the stairs, intending to put you in the cell directly next to him.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, not enough for all of your bruises to fade or the nightmares to go away, and you honestly weren’t sure how you had worked your way to be as close with the front runners as you were. You had proved your strengths over and over again, going on runs with Daryl and helping out with tasks other than laundry and basic cleaning. You knew how to protect yourself, and as the trust built between you and the ones who surrounded you, you knew how important it was to protect them as well.

You weren’t much of a talker, however, they felt as if they knew enough to trust you with the more important duties such as fench work and watch. You laid your blanket onto the chilled ground of the watch tower, preparing to start your shift. As you sat, you took a deep breath, thankful for the people around you, the security the walls held, and the brief time alone you had. It hadn’t been long before you heard the door open, but you didn’t need to turn your head to see who it was. It was always Daryl, the man who you undoubtedly grew the closest to, and the one who by far knew the most about you. You shifted over slightly, giving him plenty of space to sit beside you on the blanket so you could both watch out over the fields of the prison.

“Just checkin’ in,” he mumbled as he took a seat, careful not to make any sudden movements in your presence.

“I haven’t seen anything, just the walkers on the fence-”

“On you, I mean,” he admitted quietly. Your breath caught in your throat, your teeth immediately making their way to the inside of your cheek.

“ 'M fine,” you answered, earning a grunt in response. He turned toward you, catching your gaze before softening his features. He reached out to your shoulder, his aim for the same button-up he had given you. When you flinched, he retracted his hand quickly.

“Sorry,” he swallowed, “Jus’ tryna’ make sure you’re healin’. Can I?” Your breath was unstable, but you nodded closing your eyes tightly as he reached again for the button-up, this time lowering it just enough to take a look at the bruises that were across your arms.

“Turnin’ yellow, should be gone soon,” he mumbled, taking his time to get closer and observe the ones on your neck, “this one’s gettin’ there, kinda blue.” He replaced the fabric onto your shoulder, returning to his original position.

“My dad used to beat on me, I know what that looks like,” he confided in you, looking at you again, watching the way your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to spill. You sniffled, pulling your knees to your chest.

“It was my boyfriend,” you whispered, the volume of your voice quickly leaving with the strong gust of wind that flew through the air. If Daryl didn’t still have his eyes on you, he might have missed it.

“I was so stupid.” You let your head fall to your knees, the tears falling with it as your body began to tremble.

“Don’t say that, ‘s not your fault.” You shook your head with a harsh swallow trying the calm the sharp pain you began to feel in the back of your throat.

“No, n-no. I should have known better,” you mumbled. Daryl bit his lip and his tongue, fighting the anger that rose up in his body toward the one who did this to you.

“Used to watch my dad beat my mom, guess towards the end of it I just thought it was normal then,” you spoke, your heartbeat picking up, an anxious turn in your stomach.

“So when I met Max, I was young, and he was nice. He was so nice, and he loved me. I swear he did, and then it was small at first. He started getting mad about everything when I went out with my friends or was on the phone with my mom. Fight got so bad he backhanded me-”

“Y/n you don’t have to-” your head snapped to his, your wild eyes making contact with him for the first time you met.

“He was sorry! He was!” you snapped, nodding your head crazily. You stood up, your balance questionable as hot tears ran down your flaming cheeks. Daryl got up too, ensuring that you weren’t going to fall out of the watch tower.

“He said he was sorry,” you told Daryl again before collapsing back onto the ground in a wave of sobs. Without thinking, Daryl immediately dropped with you, pulling you into his grasp as you cried providing you with the comfort he could have only dreamed of for his younger self. You let yourself fall into Daryl’s chest, grasping at his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.

Daryl sniffled from above you, biting his lip enough to taste a metallic bite on his tongue, willing himself from the tears that threatened to fall.

This was the turning point in your relationship with Daryl. You found it so easy to confide in him, you knew he understood you and he was always willing to listen. It was uncommon to find a moment where you and Daryl were separated in fact, oftentimes spending the night in each other's cells, taking watch together, and going on runs. Months passed, and your feeling for Daryl easily grew as he showed you how a man should really treat you.

It started slow, the faint passing touches, then the longer more lingering ones. The distance that began to close when you sat next to each other, the eye contact you held with each other, talking about meaningless things. The flowers he brought back from hunts, and the eventual switching from bunkbeds to just the one. Forehead kisses turned to cheek kisses, soon turned to sweet kisses that would forever be embedded on your lips and in your memories.

It was yours and Daryl’s turn to go on a supply run, the plan to go out just a bit further in the hopes the area wasn’t completely picked clean. Waiting for Daryl, you leaned against his bike, looking out into the sea of people throughout the courtyard. You heard his name before you saw him, people greeting him while on his way to you. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as he approached you.

“Morning,” he grumbled, unable to stop his smile in return to yours.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How’d you sleep?”

“All that snorin’ of yours, I barely shut an eye,” he teased earning a light shove to his shoulder. He chuckled lightly, his hand falling to your hip.

“Didn’t seem to complain when I woke up with you practically on top of me,” you quipped back, standing up fully to meet the smirk on his lips. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Come on, sunshine,” squeezing your hip before hopping on his bike. You got on behind him, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped around his torso.

“‘Right let’s go, be careful,” he reminded you. You nodded in response, reaching for your knife. You approached the first building, an old convenient store, knocking on the glass like Daryl had taught you. He glanced at you, before nodding and watching your back as you entered the door. You replaced the knife with your gun, making quick work to clear the building as Daryl followed you from behind. Your footsteps slowed as you heard a rummaging sound, Daryl catching up to you and placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Get behind me. Now,” he mumbled, raising his crossbow before making his way toward the sound. Following him closely, your eyes landed on a familiar form as the man shoved things into the backpack that was in front of him.

“Put ‘yer hands up, and drop all of your weapons,” Daryl growled, his crossbow aimed right at his head.

“Woah, woah, hey now,” the guy spoke, his hands tossing his knife away. The sound of his voice sent immediate chills down your spine, Your breath hitching as he turned to face you.

“Y/n?” he asked, taking a step toward you. You instinctively flinched, your hand gripping tightly on your gun as you took a step back. Daryl stepped towards him, his gaze unfaltering, and his crossbow coming close to his face. Max’s hands raised higher.

“Hey man, take it easy. That’s my girlfriend-”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put one of these arrows through your skull,” Daryl confronted him.

“Daryl-”

“Y/n tell him-”

“Oh, she told me plenty. Told me all about how you couldn’t keep your hands off of her. How you’re a disgusting piece of shit.” Max ignored Daryl, looking your way before snickering.

“What is this? You got yourself some kind of bodyguard? How pathetic. You lost me and like the whore you are you go and find yourself this redneck to take care of you-” he was cut off by Daryl’s crossbow dropping to the ground and his shirt being grabbed as he was forced against the wall with a thud. Daryl didn’t hesitate before, landing hard blows to his face, Max using all his strength to push Daryl away and tackle him to the ground to retaliate.

You were frozen in fear, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall. Your hand shook around your gun as you watched Daryl regain control.

“Daryl stop!” you yelled, your voice wavering. He pinned Max down, watching a bloody smile look back up at him.

“Fightin’ over her, and for what? She’s nothing but a waste of space and energy- nothin’ without a man to tell her what to do and when to do it-” Daryl saw nothing but red but before moving he heard a gunshot ring out, Max falling limp in his grip as blood poured from his head. Daryl looked back at your trembling form, the gun in your hands still pointed at Max. Your eyes were glazed over as you watched Max’s life fade away.

Daryl made his way toward you, grabbing the gun from your hand and letting it drop to the ground before pulling you into his arms. You tucked your head into his neck, the sobs releasing from your mouth as Daryl’s hand gripped your body tightly.

“Y/n, hey, look at me,” he whispered. You shook your head, his shirt tight in your grip.

“Come on sunshine, show me those pretty eyes,” he spoke lowly, separating himself from you enough to lead your chin up to look at him.

“You did what you had to do.”

“But I-“

“No buts, you did what needed to be done. ‘M proud of you,” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. You sniffled with a forced nod briefly looking over again at Max’s body before looking back at Daryl who had his hand open for yours. Picking up your weapons and stuff you deemed necessary, you made your way back to the prison, back to your home, with the person who mattered most.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fluff #the walking dead fic #the walking dead angst #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fic

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velvetcloxds · 9 months

Note

come over- more twd request for you, daryl and sunshine!reader braiding his hair and him forgetting to take it out before getting to work in the morning

OH, SUNSHINE | D.D.

word count: 1k

warnings: soft daryl my beloved, age gap, alexandria era, little suggestive at the end- not exactly as requested, also added some dbf!daryl, quickly proofread

You giggled as Daryl grunted for at least the hundredth time since he was very cruelly persuaded to take a shower with you, you being there the only thing that was convincing enough to let you wash his hair for him, a deep conditioning only allowed after the promise of letting him kiss you all over while you worked. His hair was longer than it was in the prison, very much so, and with the aid of the hair dryer his hair looked prepped for some fancy advertisement you’d have seen posted on a wall somewhere before.

“Stop that,” you cooed, the cigarette he flicked out the window long forgotten as soon as his eyes landed on you, you were sprawled out on the bed they’d assigned him, all clean and perfect in a shirt that should’ve been his, but he didn’t mind seeing it on you instead. He had half the mind to check if the door was locked again, knowing you shouldn’t be in here, shouldn’t have been in there with him either, but hell what a sight, he’d face whatever reprimand his selfish feelings would earn him for savoring the delicacy that you were. He fiddled again, trying to tuck his hair behind his ear but the softness was unfamiliar, slipping right back and earning another little huff and puff from him. “Come here,” you beckoned, sitting back against the wall, unfolding your legs so he could settle between them.

He was slow in his descent, hesitant, careful as always knowing who you were, who you belonged to, his best friend, your father, fast asleep in the room next door. But he moved still, on his knees in front of you, raking his eyes over your features as the most delicately hopeful smile rested on your lips. You were much less hesitant, gentle hands reaching out to smooth out his hair, the fuzziness from the conditioner making his grunting more understandable.

“Can I braid it for you,” you breathed though you knew he wouldn’t mind, ever the stubborn man that he is, he could never say no to you, never fuss as much as he is used to doing, not with you, it felt wrong to be anything but perfectly agreeable to your every wish and desire. “It’ll be less frizzy,” you had one of those smiles on your face again, like the one that coerced him into the shower, into his room, into his heart.

Now he wasn’t all that excited for the concept of it all, he’d briefly considered an issue coming up in the middle of the night and he’d have to face the dead or the enemy while sporting a braid but selfishly it would mean he’d get to feel your fingers digging through his hair, scraping at his scalp, cooing him in a way he’d only allow from you.

“Alright,” he gave in and he was putty in your hands in an instant, melting down onto his elbows to let you work, eyes full of disbelieved wonder as he watched you and he couldn’t fight himself placing a kiss onto your bare thigh, humming as he stole a few more, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Is this better, baby?” you sighed, performing some sort of magic with the end of his braid to tie it off and make it stay in place, fingers gripping his shoulder to guide him up, bring him closer, humming just the same as he gripped onto your waist. He kissed at your neck, trailed his lips up your jaw, your cheek, pausing as he hovered by your ear as he whispered inaudible praises- you fought a giggle at the softness of him, so unfamiliar yet so natural. “Dar,” you wanted to see him, unhappy with him hiding even as he was so close to you. He kissed the hair above your ear, grunting differently this time, a smug little sound as his hands drifted up your shirt, rough flesh scraping against your silky skin.

“Yes, sunshine?” he shifted to look at you, not surprised when you cupped his cheeks, brushed your nose against his, and scrunched said nose when he pinched at your sides.

“I love you,” you knew you weren’t allowed to say that out loud, whisper it maybe, draw it in small hearts on his hand when he reached for you in secret, write it on notes to sneak into the pocket of his leather vest but never out loud- it was a dangerous thing to say, to admit, loving him shouldn’t be something you were bold about. “You love me too,” you added, and his brows dipped, he wanted to disagree, remind you that this wasn’t the plan, wasn’t what either of you signed up for but he couldn’t find the words to lie to you. So, he kissed you again, harder, forceful with the softest, gentlest reminder of love. You held onto him tightly, scared he’d leave if you didn’t, brave as you felt him guide you down into the pillows pulling lightly at the material of your shirt.

“Say it again,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled when he pulled away, looked you over, the heat creeping over your skin, burning against his own and you knew it was crazy to be so caught up in him in the midst of it all. “Again, say it again.”

“You love me,” you dared him he had that smug smile again, tilting his head to demand more. “And I love you,” he hummed, pleased with himself, with you obliging him. “You going to show me how much?” how you managed to say that with such an innocent little expression was beyond him, but he wouldn’t stop giving you what you want now, and never would.

“Let’s hope this braid of yours holds.”

