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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 30 days

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Words: 6,924 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers), really none! it's mostly fluff! Summary: Daryl realizes how touch-starved he's been and exactly who he wants to satisfy that with. Really just sweet, vulnerable Daryl.[he is baby in this fic 100%]

Daryl startled awake, shooting straight up on his bed.

“Wow! Sorry! I was trying to wake you up gently!”

He looked up at her with a steely glare. Then he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, the frantic alarmed feeling passing quickly as he realized it was just Carol. “The hell ya wakin’ me up for at all? I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was nearly up,” he growled, swinging his legs down over the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He still had his boots on.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry… but I really could use a hand. The water line is clogged up with mud again. The others are going to keep the herd on the fence occupied and thin the numbers down while I try to clear it. I could use you to watch my back.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, alrigh’. Just gimme a few minutes. I’ll meet ya out in the yard.”

“Okay, Pookie” she teased him, smiling. She reached to affectionately smooth a hand over his tousled hair but he deflected it hurriedly and shot her another look that made her laugh. “I’ll see you in a minute,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, go on and get outta here… Pain in my ass,” he grumbled, climbing to his feet.

As Carol’s footsteps retreated outside his cell, he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the cell wall. His hair was a mess and he did what he could to hastily smooth it with his hands before abandoning the effort with a grunt. He hurriedly grabbed his crossbow and fixed his knife in its sheath at his hip. Relacing his boots to make sure they were tight, he called it good and made his way through the prison.

As he stepped outside into the sunlight, he could already see that things were busy despite the early morning hour. Rick and Carl were in the garden plots with Hershel and everyone else seemed to either be chopping and stacking firewood or working down on the fence. It was rare for Daryl not to be the first one awake and it left him feeling off-balance. He hadn’t been sleeping hardly at all and it must have finally added up to pure exhaustion since he’d actually caught a few hours until Carol woke him.

His blue eyes, squinted against the light, searched for you out of subconscious habit. He spotted you alongside Glenn and Maggie on the fence. He felt his heart skipping a beat.

The gravel crunched under his boots as he headed to meet Carol who was waiting at the gate that led to the alleyway between the fences. She greeted him with a tight smile. “Ready?”

“Yep. Good to go,” he replied.

Carol opened the gate and Daryl followed her in. Soon they were passing by you, Glenn, and Maggie putting down walkers through the chainlink.

“Are you alright, Daryl?” Maggie called out, shading her eyes with a gloved hand. “I thought maybe you were sick or somethin’,” she said.

“Yeah, unusual for any of us to be up before you,” Glenn agreed, leaning on the metal rod in his hand.

“Christ, ev’rybody’s got somethin’ to say about it,” Daryl retorted. “Can’t a man get a couple hours of sleep for once?”

You turned after putting down a particularly large and loud walker, gore dripping off the end of the sharpened makeshift spear in your hand and you wiped at the stray strands of your hair that were sticking to your face with your arm. You skin was already glistening with sweat despite it being far from the hottest part of the day. You smiled at Daryl, squinting against the sun. “I didn’t say anything,” you laughed.

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” Daryl said, meeting your eyes. “Yer the only damn one…” He gulped, always a little nervous when your full attention was on him.

“Alright, alright,” Carol said, laughing. “I think we’ve teased poor Daryl enough for actually sleeping. Just keep the herd down this end, away from the water line, okay? We’re heading out to clear it now.”

You all nodded and returned to the task at hand. Daryl couldn’t help glancing back at you over his shoulder a few times, until he slipped out of the hole to the outside behind Carol and closed it back up behind him, lacing the sturdy wire back through the fencing and pulling it tight.

Carol pulled the water line up out of the creek and began twisting apart sections of it to clear out the mud and muck. “Yuck… no wonder we were hardly pulling any water in,” she said, shaking a particularly large chunk of red Georgia clay out of the nozzle.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes scanned the surrounding tall grass and trees for any approaching stray walkers, but he found that they continually seemed to return to you on the fence almost on their own.

“Hey. Hey!” Carol was suddenly laughing. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Daryl’s eyes snapped back to her. “Sorry.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and a small, perhaps slightly knowing, smile curved her lips. “Distracted?” she asked.

He shifted. “Are ya done?”

Carol laughed to herself again and dusted off her hands. “Yeah, I think so.” She walked back to the stream with the end of the hose and dropped it back into the creek. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked as the two of them started back up the slope toward the fence.

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe work on my bike. Probably due for a tune-up,” he drawled, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder.