And it did hold, right up to the morning when he'd forgotten he had it in the first place, the night before having much more memorable moments that took root in his head. You were the last one up, making sure to sneak into your room to get some real clothes before going downstairs where you found a blushing Daryl eating a piece of toast. He was the center of attention, jokes coming from all around even from your dad, and your little hairstyle was to blame. His frustration eased ever so slightly when you ever nonchalantly stilled next to them.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and he knew you were, knew you felt extremely silly for making people laugh at him over what was supposed to be an act of love. He handed you the plate with his other piece of toast, shrugging as he licked his fingers clean.

"Don't be," he whispered right back just in time for Rick to come through with another joke that had you biting back a smile of your own as the kitchen filled with laughter. "Something funny, sunshine?" he dared loud enough for the room to hear and you were the one to shrug, hiding the fondness in your eyes by taking a bite of the toast, humming at the taste, content as he accidentally rested his shoulder against yours.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x yn #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fluff #twd fluff #monique's writing events #monique's homesick sleepover #right where queue left me

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starrydixon · 1 year

Text

Restless

*Requested from this ask :)*

Era: Prison Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: language, anxiety, nightmares, brief descriptions of typical twd violence/gore, comfort-fluff!!

Summary: After another nightmare startles you awake in the middle of the night, you find it hard to fall back to sleep. Your boyfriend Daryl comes to the rescue when he senses your spot beside him in bed is empty.

“You should be sleepin’.” Daryl drawled as his gravelly voice sounded from the doorway behind you as you stood outside on the bridge that connected one cellblock to another.

“I’m sorry for waking you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, mental and physical exhaustion making you too weary to sound any louder.

Although you didn't directly wake Daryl up when you snuck out of your shared cell, despite him being a notoriously light sleeper, the archer seemed to have a sixth sense about you and only awoke when his subconscious didn’t feel you beside him anymore. Daryl wasn’t surprised when he rolled over and only felt a cold mattress under his hand after blindly searching for your figure in the dark.

“Don’t gotta be.” Daryl quickly dismissed as he shuffled over so he was standing beside you. Wordlessly, he handed you a cup of water that he knew you needed. You always got cottonmouth after being awoken from a nightmare, and often neglected the task of getting yourself some water so you could relieve the dryness in your throat.

“You rarely sleep, and I woke you up.” You insisted after taking a few gracious sips of the refreshing water. Your head ducked in shame and your posture slumped in defeat when you thought back to the image of Daryl’s sleeping figure snoring into his pillow only a few moments ago.

“Was probably gonna wake up anyway from my own hellish mind, so I should be thankin’ ya for sparin’ me the trouble.” Daryl glanced over at you as a half smile lifted one corner of his mouth. He was unsure if his attempt at comforting you worked, judging by the worry line that only seemed to deepen between your furrowed eyebrows.

A bittersweet silence fell over you both as you looked out at the darkened landscape of the prison yard and shadowy trees that lined the woods in the distance. Through the holes of the wired fence in front of you, your gaze would occasionally skim over the darkened outlines of the lifeless walkers as they stalked around the most outer fence. If you strained your hearing just enough, you could make out their groans and snarls. You tried to ignore their burdening presence as much as possible.

“What was it about this time?” Daryl lightly prodded; not wanting to upset you and make you even more uncomfortable than you already were, but still wanting to give you the chance to open up if you chose too.

“Those dead assholes over there.” You scoffed while pointing an accusing finger at the walkers that lined the fence. “I’m pretty sure I was just about to get torn to bits before waking up.”

Before the end of the world happened, going to sleep was a way for you to escape from the daily stresses of your once domestic life. Although it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, it worked for you. After coming home from a particularly demanding work shift, you’d often take a nap the second your head hit the pillow of your couch. If you had the type of day that required you to be on your feet all day, you’d look forward to the moment you’d be able to sleep the stress away in the comfort of your bed.

The escape that sleep once gave you was now taken away, thanks to the apocalypse. The horror, anxiety, and daily stress that came with living in a corrupt world didn’t leave you even when you slept. It haunted your consciousness during the day, and infiltrated your dreams whenever you managed to get a couple of hours of shuteye. Your dreams were no longer filled with weird scenarios that often made you laugh for the few moments you could remember them whenever you awoke in the morning. All you knew now were nightmares that seemed far too plausible for your liking.��

Some nights you’d dream about your new found family getting eaten by walkers: hearing their pained and desperate pleas for help that your dream prevented you from giving them. Other times, you’d dream about their walkerfied corpses chasing you, trying to tear your flesh apart in order to satisfy their indefinite hunger. Most nights though, you’d dream about the Governor. His voice haunted you as he spoke of his bloodlust for your family. You could vividly see him breaking down the protective fences surrounding the prison as he came back for vengeance. Just before you awoke, the last thing that would be engraved in your mind’s eye would be the bloodbath the dictator would leave in his wake.

The gruesome and haunting images of walkers and the Governor isn’t what scared you the most, it was the fear of losing the ones you loved.

You would often fight sleep for as long as you could, just so you could avoid those poignant dreams. This resulted in you volunteering to take the nightly watch shift. You took as many shifts as you could, which was a lot since a majority of the people who lived in the prison were more than willing to give their shift to you. That coping mechanism got shut down before it even had the chance to start, since Daryl quickly caught wind of your extensive nightly shift-load. In a rare move, the archer had personally reported to the board to demand that they restrict the number of shifts you could take in a week.

Daryl didn’t push matters, as he often let you come to him when you were ready to talk about whatever it was that was bothering you. However, he cared about your well being tremendously and grew concerned when he began to notice just how dark and heavy the circles and bags under your eyes were getting. You couldn’t be mad at the archer for too long, since his attentiveness was quite endearing.

Whenever you did manage to fall asleep, a distressing nightmare would commonly wake you up with a start a few hours later. Much like tonight, your eyes would dart around every wall and dark corner that made up your tiny cell like a ritual, and you would struggle to differentiate between what was fiction and reality due to the disorienting fog that clouded your brain.

From the cold sweat you had accumulated while you slept, your mismatched pajama set stuck to your body like glue; drenched and causing chills to wrack through your bones. Your body would still be in fight or flight mode, adrenaline surging through your veins and causing anxiety to keep you from finding sleep once again.

Daryl didn’t know how to respond. Everything he thought of saying would only make him sound like a broken record. You knew you were safe within the prison walls, and that walkers wouldn’t get to you unless you ventured outside the protective fences. You knew that Daryl would do everything in his power to protect you from harm if it ever came your way. You knew that he, Michonne, and yourself were going above and beyond to try to find the governor and take him down once and for all.

The only thing Daryl could do was wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his warm chest. You practically melted into his touch, your achy muscles going limp as you basked in his comforting embrace. No words had to be said between you two during times like these; his presence was enough to calm you down and make the looming aftershocks of your nightmare become still once again.

“I wish it got easier…living like this.” You admitted in a whisper as your gaze drifted back towards the dark prison yard.

Daryl could relate to what you were feeling, he felt it too. It was hard not to. A pang shot through his chest in empathy. “It ain’t supposed to be…if we don’t feel it, then we’re just as bad as those assholes out there.” Daryl expressed earnestly after a few moments of stilled silence had passed.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you pried your eyes away from the looming figures of the walkers that swayed in the distance and hid your face in Daryl’s chest.

“What do ya wanna do?” Daryl asked gently as he adjusted his chin against your head. His large hand rubbed soothing strides up and down your arm before moving to your back.

“I don’t know.” You admitted with your eyes closed. Your body was practically screaming at you to go to sleep, as the exhaustion was threatening to forcibly knock you unconscious. You didn’t know if you were ready to reface the daunting shadows that made up your tiny cell and practically suffocated you every time you laid down for the night.

Swallowing the lump that was beginning to form in your throat, you lifted your head up from Daryl’s broad chest just enough to look at his moonlit face. “Would you make fun of me if I lit a candle?”

“What, like a nightlight?” Daryl raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at you. His heart simultaneously broke and swelled at the sight of the pout that contorted your fatigued face.

“Sort of.” You mumbled in embarrassment while ducking your eyes from him. Letting out a chuckle, Daryl tightened his arms around your body.

“Nah, I won’t make fun of ya…at least not tonight.”

Groaning in embarrassment at his goading, you weakly whacked Daryl in the chest with your open palm. You could feel heat rush to the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks at your rather juvenile request. With your head still laid on Daryl’s chest, you turned so your gaze fell back onto the darkened prison yard for one last lingering glance.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Daryl kept his arm wrapped over your shoulders as he led you back into the cellblock and into the dank and small cell you now called home. Although you avoided looking at him as you struck a match to light the candle that sat on the nightstand, you knew Daryl was smirking at you; and most likely having hundreds of teasing remarks burning the tip of his tongue.

With a sigh, you slipped out of your slippers and set your hunting knife back on the nightstand before getting into bed. Daryl already had an arm open for you, waiting for the moment you’d scoot yourself into his side and rest your head on his chest. The archer didn’t mind when you spent the next few moments squirming around beside him, struggling to find a comfortable position that wouldn’t flare up your sensitive anxiety. When you did find that sweet spot, your muscles relaxed as you let the feeling of Daryl’s soothing heartbeat settle your heightened nerves.

“Thank you.” You murmured into the material of Daryl’s cotton black t-shirt after a few moments of comfortable silence had passed.

“For?” Daryl was genuinely unsure about what you were thankful for as he couldn’t recall doing anything within the last twenty minutes or so that was worthy of gratitude.

You felt the pads of Daryl’s calloused fingers trail up and down your spine and occasionally massage your scalp, not only bringing you comfort, but for himself as well. Your fingers traced random designs on the expanse of his chest as you thought of a way to accurately express what you were feeling and thinking.

“For helping me.” You stated simply before lifting your head up slightly so you could peer up at him. Daryl scoffed lightly at your notion before tightening his arms around your frame. Your eyes closed as he placed a kiss on your hairline.

“Told ya it’s nothin’,” Pausing, Daryl looked down at you and raised his hand to gently sweep a few strands of loose hair from out of your face. “It don’t matter what time of day or night it is, I’ll always be here for ya…you know that.”

You didn’t know if it was the sleep deprivation, the crash that followed the adrenaline rush you had, or both, but your eyes began to pool with salty tears that stung the corners of your eyes. Daryl’s thumb caressed over your cheek and you found yourself melting into the comforting touch. Nodding your head in acknowledgment, you leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss on Daryl’s lips. The archer found himself holding the back of your neck more securely so he could deepen the kiss as a way to wordlessly express to you how much he meant what he had previously stated.

Soon, when the kiss you two shared had simmered down, you settled back down against Daryl’s chest and watched the dim light of the candle flicker against the concrete walls that surrounded you. Daryl’s hand resumed its soothing motions on your back. The longer you laid like that, basking in the safety that Daryl’s arms gave you, impending sleep began to loom over you.

When you heard Daryl whisper the three words that always filled your heart with warmth and caused your stomach to flutter, you allowed sleep to overcome you with a smile uplifting the corners of your mouth.

A/N: Thank you to the anon for this request! I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!❤️

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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retroellie · 1 year

Text

Dating Daryl Dixon in eras

Summary: What it would be like to date Daryl in different eras of the show

A/N: I don't really talk about my personal life on here because yall are here to get horny not sad, but I've been going through it. My girlfriend broke up with me, so I've been needing some Daryl Dixon in my life rn. This is just a bunch of ideas put together because I'm sad lol, but enjoy :)

Warnings: Normal TWD things and NSFW mentions

Word count: 4.2K

Short hair era/ Farm

-this was not his best era, he was a complete dick head to not only you but everyone else

-I wouldn’t even say that y’all were dating around this time because Daryl didn’t see you as his girlfriend, he looked at you more like a fuck buddy

-he refused to call you his girlfriend and he scolded you when you would call him your boyfriend, but y’all were weirdly together-ish?!?

-he was so up his brothers ass that he didn’t have time to have a girlfriend plus he always said he only fucked girls not dated them, “relationships are for pussies” he would tell you

-you did enjoy the sex but somewhere around that time you started to actually fall in love with Daryl Dixon

-You hated when Merle and Daryl were together and it was pretty much always

-Merle degraded you in so many ways and Daryl would turn the other cheek, it broke your heart every time.

-Daryl was a dick to you, yes, but he would never even think about going to Merle’s level. He never made you feel bad about yourself or made you uncomfortable, he was always somewhat respectful.

-He would even tell you that you were pretty sometimes… in his own way

-“god this shirt looks terrible on me…”

-“Shut up… your tits look nice in it”

-when you all assumed merle was dead that’s when Daryl got a bit nicer to you

-He started staying the night with you instead of fucking the shit out of you than leaving you all sweaty and sticky

-he would never cuddle you though, like ever. If you wanted to maybe wrap yourself around him, he’d let it but he wouldn’t be giving the same energy back

-He was bearable without Merle, you liked it actually

-When you guys got into the CDC building, Daryl was all over you… I mean literally

-He was always touching you in some way, holding onto your arm tightly or putting his hand on your thigh

-You knew it was because he was happy, for the first time in a couple of weeks he felt somewhat safe

-you guys definitely fucked in the shower… many times

-“Fuck… one thing I missed about the old world is hot water… and being able to fuck you anytime I wanted..” he moaned while literally rearranging your guts

-After the CDC Daryl started to appreciate you a little more, you all could’ve died… it opened Daryl’s eyes

-he realized that you were too good for him, like way too good yet you still chose him even after him being a dick to you

-Daryl would pick you flowers and lay them at your pillow at night, he was too scared to give them to you straight up but you always knew they were from him

-You realized you were in love with Daryl when you found yourself by his side after Andrea had shot him, he was all cut up and his head wrapped

-You saw how he did that all for a little girl, maybe he did have a mental breakdown but he still did it for her

-That’s when you knew you had fallen in love with him and hell maybe he was falling in love too

-You would read to him, he rolled his eyes and pouted when you did but he secretly loved it

-Daryl found himself in the woods by himself because of you… he wanted to be a better man for you, he wanted to find himself so maybe than he could be the man you deserved

Prison era

- I love this era so much because I know this man was a little horn dog towards you

- I mean he was quite literally inside of you at all times, sex was at its peak in this era

-He’s had so many near death experiences at this time that he learned to appreciate a woman’s body when he had it

- your cell neighbors hated you because no matter how quiet you tried to be, they always heard your muffled moans at night

- Daryl would be so protective of you too, when you went on runs (which were very rare since he wanted you to stay in the safety of the prison) he would have you stay behind him at all times

- “Daryl! It’s just two walkers!! I can handle it” you whisper screamed

-“Yea, two walkers that could rip out ya’ throat in a heartbeat! I said stay put!!”

-“Your no fun..” you said rolling your eyes

-He knew you could fend for yourself, you were tough but he couldn’t risk it. He would never admit it but you were his reason for breathing

-He never quite had a home, he lived in places but it was never a home to him. So finding you, someone who made him feel at home anywhere… he cherished that

-When the prison was in the first stages of development, Daryl noticed you only had one flimsy blanket you would cuddle up with at night… and the nights got cold.

-Daryl hunted for hours for a nice fluffy blanket for you, it took him hours to find one but he found the perfect one. When he got to the prison that night, walking into your shared cell, he saw your shivering underneath the thin blanket.

- He softly wrapped you up in the blanket, making sure every part of your body was covered with the soft material… you woke up that morning confused about the blanket but you knew who it was from

-you gave him head after that :)

-Whenever Daryl brought you gifts, you would savor them… even if it was a lingerie set, it wasn’t exactly flowers but it was something.

-Daryl wasn’t just protective… bitch he was also possessive

-You were his… nobody else could touch you or talk to you or even think about you. Especially men.

-it’s not that he didn’t trust you, he trusted you with his entire life but he didn’t trust other men

-He was a guy so he knew how they thought, he knew what a man can do to a girl like you and the thought of it made him angry

-Every guy in the prison knew you were off limits… like completely.

-When they tried to talk to you, literally just a normal conversation, Daryl would make it known that he would break their jaw if they made a move on you

-You didn’t mind though, you thought it was sweet and you felt protected plus the jealous sex was always a plus :)

-When the flu hit, you got sick…

-Daryl was terrified, he watched as you would cough your little heart out and you looked so sickly…

-He hated himself for allowing this to happen, he should’ve protected you even though he had no control of the virus

-“I’m sorry…” he said, watching your chest heave up and down weakly

-“Dar… honey, it’s not your fault…” you said weakly

-when Hershel found a way to stop the flu from spreading and help the sick, Daryl made him give it to you first… he couldn’t risk losing you without a fight

-It worked obviously and that was the day Daryl Dixon could see his entire life with you, he could see him walking up to you everyday… even when your all old and weak

-Daryl held you a little tighter at night now, kissed you more often and became softer with you when he fucked you

- he was starting to actually fall in love with someone, something he never knew he had the capacity to do

-Until the governor came along splitting everyone up including you and Daryl

-You found yourself alone and Daryl was stuck with Beth…

-Daryl assumed the worst, he knew you were too good for him and something was obviously going to take that away from him so he just figured it would be easier to mourn you

-Beth knew Daryl was depressed, she knew how much you meant to him and now you were gone…

- Daryl tried to act like it didn’t matter to him, he tried to make it seem like you were just another girl he had met along the way but Beth wasn’t stupid… she knew

-She tried to get him drunk, sing to him, make him forget that you were gone just for a minute… just so he could heal

-It never worked and as the days passed, Daryl gave up on trying to be sad and instead went numb

-You weren’t doing any better, you were all alone which made it so much worse.

-You cried yourself to sleep for days, holding on to the only thing you had left of Daryl… a black shirt that he mostly wore to sleep

-You we’re almost about to give up until there was a sign of the group still… that fueled you to go on, only caring to see if Daryl saw the same signs

-When you saw him again… it was when he carried Beth out of the hospital and suddenly you felt his pain… you weren’t happy to see him suddenly, wishing you could go back to your loneliness just so you didn’t have to see him the way he was

-He never talked about Beth to you… ever. You don’t know what happened on their trip, you don’t know if he even Thought of you but you knew right now he was hurting… hurting so bad that not even you could break his sadness

- Even if he was wallowing in his own pity, he still needed you. At night he would hold you close to him, he would hold your hand secretly while walking down the roads, he would always cover you up with his jacket at night

-His brother and Beth’s death changed him… Maybe for the better or maybe for the worst, which ever it was he learned to appreciate the little things now

Alexandria

-Daryl kinda retracted in this era I think, he had experienced so much loss that he became numb. He went back to his “being Merle’s little brother” mindset and he became a bit of a loner

- he also felt like such an outcast in Alexandria so he didn’t want to be there

-You made him feel better though, you would always try to include him in things

-you made it clear to him that you would much rather spend all your time with him than anyone else

-“don’t let me stop you from having fun… go to the party.”

-“no! I’m not going if you aren’t… besides, we’ll get the whole house to ourselves” you smirked

-His sex drive never slowed either which was nice but also wasn’t

-you had to share a house with your entire group to privacy was a luxury in such a small home

-The only way you were able to get Daryl into the shower was telling him that the shower was the only privacy YALL will be getting any time soon

-Let’s just say showers became yalls favorite thing

-Daryl warmed up to everything after a while, he actually kind of liked Alexandria especially after you guys were assigned a small little house for yourselves

- Again this era of Daryl was possessive as hell, like he made sure everyone knew you were his from day one

-You would always have hickeys on your neck or complain of your body hurting after a night with Daryl

-Daryl became a lot less touchy with you around this time though which was weird because he loved to touch you

-The only touch you received from him was through sex and maybe sometimes he would cuddle up with you at night, but mostly so he could press his dick on your ass go hint that he wanted you

-Daryl’s gifts also slowed too, it was rare to receive a gift from him around these times.

-You could tell Daryl was just trying to heal and cope so you didn’t mind much, you even spent those times focusing on yourself.

-You never let Daryl forget how much he meant to you though and honestly sometimes he needed that.

-Obviously Daryl wasn’t completely cold to you like he would be in the early seasons

-He made time to spend with you, he would always let you know he was thinking of you in some kind of way.

Post-negan Alexandria

-This was a extremely hard time for Daryl, after being captured and blaming himself for Glenn’s death… he was completely numb even after he had put himself back together again

-This point in time he was extremely needy though, like he needed you all the time because he was genuinely scared and he didn’t know what he was doing

-He couldn’t sleep without you there with him, if you weren’t there he would be overthinking and it would be almost impossible to fall asleep

- When he was held captive, tortured in so many devilish ways… Dwight used you as a threat

-He explained everything that he had in store for you, telling him that you were next on negans “girls to marry” list and Daryl was the only one who could stop it

-It was all lies though but Daryl believed them, almost giving in if it meant to keep you safe

-“I’m telling you Daryl… that sweet girl of yours isn’t going to be yours forever, especially if you don’t make this choice.”

-“you stay away from her… Lay a finger on her and I’ll kill you”

-When he got back, he was far more protective of you than he was before

-Daryl liked when you rubbed his back at night, dragging your fingers softly over the old and new scars on his back

-He would lay his head on you, cuddling up at your side while you laid on your back. He would look up at you, seeing you drift to sleep while rubbing his back

-Daryl always left a note for you that told you if he was leaving, it doesn’t matter how long he would be gone, he would always leave one

-He knew that him being taken scared you to death, carol told him that you were extremely depressed and wouldn’t get out of bed most of the time

-so he leaves a note just to tell you where he’s going, just so the memories of him being gone won’t fill your little head

- Daryl always says “I love you” to you as well, it’s such a common phrase to yall know because he wants you to know how much he cares about you

-This is the era when Daryl is at his bottom peak bitch… lemme tell you

-He is so broken down and afraid that he will let you take whatever you need from him plus give him what he wants

-He’s such a bottom, like a whiny bottom too

-He will beg for you to let him cum inside you or literally have tears streaming down his face while you go as slow as you possibly can while take his cock inside you

-“please… y/n please go faster…”

-“Don’t be an impatient baby… you can wait!”

-He will literally moan and whine so much, such a little baby and you’d tease him for it too

- It took him months to come back into himself, you felt like he was a shell of who he once was but Daryl always came back to you… always

-You made sure to always reassure him that you loved him and you weren’t going to leave him

-He suffered from nightmares, bad ones too and some nights they would wake up. The sad thing is, Daryl apologized for waking you up and that broke your heart

-You hated when you felt like he had to apologize to you all the time, he would say he’s sorry to you like a mantra

Whisperers Era

-This was like Ricks “death” era so this means mf was so fucking sad, like he could not forgive himself

-The months following ricks “death” though he was always gone

-It started with small trips out in the woods but it slowly turned into full weeks of you being without him

-You waited for him for the first few weeks, staying up until he came home so you could clean him up

- but then you just gave up with it and went to bed without a second thought

-You however did always make a second plate for him and left the living room light on just in case

-you would go out and find him sometimes when you had a feeling something had happened, he was always in a different spot but always by the river

-You would bring him food and clean clothes, he was always happy to see you of course but he always seemed so sad

-“Are you coming home?”

-“Nah… not yet honey.”

-He only came back when he found out about the whisperers, mainly so he could keep you safe

- As soon as he did come back though, Judith and RJ were giving to him… that only added onto his anxiety

-You saw Daryl get lost along the way, he was stressed… full of rage and hatred for this stupid group that he knew nothing about

-When y’all took in Lydia, you could see the pain Daryl felt for her… and that’s when he opened up to you about his childhood

-It was when you were finally able to cuddle up with each other and get some sleep, Daryl was cuddled up into your side as you brushed your hands through his hair

-You don’t know what triggered it but he just bursted into tears, he tried to muffle his cries in your chest

-You went silent, not exactly knowing what to do but you made sure Daryl knew you were listening… even if he didn’t want to talk

-He told you all the horrors that he went through in his childhood, how his father beat him so many times and his moms death… he even told you about the river he used to go to when he wanted to get away from everything

-You listened silently, tears falling down your cheeks as you held him so unbelievably close to you

-“I just look at that girl… I see me, I see the same damn scared look on her face” he whimpered out

-That night brought you two together, it patched up the rocky relationship that had arose due to his absence

- The whisperer had taken so many people from y’all, causing more hatred and anger to arise from Daryl but he tried to keep his cool but you knew

-You were with the small group that went out to find the herd but instead got stuck in a cave that alpha set up for you

-Daryl’s main priority was you, always and forever but especially right now

-He made sure you got through the herd first, he made sure you were able to get through the small areas of the cave first, he cuddled up next to you to make sure you were warm, he made sure you got out first

- you both were exhausted after everything the whisperers out you through but than they unleashed the herd

-You all knew it was coming but this sparked a deep fear from within you that you had from the very beginning

-“Daryl… What if this is our last fight? I mean what if we lose?” You asked as Daryl sharpened his blade

-“We’ve always worked it out in the end hun, don’t start talking like that now.”

-That day you made sure Daryl remembered how much you loved him, you made sure you bore it into his skin

-You both made love like it was your last time doing so, filled with soft kisses and moans that you didn’t even try to hide

- Than you fought together, fighting off the herd along with the whisperers that hid between them… you made sure it wasn’t your last fight together

- when you all thought it was over, beta decided to take revenge and trap y’all in the hospital

-You went through the herd with Daryl, holding his hand like it was your reasoning for life and Daryl made sure you were safe

-After everything was said and done, life never went back to normal but all you needed was Daryl and you were happy with that

Commonwealth

-Okay this is probably my favorite Daryl era :)

-He turns into a little house husband and it’s so cute

-Y’all live in a shitty little apartment with Judith and RJ, which they have basically become yalls children

-He’ll get the kids ready while you are still fast asleep because work took it out of you

-He’ll get up extra early just to make you some breakfast even though I just know this mf is terrible at cooking REAL food

-He’ll let you take a shower after work while he does the house chores but most of the time he joins you in the shower

-Okay obviously y’all will have sex in the shower like it goes without saying butttt, after or even before he’ll just help you clean yourself up

-He’ll help lather your hair up and scratch your scalp with his finger nails, it feels so good and you’ll just go limp in his arms for a bit

-Daryl hates his job lowkey, like he’ll do it but having to go through all the training and then having to take orders?!? Daryl is a loner and he feels he is his own boss so having to follow rules is hard for him

-You make sure to make his job a little easier by packing his lunch, you’ll put candy and sweet in there for him as well as real food.. the cute part is that you always write a cute little letter for him

-“Have a good day at work my love <3 just make sure you come back to me in one piece!!”