She nodded. “Sorry I woke you up. I was shocked you were still sleeping to be honest. I waited around a bit but—"

“Nah, s’alrigh’. I probably needed to get up anyway,” he replied, glancing ahead toward the fence again. The herd of walkers was dwindling with the efficient work of you and the others but the bodies were piling up on the outside now. Clean-up duty would be needed.

“Well, you should head inside and eat something,” Carol said. “I know you haven’t had anything yet today.”

He ran a hand back through his hair and nodded. “Yeah… maybe in a bit. I think ‘m gonna start pilin’ up those carcasses. We’ll need to burn ‘em later and it ain’t no good havin’ ‘em up against the fence, attractin’ new walkers.”

Carol stopped. “Oh. Yeah, true. I’ll help. Looks like they’re about done anyway,” she said.

He nodded and they strode over, dew down in the longer tufts of grass wetting their boots and hems. There were maybe six walkers left clawing at the fence and they were quickly cut down to three as he and Carol approached on the outside. Daryl pulled his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on as Carol walked over, watching the last upright body fall onto the pile a moment later.

“How’s the water line?” you asked, gripping the fence, the tips of your fingers poking through.

“Should be all cleared out now,” Carol said. “Nice work,” she said, referring to the pile of bodies at her feet. “Daryl and I will start pulling these away from the fence and piling them to be burned.”

“Alright. I’ll come help,” you said, setting down the metal rod you’d been wielding and briefly wiping at the sweat glistening on your forehead with your forearm again.

“You sure? You’ve done more than your fair share of hard labor today,” Carol said. “Looks like Maggie and Glenn are already heading back up to rest.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” you said. “It’ll go faster with three of us.”

“Alright. Come on out! Thanks,” Carol said, giving you a grateful smile.

You nodded and hurried to let yourself out the makeshift opening to the outside. Daryl had already dragged away four bodies in the time it took for you to make your way over. You offered him a wide smile that had his heart jumping and he paused before he grabbed another walker, lacing the fingers of his gloves together in a nervous gesture. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled. “Ya ain’t gotta help with this. Ya did a lot of work on them from the other side,” he said. Your cheeks and chest were flushed red with heat and effort and the cotton of your t-shirt was clinging to your damp skin.

You shrugged. “I’m all good. It’ll get done sooner this way,” you said. He watched your eyes flickering up over his face a couple times and he became suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

You laughed lightly. “Oh—it’s just—you’ve got this one piece of hair sticking up—it’s been defying gravity since you first came out here. I’m just a little surprised it’s still hanging in there,” you joked. You pulled your gloves off and stepped up to him. “It’s just sticking straight up,” you laughed again, attempting to smooth it gently.

An electric shiver ran up Daryl’s back as your fingers combed through his hair. “What’s it matter?” he drawled, attempting to sound gruff and not what he was actually feeling… which was completely jittery. “Ain’t like ‘m tryin’ to win a beauty contest out here.”

“Oh, so you want to be a unicorn? Got it,” you teased him, redoubling your efforts and using both hands and your fingernails to try to combat the stray strand, but it only sprung right back up. You laughed again, your eyes crinkling at the corners. A fluttery feeling burst between Daryl’s lungs. You sighed and shook your head, stepping back and crossing your arms, surveying him. “Nope. Won’t cooperate. I guess you are stuck as a wild unicorn today,” you said. “At least until it comes in contact with a wet comb.”

“Comb? I dunno if I’ve even got one of those,” he joked. “Thanks for tryin’,” Daryl said, half-sarcastically. You only flashed him another grin. You pulled your gloves back on and headed back to the fence to grab a walker. Carol stopped beside Daryl and he grabbed the body she was dragging by the ankles and helped her swing it onto the newly-formed pile. She gave him an appraising look when she stood up, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “What?” he asked.

“No, nothing,” she said, smiling vaguely. But it certainly wasn’t lost on her that when she had attempted to ruffle his hair, her hand had been pushed away brusquely.

Daryl ducked his head and went back to work. You were still at the fence when he walked up beside you. You were attempting to untangle a disgusting mass of limbs to pull a single walker out. Your nose wrinkled and you let out a noise of disgust. “I don’t think I will ever get used to the smell of them,” you mused aloud.

Daryl looked up, about to respond, but suddenly your feet went out from under you and you were landing hard on your back, all the breath pushed out of your body. “Y/N!”

There was a surprisingly strong hand that had emerged from the pile of bodies gripping your ankle and low, muffled growls emanated from a walker beneath the heap that was not quite dead.

Daryl jumped into action immediately, stomping his boot down onto the grasping arm until it released you and then quickly tugging you away by gripping you under the arms. He collapsed down on the ground behind you and you came to rest partially against him, still gasping for air as your lungs had not yet returned to normal, still seized up from the fall. You found yourself completely unaware that you were laying back against his chest as you just focused on trying to breathe. Daryl didn’t dare move.

Carol came running over at full speed. “Oh my God! Are you okay?!”

All you could do was nod urgently, unable to talk still. You pressed a hand to your chest and willed your lungs to start drawing in air again. Your heart was pounding.

“Fucker didn’t scratch ya ,did he? Please, tell me he didn’t…” Daryl gasped. “Carol, check her ankles quick!”

Carol quickly bent over you and looked, sighing with relief. “No, she’s clean.”

It was about that time that your lungs started working again and you realized you were sort of on top of Daryl. “Oh, shit,” you breathed, sitting up and turning. “I’m sorry. I—I’m leaning on you,” you said hurriedly.

Daryl shook his head, his brow still furrowed deeply. “S’alrigh’. Are ya okay? Ya sure?”

You nodded, trying hard to slow your breathing and heart rate. “I’m okay. Just startled me more than anything.”

Daryl climbed to his feet and offered you his hand. He pulled you up. You both watched as Carol kicked a body aside and plunged her knife into the head of the walker that had grabbed you and was still moving. “Got him,” she said, straightening up, her knife dripping blood onto the grass.

It was then that you realized your hand was still in Daryl’s. He hadn’t let go. You could feel the calluses on his palms from digging with the shovels the week before and the calluses on his fingertips from drawing back his crossbow. His thumb was closed gently over the back of your hand. He seemed to have realized then that the moment had passed when he should have relinquished his gentle hold on you and he suddenly drew back, wiping his hand on his pants as if that would rid it of the electric tingle on his palm. “Are ya sure yer okay?” he asked again.

“Fine. I’m fine… just knocked the wind out of me for a minute,” you said.

“How was that one not dead?” he growled, moving to peer down at the body.

“Here,” Carol said, pointing at the neck. “Looks like whoever was trying to put it down just missed the back of head.”

Daryl straightened up, looking worried still. “We’ll have to remind ev’rybody to be more careful on the fence. What if somebody had gotten bit ‘cuz that fucker wasn’t quite dead?”

“It could’ve been my fault,” you said quickly. “I was working the fence too.”

“Well, I doubt ya need the reminder now,” Daryl said seriously, giving you a concerned look. You only nodded. “Look, why dun ya just head back up to the prison for a bit. Get outta the sun and get some water.”

You cocked your head as you looked at him. “What? No,” you laughed. “You think that’s enough to scare me off? Hell no, Dixon,” you said, already smiling at him again. “Let’s get this shit done.”

Carol smiled and shrugged. “You heard her, Dixon,” she teased, leaning down to grab another corpse by the wrists and pull it away.

The pile moved away from the fence and ready to be burned, you and Carol were about to start back to the prison when there was a rustling in the brush nearby. A scraggly looking walker wandered out and started toward the group of you, reaching up with hands that were missing several fingers.

Daryl unsheathed his knife with a well-practiced movement. “I got it,” he said, jogging over to put it down with a skillful stab to the head. He paced back, wiping his knife on his pants. “I’ll ask Rick where he put the gas/oil mixture for burnin’ this later. Ain’t no reason we gotta do it in this sun. Let’s head back up,” he drawled.

You nodded in agreement and pulled your gloves off, glancing at him with a half-smile. “Hey, do you have your bandana on you?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he said pulling it out from his back pocket and offering it to you. “Why?”

You took it, stepped in close to him, and dabbed at a spray of blood on the side of his neck from the walker he’d just put down, wiping it away. “You didn’t feel it?” you laughed. “Apparently it was a juicy one.” You held his bandana out to him again.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling his face flush a little with heat. He noticed Carol watching the interaction with that same vague smile on her face. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Alrigh’. Let’s head back inside them fences… One close call is more than enough for today.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl saw you again in a few hours, he could tell you’d cleaned up after your morning shift on the fence. Your hair was down, framing your face and was shining in the sun. There was no more sweat or grime clinging to your skin anymore. You waved as you caught his eyes already on you and he gulped as you made your way over.