-He’ll just smile down at it, not even attempting to hide his smile

-Everyone else will make fun of him, laughing at his silly little blush as he reads your note for him

-“Hey Dixon! Don’t get all soft on us now!”

-“Hey, you mind asking your girl to make me one too? Shit may be blowy as well!”

-“You really are head over heels for that stupid girl ain’t ya? She’s not all that.”

-Daryl doesn’t care, he spent so long trying to hide you or make your love secret that now he doesn’t even try

-Speaking if you work, you have a cute little job!

-Daryl always visits you when he gets days off and just wants to see you, he thinks you look so cute in your uniform

-You’ll light up when you see him, bring him into a big hug and than tell him how your so happy to see him even if you saw him that morning

-He’ll bring you lunch with him as well, sometimes he’ll bring Judith and RJ just so they can see where you work

-Y’all are such a cute little family and it gets me so fucking soft

- Daryl just becomes a bit softie for you omfg

-The sex gets softer too but Daryl still has his hard times with you, if you want it hard and rough that night… you don’t have to tell him twice

-Okay but when you are at work and he visits you on your lunch break, he would definitely drag you into the nearest bathroom or have you go to the back of the store just so he can take you right then and there

-You would both go to the little parties they have at the commonwealth together :) like Daryl doesn’t dance at all and he’ll probably just stand there all tough but he’d still like seeing you all dolled up

-I keep getting this image in my head of the commonwealth being the first time Daryl had ever seen you drunk, idk why but it’s stuck in my head

-You’ll be all loopy, trying to grope in through his jeans and kissing all over him

-Daryl loved how touchy you were but you were drunk and he doesn’t do that

-“Come onnn daryll…” you dragged out as you attempted to kiss his lips

-“Doll… I swear to you that I want to take you right here right now, I would give anything… but ya’ ain’t sober and I want you when you’re sober.”

-You eventually vomited everywhere and than fell asleep but Daryl thought you were cute when your were drunk

-When Daryl got the record player?!? You literally bought all types of records

-Daryl would get out of the shower, towel wrapped around him to see you in the kitchen cooking up dinner in only his shirt and underwear, dancing around like a maniac

-He also likes fucking you to music now

-When you guys had to move out of the commonwealth you were pretty upset

-You hated what the people there were doing but you couldn’t help but love it there, you got a glimpse back to the old work

-As you were packing up, Daryl noticed how sad your were so he came up behind you and kissed your neck softly

-“I’m sorry you have to leave your home again..”

- “You’re my home… I don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.”

#daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#13: I Love You (S8E14)

Ahhhh probably one of the most anticipated exchanges between Rick and Michonne, and of course, it was sensational. This scene powerfully reiterated that these soulmates truly mean the world to each other. And after seasons of communicating those special three words through every look, touch, kiss, and conversation, we finally got to hear Rick and Michonne directly say what's always been true - they love each other 🥰 Wholly, Deeply, and Forever...

This ily moment, adorably spoiled by our lovely captains 😋, is so tender and heartfelt while also being so natural and clear that these two have been verbally expressing I Love You’s for a while.

(Side note: I know there’s often debate on Rick’s hottest season lookswise, and really you could make a great case for any season, but lemme just place my vote here for season 8 right quick. 😊 Something about Season 8 Rick was extra fine. I feel bad cuz he was in pain all season, which I truly hate to see...but Rick was looking real right even while everything was going wrong ijs. even tho I think Rick Grimes' TOWL era is about to take the cake 🤭)

Something I so love about Rick and Michonne's relationship is that whenever they go through hardship they ultimately step closer rather than apart. They always eventually close the distance, which was evident in this lovely 'I love you' scene.

And I feel grateful that after experiencing such a devastating loss of their son, Carl, (why, TWD, why? 😭) and having to go on their journeys of grief, Rick and Michonne find their way back to each other truly in this moment. It doesn’t always go that way when a couple loses a kid as we’ve seen from other characters in this very series. But for Rick and Michonne, what they have is so unbreakable that, even in the hardest storm, their love still shines through, rises above, guides, and centers them.

So reflecting on Richonne's I Love You scene will forever have me like...

There’s also a beautiful and heart-rending honorable mention scene in this ep where Rick wipes Michonne's tears and Michonne opens up with Rick (and even makes reference to her son Andre 😭) while trying to help him heal at Hilltop instead of running out and about to get away from his grief.

But Rick still has a bit of savage Rick to get out of his system, so he and Morgan go hunt down some saviors first.

(Side note: while we're talking season 8, this 100th ep kiss in the season 8 premiere also deserves a big honorable mention because...🥵🔥🔥)

When Rick returns to Hilltop after wildin out with Morgan, he’s finally gained clarity on what he needs to start focusing on and who he needs to be healing with. Which leads to him saying those three very special words to the very special woman in his life. 🤗

So the scene starts with Rick returning to his room in a clean fresh tee, showing a clean fresh start to me. (Also Rick + a white tee has been a great combo since season 1, y'all) And he finally knows it’s time to let his wife and son guide him and read Carl's letter.

Michonne enters sorta hesitant I think because when Rick and Morgan returned they def looked like they had dabbled in the dark side out in those woods, and so she might be wondering what headspace Rick's in after whatever he just did.

But the thing about magnets is they always find their way back to each other and so Rick's not grown more distant but rather more aware of how he needs to navigate this season with her.

She finds him holding the letter, and Rick first says, "Thank you." Again, I love that Rick always thanks Michonne. Like as early as when they were strangers in s3, Rick has always vocally expressed gratitude for Michonne. And, in this moment, he knows how much Michonne has been his rock during this unbearable time as well as still fighting for their son Carl and his wishes, and so Rick thanks her for it. Her presence in his life is invaluable and he knows it.

Also, I adore the shared breath they both take when he says this. #TheyAreOne. And Michonne's so relieved that Rick has arrived at this point in his grieving journey.

Then Rick says he’s sorry which is also great cuz he knows going out and handling all this alone is not how magnets do. And Michonne is so understanding when she says, "You don't have to be."

It's just more proof that she is the exact kind of loving presence Rick needs in his life because she’s so good at both accountability and empathy. (Also in 4.09, Rick tells Carl sorry, and Carl also responds with, "You don't have to be." 😭)

And then Rick, knowing how blessed he is to have Michonne love him and stand with him through it all, turns to her and so tenderly says, "I love you." Beautiful x10. 🥹✨

I love how melodic it's said. 🥰 It’s this lovely quiet moment and Rick says it truly like it is a reassuring reminder of something he has expressed to her often and feels deeply.

I love that he turns to really look her in the eyes and has this little nod and subtlest smile when he says 'I love you.' And you just know he genuinely means this. It’s so great, and I could replay it 1000 times idc.

And Michonne really does complete the perfection when she so movingly says, "I love you too." 🥹✨

Again, you can feel how much she means this. The emotion on Rick's face, when he hears his wife say she loves him too shows that he also can feel how much they both mean this, especially as a small tear can be seen. They are everything to each other. 🥲

(Side note: One of the many reasons why I was so elated to hear Rick call Michonne his wife in that TOWL trailer (which I'm still there btw - haven't left since I first heard it 😋) is because we who love their love story of course already knew he views her as his wife (since 2016) and that he'd refer to her as that in the spinoff series, but by saying it in the trailer it showed that this isn't some big reveal they have to wait to say in the new show. Michonne has been his wife for the longest. Rick has viewed her as his wife for seasons. Their marriage is not a new TOWL development, it is an element of TWD. And scenes like this ily scene in season 8 make that crystal clear. (also I cannot wait to hear Rick call Michonne his "wife" even more and to hopefully hear Michonne call Rick her husband 😊)

I adore that we had so many moments of Rick and Michonne communicating 'I love you' to each other in different ways leading up to this point, and then this scene gifted us with the actual direct ILY exchange between them, and of course it was perfect and proof that...

I really feel confident this wasn't intended to be R&M's first time ever saying "I love you" directly either. In this scene, both of them seemed to communicate it in a way that said this is something they've said before and often. (like it feels like they don't show Michonne's facial expression upon hearing Rick say 'I love you' because this isn't a first. She's heard that man tell her this several times before 😋)

I like to think that why these season 8 'I love you's carry so much weight right here and now is because it might be the first time they've said it to each other post-losing Carl. 😭

How heartwarming is it to know that even in a sea of pain, Rick and Michonne still want each other to know that while their whole world has been changed, the one thing that hasn't changed is their love for each other. 🥹

Their love story is just heavenly. To go from staring at each other through a prison fence and thinking they’d patch her up and then she’d be gone to now declaring their love. Perfection. 🙌🏾

And ILY’s do not seem like a phrase either Rick or Michonne take lightly or would just say to anybody. For them to express this and fall in love with someone, the connection was going to have to be deep and special. And what they found with each other is the deepest love so of course they can tell each other these 3 words with ease.

And because Richonne is the gift that keeps on giving the scene doesn’t stop there. Michonne then approaches Rick and lovingly takes his face in her hands as they share a sweet kiss. 🥹

And only Richonne can make their movement after the kiss feel as passionate and intimate as the kiss itself. Cuz after finally connecting like they’ve been longing to do, Rick and Michonne stay in the moment, looking deep into each other's eyes before leaning their heads against each other with that blessed mirror giving us all the angles. 😍

I love that mirror, y'all. 😋 I'm deeming that mirror and the set designer who placed it there some Richonners cuz, baby, they knew what we needed to see...

The way Rick and Michonne touch each other is always electric, and I love that they seriously feel like one as she rests her hand on his heart and he gently moves his hand up her side. These actors are so gifted at not wasting a single moment or action because they communicate Richonne's love in every second of a scene.

(and when richonne inevitably does that signature forehead touch in TOWL, after years apart...y'all I just might ascend to the heavens right then and there 😇)

It’s also sweet the way Michonne looks at Rick before leaving for him to have this time alone to connect with his son and read the letter.

Having the scene end with Rick reading his son's letter in a whole mirror as opposed to the shattered mirror he saw himself in earlier in the ep, is lovely. And it speaks to the power of Richonne that Rick could arrive at this point, ready to slowly but surely start healing.

“I love you” really is communicated in every Richonne scene. And while season 8 was a weak one overall, one thing it did well was illustrate the stunning strength of Rick and Michonne’s exquisite and powerful love.

And I love knowing that, thanks to TOWL, we're sure to have some more Richonne "I Love You" moments in store. #GiftThatKeepsOnGivingAndGiving 😌

#richonne #top 30 #number 13 #rick x michonne #twd 8.14 #reveling in richonne #twd towl #the ones who live

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kdogreads · 1 year

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Get In Line

Daryl x GN Reader Fluff/Angst

Era: Post-Wolves Attack Alexandria

Summary: Daryl and Y/N share an emotional moment outside their shared home.

Word count: 1150

TW: mentions of alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of death (nothing graphic), sad!Daryl

A/N: Soft!Daryl hurts my heart 🥺 I am rewatching and on Season 6, so early Alexandria Daryl is heavy on my mind lol. Thank you so much for reading! 💕

Daryl requests are open! Send me a message :)

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in my TWD fics! Thank you for reading.

More Daryl fluff here

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“Daryl? Ya out here?” You questioned, poking your head out of the front door to the home you shared with Carol and Daryl. The sun had set hours ago and the only light was a yellowish shade cast over your front porch by the streetlight.

A low grumble fills your ears coming from the darkened step down to the sidewalk. Daryl turns his body to face yours, a puff of smoke rolls off his lips and invades your senses.

“Hiya sunshine,” You began in a sing-song voice, eliciting an eye roll from Daryl as he drew the last pull off of his cigarette before putting it out on the concrete, “You better not leave that on my sidewalk.”

“‘S my sidewalk, too, no?” He teased in his typical southern drawl.

You raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his hands in surrender while he plucked the remains into the small ashtray by the steps you’d left there for him. A small huff escaped his throat before he spoke again.

“Need somethin’, y/n?”

“I brought you more pickles to try. I think they’re finally ready.” You stuck the glass jar out in front of you and Daryl took it as a small curl formed in one corner of his lips.

You took a step forward to join him sitting on the step.

“I like those.” He replied with a grateful nod.

“Why do you think I keep making them?” A sweet smile spread across your face.

“Thanks,” Daryl huffed, placing a hand on your knee for a quick moment before shifting both of his elbows onto his knees.

He held his head in his hands for a beat before lifting it up again to give you a squinted glance.

You looked back at him with a small smile for a long while before both of your glares turned back to the quiet street. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Daryl pulled the pack of scavenged cigarettes back out of his pocket and carefully lit one up. He took a long draw, let the smoke roll off his lips, and extended his hand towards you.

Before the world turned, you only ever smoked when you drank; guilty habit. Tonight you weren’t drinking, but Daryl’s offering served as his way to let you into his little world, and you were happy to join him.

You coughed a little as you exhaled and Daryl let out a low laugh.

“Didn’ think ya smoked,” He teased, placing a hand on your back and giving you a soft pat.

“Not for a long time,” You responded through a laugh, “And usually only when I was trashed. That shit’ll kill you, you know?”

Daryl huffed through his nose, “Get in line.”

You raised your eyebrows and nodded in agreement, laughing quietly.

Your thoughts wandered as you sat in the cool air with the archer. You looked at his weathered features - sun-darkened skin surrounded the last yellow-ish spots around his previously blackened right eye, messy chestnut hair clouding your view of the deep lines of his forehead, undoubtedly caused by the stress of the last few years.

Without realizing it, you reached your hand out to brush the stray hairs from his face. Your chilled fingers seared into his naturally warm skin.

He turned to face you with furled brows, anxiously shifting under your touch. You pressed your index finger between his eyebrows, smoothing over each of them to release the tension in his facial muscles. Daryl let his eyes fall shut under your careful fingers, now relaxing slightly into your touch.

“You have to stop blaming yourself,” You sighed and let your hand land softly on the warm skin just under his ear, “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

He scoffed and snapped his eyes open.

“None of it - the prison, Hershel, Beth, Ty,” You raised your other hand to his strong bicep, “None of it, Daryl.”

“Don’t,” He jerks away from your touch, “Just don’t, y/n.”

“Daryl,” You reached out for him, but he jumped up and took a few steps away from you.

“No, I don’ — I can’t.” He growled, pacing back and forth in front of you, “I shouldna’ stopped lookin’ for the Governor. I shoulda got ta’ Beth ‘fore — Tyreese kept Judith alive,” His hands stab into the air with each thought,” Tha’ herd was followin’ us and I just let ‘em head for home — all them people dead ‘cause I couldn’t stop those bastards. I just — I…” He finally paused long enough for you to see the tears threatening to burn down his face.

You shot up and crossed the short distance between you in one large step. Your arms snaked under his before he could continue, or protest. Squeezing his large body against your smaller one, you felt his breath catch in his throat. His chest shuddered in your grasp as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you further into him.

You hold tightly onto him for another few moments, feeling his hot tears soaking through your shirt as his head laid onto your shoulder. He pressed his face against the crook of your neck before taking a deep breath and lifting his face to meet yours.

“You can’t fix everything, Daryl,” You slipped your hands up to hold either side of his face, “You do everything for us.”

“Ain’t enough,” He whispered, barely audible even to you, eyes falling back down to the ground.

“It is,” You lifted his chin so his eyes had to meet yours again, “It is enough.”

He just looks at you through swollen lids, his hurt expression not changing.

“You gotta let go of that guilt, honey,” You rub your thumb gently across his cheek, “It’ll kill you.”

“Have ta’ get in line, hm?” He teased, the brief moment of vulnerability having come and gone in an instance.

You smiled knowingly up at him, his posture having returned to normal, but his arms stayed wrapped tightly around your body.

“Should we go inside and try those pickles?” You slid your arms up again to snake around his neck.

“C’mon,” He nodded and turned his body, one arm still holding you close to him as he took a step towards the house. He stopped only to grab the small glass jar on the step.

The two of you walked into your shared home, Daryl’s hand never leaving your lower back. You settled comfortably onto your oversized chair together, your legs draped lazily over Daryl’s while one of his arms wrapped around you. A small oil lamp alight in the corner dimly lit your faces while you shared a tangy pickle spear.

“Mm,” Daryl growled, “Ya gotta keep makin’ these.”

“Anything you want, sunshine,” You whispered back to him with a smile, tucking your head into his shoulder to fade contentedly into a quiet night.

#daryl imagines #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x you #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst #daryl fluff #twd imagine #kdogreads

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sheriffgrimes-archerdixon · 1 year

Text

Harmful words

Warnings: arguments, shouting, cruel words

Request: hi!! I was wondering whether you could do one when Daryl snaps at the reader whom is like a daughter to him and she sees him as a father figure and they get into an argument that causes issues and he says things he regrets please? Thank you. (A/n this’ll be written during the prison era)

Someone better take my phone away from me the amount of sad twd drafts I’ve got saved is becoming concerning 😭🤣

“I’m sorry okay,”

Your words were weak and tired as Daryl stood in front of you, crossbow hung just over his shoulder “sorry isn’t going to cut it y/n. You could’ve been killed-“ “well I wasn’t.” Your words were harsh as you glared into his eyes “please stop treating me like a goddamn kid! I’m sick of it… you hear me? Sick of it! All of it!”

He looked at you a hurt expression lingering in his eyes “what the fuck y/n?”

“Stop treating me like your god damn daughter! I’m not your kid! I’m just someone you rely on since you can’t do shit yourself!” You yelled, you didn’t mean it. They were just words. Angry words that you couldn’t even comprehend as you failed to notice the growing anger and sadness forming on his face “you’re right.” He spoke disgust visible on his face as he began shaking his head “you aren’t my daughter,” he continued shaking his head “and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.”

His words caused your breath to hitch as you stared off into space your eyes full of sadness before you looked down, Daryl didn’t mean to be so harsh- regret immediately forming on his face. You didn’t think he would go that far, you were just angry and it upset you that he would even say something like that. You had gone on a run, a risky run at that but it wasn’t your fault you wanted to get things for the group but you knew Daryl was protective over you so it was most definitely a stupid decision. You knew it would cause an argument but didn’t the groups lives matter more than yours?

“I- I didn’t mean to say that y/n…” he spoke and your eyes flicked to him a saddened expression on your face “I’m not Merle, I’m more than capable of saving myself and not getting killed. Okay? Get off my back for once yeah? I just want to support the group! Don’t you get that? It isn’t just us anymore!” You raised your voice as Daryl’s breathing became heavier his eyes narrowing as a slight worry and sadness consumed his face but he didn’t say anything he just stayed quiet “we’ve got to support Rick! Beth! Carl! And Judith, she cannot live without baby formula! What do you expect me to do? Just sit around here on my ass all day when I can go and get supplies for everyone!” Your voice was raw with emotion anger in your eyes. You knew Daryl meant no harm, he was only protective over you but sometimes it felt overbearing- overwhelming- as if you were walking on eggshells whenever you went out. It was as if he didn’t believe you could protect yourself.

“I know damn well we need to go get supplies but that don’t mean you should go out there risking your life! We go in groups! Not as individuals!” He shouted, raising his voice his hands moving about a lot as he talked a lot of his emotions through his hands. “And I know you ain’t Merle but that isn’t the point! You’re the last part of me that I’ve got! I cant lose you as well if I lose you then what the hell is the point of living anymore, huh?” His words cut into your heart harshly and you closed your mouth, falling silent as you shook your head “haven’t got an answer because you know damn well if you weren’t here I’d be dead!” And that’s when you snapped walking up to him getting in his face “don’t patronise me. Don’t you dare. Don’t put your life in my hands…. Just don’t.”

Daryl wanted to say so much more his eyes full of pain but before he even could Glenn quickly moved in between the both of you “c’mon just stop this. There’s kids here. Stop shouting…” he said desperate as he held his hands out to you and Daryl as if trying to keep you both away from each other. “What’s happened?” Glenn spoke trying to sort everything out and you looked at Daryl who was now pacing back and forth “y/n goin’ on that supply run alone… could’ve gotten killed. Stupid decision.” He spat out and Glenn listened as you scoffed rolling your eyes. You loved Daryl a lot, he protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself but you didn’t want him not believing in the fact you could protect yourself.

Glenn went to say something but a different voice spoke up “I have to agree with Daryl on this one.” You looked at Rick as you frowned but he held his hand up to you telling you silently to remain quiet instead of inputting your opinion “if Carl had gone out there-“ “Carl is a kid. I am an adult.” You cut Rick off, an unimpressed look forming on the older man’s face “if Carl had gone out there I would’ve had the same reaction as Daryl. What you did was charitable, good work- yes, but risky as hell… what happened if you got bit, hm?” You remained silent as you stared down at the ground. Hearing it from another person made you realise that maybe you were being slightly too harsh. You sighed quietly as you ran a hand over your face,