Daryl, on the other hand, was still just as filthy as he had been when you all left the pile of walkers outside the fence behind, perhaps moreso. His hands were covered in oil and grime from working on his bike. He felt suddenly self-conscious as you stopped beside him in your fresh clothes.

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Me?” Daryl straightened up next to his bike.

“Yeah. Carol said you haven’t eaten anything all day,” you said pointedly, your eyebrows lifting.

He shrugged. “Just ain’t gotten around to it yet, I guess,” he drawled, fiddling with the tool in his hands.

“I see. You’re just entirely too busy to take care of yourself?” you retorted. As you talked, you reached out and wiped away a smudge of oil on his forearm casually.

Daryl, however, couldn’t be casual about the spark he’d just felt from that little touch of your fingertip. It jumped up to his arm and seemed to have made its way to his heart, because it was now racing. He gulped.

“Well, what if I fix you a bowl of something and bring it out? You worked hard this morning. You should eat,” you said, cocking your head at him. “We can’t have you suddenly passing out out here and faceplanting onto the cement,” you teased him.

He fixed his blue eyes on you for a long moment. “Ya ain’t gotta do that. ‘M almost done out here. I can come in and—”

You grabbed his arm again and Daryl almost stepped backwards from the way his body seemed to react to your touch again. It was nearly overwhelming. “Daryl, what I asked was if you would eat it if I brought it out. It’s a simple question,” you said, shooting him a playful look. “So?” Your hand was still on his arm. It was light and gentle, but he could feel the softness of your skin. He stared at it for a long second and then managed to clear his throat enough to respond. “Y—yeah, I’d eat it, I guess.”

“Good,” you said, nodding. “I’ll be right back then.” You disappeared back inside.

Rick happened to wander by carrying the gas can for burning the pile of walkers just a minute later. Daryl was bent over his bike, muttering expletives under his breath. “Ho—watch out!” Rick said suddenly, and Daryl shot up as he felt Rick’s hand brush his back.

Daryl jumped, spun around, and shook him off. “What the hell, man?” Daryl growled.

Rick laughed and held his hand up, palm out. “Sorry! You had a huge horsefly on your back! You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “With that reaction next time I might just let you get bit,” Rick joked.

Daryl shook his head. “Sorry. Ya just startled me is all.”

“It’s alright,” Rick replied. “I’ll go take care of those bodies.” He gestured with the gas can.

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Be careful out there. Fire will probably bring more of ‘em in.”

“I’ll take Glenn out with me,” Rick said, and then he was off.

A moment later you were back with a bowl of food for him. It was some kind of noodles with some venison and a few fresh tomatoes from the garden. “Alright. Break time, Daryl,” you demanded. “I need to make sure you actually eat, since apparently you won’t.”

Daryl tugged his bandana from his back pocket and mopped at the oil on his skin the best he could.

You set the bowl in his hands and your fingertips brushed his skin. You didn’t seem to notice. For Daryl it was impossible not to. “Thanks,” he murmured, grabbing a seat on a nearby concrete block.

“No problem.” You came and sat down next to him, sighing good-naturedly and looking out over the green grass of the yard. Rick was just lighting up the pile of walkers outside the fence. A breeze was blowing the tops of the trees around, sending the leaves fluttering and changing their hues. Fluffy clouds drifted by lazily.

Daryl dragged a hand across his mouth. “Mmm. S’good. Thanks,” he murmured, hurriedly taking another bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d started eating.

You smiled at his voracious eating habits and leaned your chin on your hand, your elbow propped on your knee. You reached over again with your free hand and attempted to smooth that same stubborn strand of his hair that had been sticking up all day. Goosebumps rose up Daryl’s back.

“Thought ya gave that up as a lost cause,” Daryl said through a mouthful, holding absolutely still while your fingers were in his hair.

“I did. Was just… I don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling. “I kind of like it.”

He shot you a look like you were crazy.

“What?” you laughed. “It’s endearing!”

“Yer nuts,” he joked, ducking his head again and turning back to his food. He didn’t see you biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, a fond and soft light in your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That evening, most of the group was gathered around a bonfire out in the yard. You’d all roasted scraps of venison from a deer Daryl had shot the day before, supplemented with vegetables from the garden and everyone was full and happy. Carol was rocking Judith and cooing over her. Maggie, Glenn, and Beth were playing a rowdy game of cards. Rick and Carl seemed content to watch the people they loved enjoying themselves and you and Hershel were off to one side talking about plans for fall crops when cool season time rolled around again.

Daryl was the only one who had wandered away by himself and seemed to be standing watch on one of the guard platforms. You noticed his broad-shouldered silhouette against the sky and excused yourself.