“We don’t need another fight breaking out so please solve this quickly.” Rick spoke calmly but it was as if he was ordering the both of you to make up and as he and glenn left the room Daryl continued pacing back and forth whilst you stayed still. “I’m sorr-“ he started but you cut him off “no. I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful. I was being an ass” you said softly as the archer smiled slightly at you his eyes growing softer as he walked closer to you wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you into his side as you hugged him tightly “forgive and forget?” He asked and you nodded your head “forgive and forget.”

~~~

You sat on the table in the prison eating some chocolate pudding from a small can, everyone else was eating some food and Daryl was holding Judith in his arms holding a bottle of milk to her lips as she drank, everyone else ate as much as they wanted to your attention soon turning towards Beth as she nudged you nodding towards Carl.

You looked towards the kid noticing how he was eyeing up the can of pudding in your hand, he had fruit but didn’t seem to be too interested in it. “Eat up,” Rick spoke quietly to Carl but you quickly stepped in “trade?” You questioned sliding the can of pudding over to the boy who’s face and demeanour immediately lit up as he began eating the pudding, you reached over getting the fruit as you began eating the canned fruit Rick nodding slightly at you in a silent way to say thank you and all you did was smile. They were family. You’d do anything for them.

As night drew closer, the sun going back into hiding you made your way to your cell climbing up onto your top bunk as you exhaled. You shared a room with Daryl- he slept on the bottom bunk and you slept on the top. As you laid down you felt a sudden vibration against the bottom of the bunk making you jump in fright a chuckle falling from Daryl’s lips as he stared up at the mattress “sorry,” he said and you let out a little laugh “it’s fine… you know you preach on about people not sneaking up on you yet you sneak up on us all the time.” You laughed out and a small smile remained on his lips “oh shut up,” he spoke playfully and you rolled onto your side as he continued talking to you, the sound of him talking easing you into a tired mindset as you began relaxing “you warm enough?” He suddenly asked and you hummed in affirmation “enough pillows? You can have mine if you want.” He offered. He did this every night and you always said no. “I’m fine, really.” You spoke and he sighed gently “alright..” he laid back down onto the hard bunk resting his arms under his head “sleep well…” he knew once you hadn’t responded that you were flat out and he smiled slightly,

“I love you sunshine.”

#twd #daryl dixon #x reader #daryl x sister reader #Daryl x daughter reader #comfort #the prison twd #prison #rick grimes #glenn rhee #mention of characters #twd imagines #judith grimes #xreader #yn x daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon twd #rick grimes twd

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dixons-sunshine · 17 days

Text

Breathe With Me | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: With you and Daryl being in a good place, kissing coming naturally to you both and cuddling no longer awkward, it was inevitable that your make out sessions would start to heat up into something else. However, in the heat of what should've been a hot moment, Daryl's mind started to wander to it's usual self deprecating depths. Luckily, you were there to help him through it.

Genre: Kinda angsty but mainly fluff

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, self deprecating thoughts, hyperventilation/panic attack.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Another young!Daryl fic in a span of not even two days? Who would've thought it was possible? It's mainly because I've been enjoying writing for young!Daryl recently, and I'd be happy to get any requests for this au. Also, I've never personally experienced a panic attack myself and this is all based off of what Google told me, so if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“Oh, fuck.”

“Shit, girl. Yer gon' be the death of me.”

You giggled against his lips, allowing him to push you down onto the bed. He followed soon after, moving to hover over you before reattaching his lips to yours hungrily. He used one of his hands to hold his weight up, the other one wandering over your exposed stomach. Your shirt was already disposed of and long forgotten, leaving you clad in only your shorts and bra.

To your surprise, when your hands wandered under Daryl's shirt, he only hesitated for a quick moment before withdrawing from the kiss and tugging his shirt over his head. Old and new scars were on display for you, leaving Daryl completely vulnerable under your gaze.

You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss, a silent way of thanking him for trusting you. It wasn't the first time that you had seen his scars—you had helped him with his wounds too many times too count, leaving you familiar with all of his scars—but you always tried to make sure that he knew you didn't judge him. You loved every part of him, scars and all.

You gasped against his lips when he let his hand trail down, his fingers lightly tracing over your clothed cunt. His tongue entered your mouth and he groaned at the taste. He pulled back momentarily to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.

“Fuck, yer so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.

You moaned when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, leaning your head back to grant him better access. Your mind was starting to get cloudy, the only thought on your mind being how good Daryl was making you feel. Admittedly, you were also nervous, since this would be your first time doing something like this, but you trusted Daryl. He wouldn't ever hurt you.

In an unexpected move, you managed to roll you both over. Daryl's eyes slightly widened in wonder, before smiling and leaning up for another kiss. His hands settled on your waist, allowing you to take the reigns for the moment.

Daryl was thoroughly enjoying himself. However, when he felt you subconsciously grind your hips against his, his mind zoomed in and focused on one thing—you would regret this. You would regret giving your first time to someone like him. He would be terrible at this and you'd finally kick him to the curb after figuring it out. He didn't deserve to have you in this way, in your most vulnerable state.

You would regret him.

Daryl's breathing started becoming erratic. Although you could've easily misinterpreted it as him simply getting more turned on, something told you it wasn't that. You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, noticing the slightly pained expression on his face. His breathing was quick and choked off, and he seemed to be in some sort of daze. You instantly knew something was wrong.

“Daryl, hey, look at me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek and gently urging him to look at you. When his blue eyes met yours, you could very clearly see the panic in them.

Instantly, all previous lustful thoughts left your mind, concern for your boyfriend taking root in their place. You knew exactly what was happening; Daryl was busy having a panic attack. You helped him into a sitting position, still straddling his lap. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest right above your heart, hoping to divert his attention away from whatever negative thoughts were plaguing his mind.

Still looking deeply into his eyes, you gently caressed his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding his over your heart. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” you whispered, starting to breathe in a controlled rhythm.

Daryl nodded and began to copy your breathing, his sounding more choked up than yours. He tightened his grip on your waist with his hand that was still resting there, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality. It took a while, with you soothingly rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone and breathing with him in a controlled rhythm, but soon he was calming down.

Daryl felt ashamed of himself. There the two of you were, half naked and sharing what should've been a blissful, enjoyable experience, and he let himself get into his own head. He let his own insecurities get in the way. He should've just sucked it up, but instead he just had to ruin the moment.

“M'sorry,” he muttered, looking down to avoid what he thought would've been a disappointed stare.

You frowned slightly and gently grabbed his face with both hands, urging him to look at you. “Hey, it's okay,” you assured him. When he shook his head in denial, your grip became more firm. “It is okay. Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control, alright? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. “I jus' got into my own head. I was nervous and convinced myself ya would regret givin' yer virginity to me. Started feelin' overwhelmed. M'sorry.”

You pressed a kiss against his forehead, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry. I get it. I was nervous too, you know? But I wouldn't have regretted anything. I trust you. There's no one I'd rather do this with. But it's okay if that doesn't happen right now. I'm ready whenever you are.”

Daryl gave you a small smile before leaning forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “M'still sorry. I was lookin' forward to this.”

“Me too, but it can wait. Let's get you taken care of, okay? And I don't wanna hear any buts, mister.”

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed, but made no effort to lift you off his lap. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you fer understandin'.”

“Of course.”

There was a lot of things going through Daryl's mind at that moment. Despite your reassuring words, he still felt awful for what happened, his mind continuing to shame him. However, with your hands now gently threading through his hair to bring him some comfort, not giving a damn that you were still half naked and straddling him, he forced his mind to shut up.

And in that moment, it was confirmed in his mind—Daryl Dixon knew that he was never letting you go.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #young!daryl dixon #young daryl dixon #young!daryl #shopping spree hangout dreams #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 8 months

Text

Words: 3,834 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: language, blood and gore, some sexuality, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Master List!

Previous Chapter here

Summary: Y/N and Daryl soak in their newfound closeness before heading out for a quick chore and some time together.

Your name: submit What is this?

It was one of the gentlest wakings you could remember—being pulled slowly from sleep by the soft shuffling of one of the dogs on the rug after a deep night of sleep that was free from new nightmares or bad memories. And then you became aware of his warmth and weight beside you. Even through your closed eyelids Daryl was steady and strong. You opened them to find his blue eyes already fixed on your face and then he smiled, almost a little abashedly as if you’d caught him at something he shouldn’t be doing, and your lips curved into a smile that mirrored his.

You drew in a deep, sustaining breath and shifted among the mess of sheets. There was a space between you and Daryl, but only a small one.

“You couldn’t sleep in?” you asked him gently. You could tell by the filtered light that it was much later than either of you usually rose.

“Nah, I coulda gone back to sleep,” he said. His voice was extra gravelly. “But once I woke up, I just—didn’t wanna close my eyes again,” he said. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “I ain’t been awake long though. Actually managed a pretty good night’a sleep for once.”

“Good. That’s good.” You paused and bit your bottom lip subconsciously. “Wonder why that is,” you said warmly.

Daryl let out an amused exhale. “No idea,” he drawled.

You smiled softly and sighed and then couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you. The cabin always grew cold overnight without anyone tending the fires.

Daryl immediately looked concerned. “Ya cold?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Just because the fire went out while we slept.”

He started to shift in the blankets.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, leaning up on an elbow.

“Yer cold. ‘M gonna get the fires goin’ again, warm this place up.”

“Don’t.”

Daryl gave you a questioning look, one hand still on the quilt, ready to throw it off and slip out of bed.

“Just—come warm me up instead?” you said softly. “Please?”

His eyebrow quirked up at that. “What’d ya have in mind exactly?” he asked.

“Whatever you think is best,” you said with a small laugh.

He studied your face for a long moment and then moved in toward you. He reached for you, a little hesitantly at first, but more needily when you shifted closer to him, moving into his arms. He tucked you up against him and you nestled into the crook of his neck and sighed contentedly. Your fingers fanned out against his bare chest. “This is perfect,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and you heard it reverberating deeply in his chest. “Warmer?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Happy to help. ’M practically a furnace. Definitely more of an advantage here than when I was growin’ up in Georgia,” he drawled.

“Mmm. I bet,” you hummed. Your fingertip traced the edge of one of the scars on his chest and you leaned in and kissed it. Daryl’s hand smoothed down your arm and onto your waist, following the crest of your hip and then landing on your leg. His fingers grazed over the scarred landscape of your upper leg and at first you flinched away, but his touch was so gentle and steady that you let go of your gripping anxiety and settled in again. You flushed with heat when his hand drifted away and departed to your thigh. His fingertips dimpled into the softness there and then he drew your leg toward his body until it was draped over his. Electric tingles seemed to erupt all over your skin. Your teeth nestled into the pillow of your bottom lip. You nuzzled in against his neck and kissed it gently.

Daryl responded by gently squeezing your thigh.

You kissed his neck again, this time lingering with your lips against his skin.

Goosebumps erupted on Daryl’s skin and he let out a sigh that had a raspy edge to it. You smiled and pulled slightly back so you could look into his face. You hand landed lightly on his chest. The look he gave you was needy.

“What do you say to me letting the dogs out and feeding them, brushing our teeth, and meeting back in here for a hot shower?” you asked him.

Daryl’s eyes flickered over your face. “I say I must be fuckin’ dreamin’.”

You gently trapped a strand of his hair between your fingers and followed its gentle wave down to the end. “You’re not. I’m at least 95% sure.”

“I’ll get the fires goin’ again too while ya let the dogs out. But dun take too long.”

“I won’t.”

Though you both were a little loathe to separate, you untangled yourselves and Daryl threw the covers back and pulled on his discarded pants. He grabbed his shirt off the floor getting ready to pull it on.

“Can I borrow that?” you asked, still shrouded in the sheets.

“This?” he asked, gesturing with his button up. “Ya wanna borrow it?”

“Yeah. Just for five minutes,” you said.

He tossed it to you and watched you pull it on and button it up. It swallowed you up and hung on your smaller frame. You slipped out of bed, your hands tucked in the sleeves. Daryl looked you up and down.

“What do you think?” you asked, laughing at his expression.

“If ya promise to wear it jus’ like that all the time, ya can keep it,” he drawled. He gulped, suddenly nervous again as he wondered at how goddamn beautiful you were, even with sleep messed hair and hidden in his clothes. How the hell had Brian’s dying wish led to here?

You moved past him to greet the dogs, but your fingertips brushed over his bare skin and he shivered from the electric chill they elicited. “Meet you right back here in five minutes?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, nudging his nose up at you in that characteristic Daryl-way.

Dogs pottied and fed, coffee brewing in the kitchen, teeth brushed, you headed back into your bedroom to find Daryl sitting on the side of the bed, petting Strider. A fire was crackling happily in the hearth again. Your heart lifted at the sight of him.

He looked up at the soft padding of your feet and again drank in the sight of you in just his shirt. His chest seemed to burst with heat. You smiled at him. That damn smile, just for him. It didn’t seem to make any fucking sense, but there it was.

“Still up for that shower?” you asked, feeling suddenly a little more shy. You fiddled with your hands hidden in the long sleeves of his shirt.

He nodded. “Yeah. If you are.”

You nodded back. “Yeah. I am.”

Maybe he could sense your sudden vulnerability, or maybe he was just being him but he got up and crossed the space to you and pulled you in against him gently, one hand on your hip and one moving to clasp your face. His eyes flickered between yours. “Ya wanna know ‘bout the first time I thought ya were beautiful?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It was when I woke up on that mat of skins all covered over in blankets in front of the fire, nothin’ on but my damn boxers. And I looked up, and there ya were, just sittin’ on the couch eatin’ a bowl of somethin’, starin’ at me. Sure, I was disoriented and confused as hell, but I just stared at ya and thought ‘Who the hell is this goddamn beautiful woman and why the fuck is she lookin’ at me?’ And then it just never seemed to make any sense… Still don’t really,” he said, ducking his head. “And then I got to know ya and ya got more beautiful every fuckin’ day. And before I knew it, I was in too deep to get out. It was like plungin’ into that frozen lake.”

“You’re one to talk… What kind of person crosses damn near the entire country in a fucking apocalypse to find the sister of a—of a dead man? Just because he asked? And the more I get to know you, the more I realize that’s just who you are. You’ll do anything for the people you care about. It’s a miracle you made it here in one piece and even more of a miracle that we somehow stumbled on each other.”

“I dun exactly believe in God or fate, but tha’s as good’a argument as I’ve ever heard,” Daryl drawled.

“Exactly.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead softly. “C’mon. I need that hot shower. ‘M cold. Somebody stole my damn shirt.”

You grinned up at him and a laugh bubbled out of you. The next moment you laced your fingers with his and tugged him toward the bathroom.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl couldn’t stop smiling at each other. You were still drying off after a rather steamy shower… Daryl felt as though he could still hear the noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you ringing in his ears. Flashes of the water cascading over your collarbone or running along the angle of your shoulder blade as he pressed you against the wall burst in his mind’s eye and—

“Daryl?”

He suddenly realized you were talking to him. “Hmm?”

You laughed and smiled at him, a flush in the apples of your cheeks. “I was asking what you wanted to do today?”

“S—sorry. Uhh… I dunno.” More of what you’d just done would be nice. His cheeks flushed.

You were still smiling at him. “It’s okay. I had an idea,” you said.

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever seen elk up close?” you asked.

“Nah. Not really. I saw some from far out when I was travelin’ here, but that’s it,” he drawled. “Why?”

“I know where the herds hang out in the winter. They’re pretty amazing to see up close. I thought we could go. It’s not too far.”

Daryl gave you a fond look and your heart fluttered. “That sounds—sounds real good. There’s one other thing though…”

“Hmm?”

He nervously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, we should prob’ly check those walker traps we put up the other day.” His stomach dropped at the thought of it. He hadn’t told you that the snares had been triggered the day before and he still needed to dispose of those corpses. The thought of it brought forward more serious conversations that he was dreading trying to broach; the valley flooded with walkers, the fast runners, him having to leave to get back to everyone in the east and the thought of what if you wouldn’t come with… especially now that he’d realized how head over heels he was for you.

You finished pulling your socks on and looked up at him. “You think there will be anything in them?” Daryl thought he heard a slight edge of apprehension in your tone.

“Mmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and then he nodded. “I dunno...” Better tell you now than dragging it on any longer. “But there were some in the snares yesterday.”

Your face dropped. “Oh. Really?”

He nodded, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna ruin the evenin’ again yesterday after the storm and everythin’. ‘M sorry I didn’t tell ya right away.”

Your brow furrowed deeply. “How many were—” You broke off and Daryl could almost see how your mind was whirling. “How many?” Your eyes were a little wide as you looked up at him.

Daryl wished he could tell you otherwise, but he couldn’t. “Three in the snares but I saw more tracks while I was out there. Course they coulda been made by the same ones. I dunno…”

You seemed frozen for a long moment, staring off vaguely at the space ahead of you. At length, you shook your head. “I don’t understand how they’re getting this far up. They shouldn’t be getting this far up the mountain…” You said it more to yourself than to him.

Daryl gulped. “I know.”

You sighed heavily and nervously bit the inside of your cheek. “Alright. Well… we better check those then,” you said, climbing to your feet.

“Ya comin’ with?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want to see what’s out there. Then after, if we feel up to it, I can show you the elk.” You managed to give him a tight smile, but both of you could sense that the bubble of bliss you’d been cloaked in since the previous night had burst. With the thought of the infected weighing heavily on your minds, being tangled in the sheets together and colliding under the steamy shower spray suddenly felt like a lifetime ago.

In a few minutes, you and Daryl were geared up and bundled for the cold. The dogs burst through the cabin door into the snow and bounded happily among the drifts. You slung your recurve bow up on your shoulder and stowed your knife on your hip. “Ready?” you asked.

Daryl was armed and waiting. “Yeah. Followin’ you,” he said. You both stepped out into the deep snow.

It was still quite cold, but less bitter than had been left in the wake of the storm the day before. The dogs seemed to be soaking up the sunshine as they tunneled their noses under the snow and then stopped to sniff the air. You found yourself slightly on edge and watching their body language and behavior closely. Those fucking runners were on your mind. Your eyes scanned the snow and more than once you thought you heard a stick snap in the woods and froze to listen. Having Daryl beside you helped immensely, but you still were hypervigilant.

Eventually you rounded a little knoll and slowed your pace. The snares were just up ahead. Before you even reached them you stopped cold. There was a bright red spot in the snow.

Daryl swung his crossbow down off his shoulder and stepped around you. “What is it?” He stopped and knelt down to look at the blood droplet. He glanced up at you with a furrowed brow.

“That’s really fresh,” you said. You nocked an arrow on your bow and glanced at the dogs. They stood nearby, rigid and listening, noses sniffing incessantly up in the air. Strider let out a low growl.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed softly, standing and scanning the surroundings. “C’mon. These tracks lead off toward the snares anyway.”

You followed behind him now. He took the lead instinctively, protectively, and you relinquished it to him without argument. As you got closer to the snares, you both began to hear faint growling sounds and Strider barked and charged ahead, his hackles raised. Bear took off after him.

As you plunged after them into the trees, you came upon three walkers hoisted by their legs in the snares. The corpses Daryl had left behind the day before were still piled but had obviously been gnawed on only to prove too frozen.

“Shit,” you murmured, lowering your bow. You paced forward past Daryl and stopped almost directly underneath them. You stared up at them, your expression dark. “Strider. Bear. Heel.”

The dogs stopped their circling beneath the infected and came to your sides. You watched the walkers swaying like some kind of perverse piñatas.

“Here,” Daryl said gently. “Just step back a little. I’ll get ‘em.” He touched you lightly on the sleeve.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” you murmured. You seemed to come out of your trance and you raised you bow again, drawing it back and letting an arrow fly squarely into the forehead of the closest walker reaching for you where it dangled. It stilled and a thick trickle of blood oozed down and dripped into the snow. You walked forward and retrieved your arrow before repeating the process with the remaining caught infected. The final one, however, was clearly not of the typical sluggish variety. It moved violently in the snare, its arms flailing with alarming speed as it growled and yelled and attempted to reach you. You felt nauseous as you nocked your arrow one final time and it was more difficult to aim with the runner’s frantic movements spinning and swinging it on the end of the rope. But when you let your arrow go, it landed with deadly accuracy. The silence that fell seemed deafening and neither you, nor Daryl, or even the dogs moved for a long moment. The bodies continued to sway in front of you slightly.

Finally, Daryl glanced back over at you, trying to read your face. It was marked with deep disconcertion. “Ya okay?” he asked.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh and shook your head. “Not really.” You finally looked over at him and your eyes seem large and worried, as if the rest of you was shrinking away in front of him. “Another one of those—those runner things,” you said. “Fuck.” You ducked your head and ran a hand over your face. Bear sat down beside you and whined, clearly sensing your mood. You reached over absently and sunk your fingertips into his thick fur.

Daryl went to each snare and lowered the bodies, pulling them to the pile of the infected from the day before. While he reset the snares, you unpacked a load dry wood from your pack and tossed it on, adding green pine boughs to the pile too. Daryl poured on the mix of oil and gas he’d brought from the shop and threw a lit match on.

The two of you stood side by side and watched it burn for a long time without speaking. The snow around it hissed and sizzled. The wood popped. The forest around you was silent. Finally, you shifted beside him.

“We’re probably gonna have to come back with more wood and stuff tomorrow. Finish mopping up this mess.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers moved anxiously over his crossbow, fiddling with this and that. “Ya wanna just go home?” he asked, hazarding a glance at your expression again.

You paused thoughtfully for a moment and then tried to rally yourself. “No. I’m not gonna let a few of these undead fucks ruin our whole day.” You straightened up and met his eyes.

He gave you a half-smile. “Well, tha’s good. ‘Cause somebody promised me an elk today.”

“Are you still up for it?” you asked, for the first time realizing how truly worried he had looked only moments ago.

“Hell yeah,” he drawled. He shouldered his bow again. “Lead the way.”

You whistled to the dogs and left the snares behind. It took you a little time to find the path you wanted to take in the deep snow, but once you found the stone marker you’d placed yourself years ago, the walk was easier. Deep game trails were already cut through the drifts by deer and other wildlife and you were able to pass easily over the compacted snow. The walk was scenic and Daryl found himself stopping every so often to admire some glen that seemed iced in fairytale white or to peer up at a jagged rock outcropping that towered overhead. You always noticed when he’d slowed or stopped and you would pace back to stand beside him and appreciate the scene too. And then he often found himself gazing at you instead.

“Come on, quit that,” you laughed once, having caught him looking at you instead of at the partially frozen little creek you’d both stopped beside.

The corners of his eyes crinkled a little in the ghost of a smile. “Why?”

“Because it’s making me blush,” you retorted. There was definitely heat blooming in your face.

He shrugged. “I can’t tell. Yer cheeks are already pink from the cold.”

You’d linked your arm with his and leaned your head against his shoulder then. The gentle babbling of the creek was a perfect soundtrack and lifted both of your spirits after the grim discovery earlier. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

Daryl let you slip apart from him and followed behind you again. You led him down a little dip into a coulee which widened into an open area rimmed with trees. You slowed and began to move quietly, digging into the side pocket of your pack for your binoculars. You scanned the snow and soon began to see elk prints. You pointed them out to Daryl. “The herd likes to hang out around here in the winter. It’s protected from the wind and has plenty of browse.”

Daryl examined the hoof print, awed by the size of it. “When do ya think these are from? Last night?”

“Mmm,” you nodded, looping the strap of your binoculars around your neck. “Looks like. Come on.” You made the dogs walk beside you again and began to weave through the trees to a spot you usually were able to conceal yourself in and have some good views of the elk herd lounging.

But Daryl nearly ran into you when you stopped dead in front of him.

“Y/N?” He could feel how your body tensed. “S’goin’ on?”

He watched as you raised the binoculars to your eyes and peered through them. Your voice was airy and disconnected when you tried to speak. “There’s a—I think there’s an elk kill ahead but it’s—it doesn’t—”

Daryl’s heart started to pound. “Doesn’t what?”

“It doesn’t look right,” you said. “Something—something’s wrong.”

“What d’ya mean?” Daryl squinted ahead through the trees. Adrenaline was coursing through his bloodstream. His hearing seemed to sharpen.

“I can’t—I need to get closer,” you said, lowering the binoculars again. Your face was ashen.

“Hold up. Ya sure tha’s a good idea?”

The deep caverns of worry lines were back in your forehead again. “We need to go look at this. Trust me.”

Daryl hesitated, but finally nodded. The hair on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end as the two of you stepped forward. A raven took out from the top of a tall pine and its throaty croak echoed around you. More birds rose ahead and joined in the rasping calls. He had the overwhelming sense that things were about to irrevocably change for the worse.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

Text

The course of nature (Negan x Fem!Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, smut, breeding kink, Negan’s filthy mouth, implied reader x daryl, forced breeding, unprotected sex, mentons of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary) might miss some warnings.

+18 MINORS DNI

TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7)

Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is

He took a long sigh as he watched Alexandria disappear in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know why, he didn’t understand it, but Negan felt something bitter inside of him… he had a tangy flavor in his mouth even though he still had the taste of the lemonade that Olivia woman made for him. He contemplated the reason behind his bitterness… jealousy? And he came to the conclusion that under all the mockery that subdued Carl to… about killing him and Rick and moving into the suburbs, having his “summer home” there… There was some truth about it, a dark, deep desire.

The pretty house in the suburbs, drinking lemonade on the porch rocking in a comfortable chair, children laughing and running around… and a baby, his baby. For a second he let his mind wander, thinking it was his baby he was cuddling against his chest, dark locks, big chestnut eyes just like his looking up at him from the comfort of his chest… Oh my, it was a nice dream… a dream he could make happen he only needed to take care of Rick, Carl, and… well…

He had 6 wives, he had to replace some of them along the way, the last one he lost had to be replaced by you. Oh how much he enjoyed the look of desperation on Rick's face when he made clear that he would take everything and everyone he liked, and his gloved finger pointed at you.

Especially Daryl, that deranged maniac, his future soldier, the way he leaped and came at him like a beast ready to rip his yugular, only stopping when he made Arat point a gun to your pretty little head. Oh how he enjoyed that.

He wondered if you were the one that warmed his bed every night and warmed his cock every mornin’. He also wondered if that is what made it so easy for you to comply with him.

“Become my wife or I’ll go back to that little town of yours and bash little Daryl’s head in and I’ll rub your face in his brains” It went something like that. You did shed a few tears the first time he had you, but oh how you squeezed him inside your tight walls when he made you cum again and again in his big fat cock. He made it up to you, he made sure of it. He took his time breaking you in until you were looking back at him not with fear or hate but with a complacent look on your beautiful eyes and a shy smile on your delicious lips. He had even disregarded his other wifes, sharing his bed only with you. Because when he was fucking you he was fucking with Prick-Rick, and with Shit-head-Daryl and because fucking the enemy had always been a huge turn on for him.

With his wives he constantly used protection, or made sure that they took contraceptive drugs, or he used the old method of pulling out, it was actually a miracle that he hadn't knocked someone up yet.

But now he found himself in the want for it… the desire… he couldn’t quite pinpointed it, it was a need so primal inside of him…

Having Judith in his arms changed something inside of him. And in his mind everything became clearer when he revived a conversation he had had with his sweet Lucille, a conversation they held about having kids… He wanted a kid with her so badly… But she was gone

He stood in the doorframe of the lounge, looking at his wives. He came in so silently they didn’t notice him standing there, so he watched every single one of them. Who could be the one to carry his litter? he wondered

Amber? God no, she would drown that poor babe in booze inside of her. Tanya? poor thing, she wasn’t his favorite, far from it, he only married her to make someone fall in line. Who was that dark haired one? He couldn't quite remember.

He regretted Sherry to be gone, gods she was a beauty, his favorite, not very smart, but enough smart to survive in this world

Frankie? perhaps? She was a good candidate. She was the only one who found him staring and gave him a sweet little smile. She was smoking hot

But he kept walking, to reach the room you cornered yourself in. To his surprise it was open, he found you crossed legged on the bed, reading a book. You weren’t wearing any of the nice black dresses he lent you, no, you were insistent on wearing those run down jeans and flannel, the ones you were wearing the day he grabbed you. He had them washed and all, but still…

“Killed any of my family members today?” you ask bitterly. Of course you noticed him without even looking, you were beyond comprehension for him

“Not yet… but there's plenty of day left” he mocked, well he did kill that traitor, but he didn’t count, he thought, he did however take only 25% of what he said he was going to take from your group. Everything inside of his head today was you. That’s when you looked up to him with a frown on your beautiful face.

It was you

You were hot as hell, smart as his best man, and he has seen you taking walkers one by one with that ax so beautifully, almost like you were dancing. You got the looks, the brains, and the strength, bonus points for being part of Prick-Rick’s little possie

“I’m so stressed…” he whined with a smirk, “I need something, someone to relieve it…”, he knew you knew what that meant, and he chuckled when you raised your face to look at him with a tired look on your face but smiling widely

“You are a horndog” you mocked, and he nodded slowly, with smirk on his face

Even if the beginning of your “relationship” had a rocky start, you enjoyed fucking him as much as he enjoyed fucking you. leaving behind the coercion this became like a treat, something enjoyable for the two of you. You weren’t afraid to ask things of him, and he wasn’t against trying new things, so you begun to have a strange friends with benefits kind of arrangement, where the sex became so fucking hot for the both of you, and the pillow talk afterwards became something as enjoyable as the multiple orgasms he took from you each round.

“I can’t marry you” you answered, but before he could threaten you again you explain, “but I can be your mistress” you offered, at first he seemed offended by what you implied, but when he saw you were serious, his frown turned into an amused grin

“My mistress?”

“See, it’s like being your friend…” you explain, “you come to me, pamper me, I screw you good, you talk to me about your problems and then you leave”

“So what’s the difference between becoming my wife?” he asked then

“Just the title” being someone’s wife meant something to you, it was too important, too permanent, so you hoped he indulged you, “you have wives, you don’t have mistresses” you turn this into making him think it was about some childish jealousy. So you felt relieved when he smiled wickedly

“Oh I see, you are looking for exclusivity” he teased, and you congratulated yourself for the sheepishly smile and the lower of your eyesight that made him believe he had nailed his suspicion

He let you guide him towards his room, you already knew he preferred to fuck you in his huge bed and silky sheets

Even if at first this man scared the living shit out of you, and you know he was perfectly capable of making good on his threats and killing your family… despite all of that… he was an amazing lover. He fucked you so good it made you shake on his hold, and in your head you justified it, “if you fuck him good he is going to take off the heat on your loved ones” he was going to leave them alone if you pleased him.

His greedy hands were on you in a second, the gloved one leaving goosebumps in your skin, he got rid of your flannel and then admired your chest clad in lingerie. He got rid of your jeans and shoes, to leave you only in underwear. With those out of the way he let you push him back into the bed. His signature bat was forgotten on the floor, just like his leather jacket, he was only in his simple cotton white t-shirt and jeans..

You managed to straddle him, loving the way he would fight you just enough for you to realize he was the one in control, but relenting after a little while, everything with Negan was like that. you moaned when you felt the roughness of his denim against the soft skin of the inside of your thighs, bucking your hips just a little bit to enjoy the friction. He grunted under you, with that big smiles of him, looking at you with big shiny eyes

“Fuck you are beautiful” he grunted, and you felt your cheeks heated, you accomodated yourself down his legs, so you’d have the space to remove his jeans just enough so you’d release his lenght, you leaned in, wanting to taste him, wanting to choke on his thick cock, but he stopped you

“Fuck I need to bury myself in that pussy” he demanded, grabbing you by the neck and make you rose yourself up until you were face to face. You only moaned, “you ready baby?” he asked teasingly. His hand sneaking down your body until his fingers teased your entrance, making you moan when he found you embarrassingly wet, dripping almost. He chuckled darkly, giving you that look again

“Fuck” he grunted, “you are soaking wet” he only moved the g tring he made you wear aside, an easy acces, he seemed to be in a hurry, he wanted you now, fast.

“For you” you admitted, leaning down to catch his mouth on yours, you kissed him roughly, with need, and he answered just the same, wanting to devour you. He accommodated you on top of him and you let him adjust you and him until the tip of his cock was placed in your entrance, and you did the rest, lowering your hips, impaling yourself on him.

The stretch still burned, but you would be lying if you say you didn’t just loved the way it felt, his thick length opening you up for him, it was always a tight fit

“Jeesus FUCK” he almost yelled, making you sneak a giggle between your wanting moans. He was so deep inside you you could feel him on your belly. It wasn't long before he playfully slapped your ass, encouraging you to ride him, and you started a soft but decisive sway, it was slow but determined, feeling every ridge and vein on his cock inside your tight walls.

“Mmmm Negan”, you moaned, snapping your hips back and forth. His hands grabbed your tits, squeezing them over the transparent fabric of your bra

“Fuck I love it when you moan my name” he graoned, his hands firmly on your hips, helping you set the unforgiving pace, “You are so hot” it was unusual for him to compliment you that much, so you just ignored it, he probably didn’t mean it. He had six wives, so you didn’t tend to take anything he told you seriously. So you just enjoyed riding him, building your own orgasm, it came slowly, like strong waves crushing on the shore, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands grabbed the white t shirt he was wearing tightly, threatening to rip it off of him

“Damn girl” he grunted, “Are you using me to get off? that’s how it feels like” you only giggled, riding your climax slowly, feeling incredibly sensitive.

But that wasn’t in Negan's plans….

He grabbed you by the hips, leaning up so fast you didn’t know what was happening until your back touched the mattress, he had turned you over to regain his full control. You didn't have time to ponder, he started railing you rougher than before, the metal head of the bed banged against the concrete wall. Your hand traveled to his back, your nails sinking into his skin, wanting to have something to hold on to. He slammed his hips into your roughly, hearing like he was applauding, his skin against yours.

“Negan,'' you called, slowing down on your climax, but he is still thrusting against you, grunting like a wounded animal. He didn’t pay attention to you, too focused on chasing his own release. You slapped his shoulder, like asking for a timeout, and just then he looked down at you, smirking

“What is it?” he asked

“You are not wearing a condom, you need to pull out” you whined. He only smirked, chuckling darkly in your ear making the little hairs at the back of your head stand up. He didn’t stop, in fact, he fucked you ever rougher, making you whine, your eyes rolling tot he back of your head at the hardness of his thrusts, and in a second, you forgot all about protection, you only cared to reach that second orgasm before he finished

“Oh fuck” you moaned, scratching his back with your nails, your legs chained around his hips, encouraging him. With one graze of the tip of his cock in your special spot did the trick, you cum, hard, your walls strangled his length, making him grunt, stilling deep inside of you, filling you up nicely with his cum.

He dropped his weight on top of you, his heavy breathing on your neck, he hugged you tightly against him, still inside of you, you both regained your breaths slowly. You caressed his sweaty back and he seemed to purr in your ear

“Fuck you are so sweet baby” he murmured. One of the things you enjoyed most about him was that he was a cuddler, he loved the contact after sex. He dropped lazy kisses along your jaw and cheek, nuzzling the skin with his nose

“Negan” you whispered, wanting to drift to sleep even though it was still a gray light outside

“You ok?” he asked against your ear, you just nodded, “That was intense”

“It was amazing,” you whispered. He slowly took himself off of you. You winced when you felt his cock slip off of you, his cum trickling down your thighs. The sensation didn’t last long, he was there, grabbing you and encouraging you to sneak under the covers. He was still dressed, but that didn’t matter, he spooned you, making you feel safe and comfortable between his strong arms. He kissed the top of your head and led you to a dreamless sleep.

“Negan…” he mumbled, oh how much he loved the fear he inspired in his… subjects

“Hey doc” he followed with his eyes the young woman that left the consult bowing her head in his direction. He waited until she completely left the medical room and closed the door behind her, “I’m glad you are finding yourself at home” he smiled at him

“I’m glad I’m here, you know I’m an obstetrician and this girls… need help”

“I’m happy to know saviors are reproducing” he said, genuinely pleased, “speaking of which” the doctor then eyed him suspiciously, “One of my wives, but she’ll tell you otherwise… is going to come here, asking you for a day-after pill” he said slowly and in a dangerous whisper, not losing for a second his intimidating eye contact

“Ok…” he muttered

“You are going to give her a fake” he said gravelly

“I don’t understand…she is going to ask for a contraceptive pill, and you want me to give her a placebo? a fake?”

“See, doc? you are smart” he chuckled, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezing dangerously

“You want her to get pregnant?” Negan gave him a serious look, the one that made the doc shiver

“Do you get my meaning?” he asked then, he nodded

“Yes Sir” he then smiled, pleased

“If you give her the real deal, I will know” he muttered, swinging Lucille until she perched on his shoulder

“Ok Sir” he mumbled, nodding

“We need to repopulate the earth” he said matter-of-factly, “That is the course of nature after all”

next part here

#misguidedtwd #negan #negan smut #negan x you #negan x reader #the walking dead #twd negan #jeffrey dean morgan #twd fanfiction

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

Text

Right on the Wrong Side of It All

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Savior Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, blood, injuries

Summary: Negan doesn’t take Daryl. In the aftermath of the lineup, you’re trying to keep it together while Daryl is falling apart.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

It wasn’t that you didn’t care about the others. You were all in the same predicament. You were all scared. You were all angry. Now, you would all have to grieve. There was still the prospect that the casualties were not yet culminated.

The certifiable leader of the Saviors was currently tormenting Rick using Carl. While that in itself was enough to sour your stomach, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from your archer.

Daryl had been dragged out of the back of a van, a dingy blanket wrapped around his bloody shoulders. With several friends between the two of you, you couldn’t make out the wound clearly. What you could see was the pallor that was growing more profound; the way his eyes fluttered and struggled to remain open.

His condition only worsened after his outburst.

Negan was taunting Rosita with a bat lathered in Abraham’s blood and brain matter. Daryl launched himself at the man and landed a solid punch. Your cries rang louder than anyone’s when the archer was taken down and his own crossbow was aimed at his head.

“Please, not him.” You pleaded, bowing your head when Negan approached you. His lip was still curled in distaste at Daryl’s actions but he seemed willing to entertain your demands.

“Well, well, well. Someone knows how to behave.” You waited for the bat to meet your chin but the leather-clad maniac curled a finger there instead, guiding you to look at him. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

“My—my name is Y/N.” You managed to stammer out between sobs.

“Is that right? Now, Y/N, mind tellin’ me why a pretty little creature like you would speak up for mangy macho man over there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out more tears, while he stroked a gloved finger down your jaw. You could hear Daryl’s struggles renew with threatening shouts becoming muffled when his face was pressed further into the dirt. You opened your eyes and fixed the man in front of you with the most supplicated gaze you could manage. “He’s my husband. Please, god, please don’t hurt him.”

“God? Well, sugar, I’ve been called a few things but never god.” The way he laughed made you cringe but you kept your watery eyes engaged. He continued to smile at you, a sly leer that made your stomach flip. “Dwight.” He called over his shoulder. “Get him back in line.”

“But—”

“Now, I know you weren’t about to question me.” Negan’s smile finally faltered. He patted your cheek and stood, twirling that damn bat with a flourish that was meant to sling around your friend’s blood.

You were able to drag your gaze away from it to watch Daryl be roughly deposited back in his former spot, panting and grunting with a pained grimace. You willed his eyes to find yours, and he obliged, but he looked down at his knees when you slowly shook your head.

“Now I already told you people—first one’s free, then—what’d I say?” Negan leaned back to add a certain brashness to the words. “I said I would shut that shit down. No exceptions.” There was a foreboding heaviness that settled in the air. You found yourself breathing harder, digging your fingers into the dirt. “Now, I don’t know what kinda lying assholes you’ve been dealing with but I’m a man of my word.” He smiled at Daryl, resulting in you baring your teeth like some feral beast ready to rip the man’s throat out to protect your mate. “First impressions are important. I need you to know me. So…back to it.”

You screamed when the bat came down on Glenn’s head.

Negan and his cronies had departed a while ago, but everyone was still sitting where they had been left. The air was pregnant with a cacophony of sobs while the birds continued to sing as nature awoke to a new day. Maggie was the first to move, Rick pleading with her to sit; to continue the journey to Hilltop. To Alexandria. Anywhere but where you were.

You began to stir from your own torpor, instinctively seeking out Daryl. He was sitting on his hip, one leg outstretched while he leaned onto his good hand. He was staring vacantly at the ground as he swayed on the spot.

“Daryl.” You whispered. Your voice didn’t want to cooperate but it made no difference. You were already crawling toward him. You didn’t dare trust your legs. “Daryl.” You tried again once you reached him. Your arms instantly encircled his neck of their own accord, holding him close. The feel of his warm breath hitting your neck in shallow puffs of air made your tears begin anew. He was still alive. They could have taken him from you but he was still alive. “Can you look at me?”

His head turned slowly, bleary eyes finding yours. You touched his cheek, finding it cold; his skin clammy. He said something so quietly that you didn’t catch it.

“What?”

“S’my fault.” He repeated, a tremble to his tone.

“It’s not.” You brushed his sweaty locks out of his face. He looked terrible. Pale with dark circles around his eyes; his lips colorless. His shirt was sticky with blood. “We need to get you to Hilltop. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” He didn’t fight you when you began to peel the fabric away from the wound. “It went clean through but it had to be close range. It made a mess.” The wound had clotted, thankfully, but he wasn’t out of the woods. He had already lost too much. There was the possibility of infection. “Rick, we need to go. Maggie and Daryl need medical attention.”

“I’m trying, Y/N.” The former sheriff was exasperated and rightfully so.

Daryl rested his head against your shoulder, trembling with the effort to hold back his tears. Your arms encircled him while you stroked his hair and whispered reassurances. “Just take it easy. I’ve got you.” You looked up as Rick kneeled beside you, his eyes bloodshot and face still wet. “Maggie?”

“Sasha’s gonna take care of her. Keep her safe.” He rested a hand on Daryl’s knee and squeezed. The archer didn’t stir. “How’s he doin’?”

“We’re all in some form of shock right now but he’s in medical shock. We need to get him to Hilltop. Bastards let him sit and bleed.” You hissed, rubbing circles on Daryl’s back.

“You told Negan Daryl was your husband.”

You shrugged. “He might as well be. I just wanted to give him something. Play the sympathy card.” You glanced over at Maggie, feeling your heart contract. “It worked.” You felt horrible about it, you couldn’t help it. Still, your partner was alive and breathing in your arms. Your relief outweighed your guilt.

“Let me get Aaron. We’ll get him loaded up.”

You felt Daryl growing heavier and heavier. “Hurry. Please hurry.” You pleaded, holding your archer tighter. Rick nodded and pushed himself up, calling for Aaron. “I’ve got you, Daryl. I’ve got you. Hang on for me. Okay? I need you to hold on.”

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