He turned at the sound of steps on the rattling metal stairs and straightened up when he saw you come around the corner.

You looked up and smiled at him and his heart jumped. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. Everythin’ alrigh’?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. You came to stand beside him at the railing and leaned forward on your forearms. “You okay? Were we all too rowdy down there?” you asked.

“‘M good. Just thought somebody should be on watch, ya know?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding.

“It doesn’t always have to be you though,” you said. “You take on a lot. You’re allowed to relax too. Your worth as a person isn’t tied to what you can do for the group.”

He looked at you with a semi-startled expression on his handsome face.

“And I see now that you needed to hear that,” you said your eyebrows lifting. “It’s true.”

You turned and looked back out over the shadows settling into the yard and the warm orange glow illuminating your found family.

Daryl was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He lifted a hand to rub at his right shoulder, wincing a little as he rotated it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nah, s’nothin’. I must’a tweaked it when I was movin’ my bike this afternoon. Tha’s all. S’fine.”

“Hmm. Alright. Turn around,” you said, straightening up.

“What?” Daryl asked, one of his eyebrows quirked up with the question.

“I said turn around,” you said again.

“Why?”

“Just turn around!” you laughed. “What, are you scared of me?”

“Maybe a little,” Daryl replied, a half-smile turning up one corner of your mouth.

Your hands landed on your hips and you cocked your head at him with attitude. He surrendered and turned so his back was to you.

Your hands landed gently on his shoulders and you worked your fingers into his stiff muscles. They seemed to melt beneath your touch. “You are tense,” you said. You moved to massage his sore shoulder and you could feel that one specific spot seemed particularly tight and inflamed. Your touch became gentler and Daryl’s eyes shut. He was almost leaning into the light workings of your hands. “How’s that feel?” you asked him.

All he could get out was a satisfied hum which made you smile.

“You definitely pulled something over here. You’ll have to go easy on it for a bit.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Maybe ya can just keep doin’ that ‘til it’s all better,” he drawled.

You laughed lightly. “I take it this feels okay then,” you said.

“Mhm,” he hummed again.

You smiled to yourself. The man deserved a little TLC. After all, you had scared the shit out of him when that walker grabbed you. You’d never forget the sound of his panicked voice yelling your name.

Just then, there was more clattering on the stairs and your hands left Daryl’s shoulders as you both turned to look. Carol came around the corner and stopped short. “Oh—sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting, um, anything,” she said, smiling.

You felt your cheeks flush and Daryl was feeling the same thing in his chest and face. “No. Not at all,” you said, leaning back against the railing.

“I was just looking for Daryl,” she explained.

“You found him,” you said. “I should head back down and see if Rick needs help getting Judith down for bed anyway.” You glanced back over at Daryl and gave him a small smile. “Night. See you in the morning. Night, Carol.”

Daryl watched you go until you disappeared into the deepening darkness. Then he felt Carol’s eyes on him. He turned at looked at her and her expression and postured, crossed arms and all, could only be described as smug. “What?” he asked, nestling the edge of his thumbnail in between his teeth and biting down.

“I’m really sorry if I did interrupt something,” she said pointedly.

“Interrupt what?” he drawled, a little irritated.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “Let me just ask you something. How come eight out of ten times if I go to ruffle your hair or wipe a smudge of something gross off you, I get my hand smacked away, but Y/N always seems able to make contact, hmm?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. He simply stared back at her. Internally though, his mind and his heart were working in overdrive.

Carol laughed. “You don’t have to answer. I think we both know why,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Daryl sighed and ruffled a hand back through his wavy hair before resuming his position leaning on the railing next to Carol.

“You do like her though, don’t you?” Carol asked.

Daryl only continued to stare out over the dark yard, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way of his. Carol’s smile widened and she nodded.

“I thought so.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, you beat all of us awake again today. I guess everything is back to normal,” Glenn said, kindly reaching out to give Daryl a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed him. The archer flinched and Glenn gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Oh—nah, s’alrigh’,” Daryl drawled. “Just startled me… And yeah. Hope ya slackers had a good snooze. Some of us gotta get shit done around here,” he joked, shouldering his crossbow and heading toward the door to leave.

You happened to be coming back in with Judith in your arms and Daryl nearly ran into you, stopping short to avoid the collision. You laughed and greeted him, one of your hands reflexively landing flush in the center of his chest and staying there until the two of you had side-stepped around each other.

Glenn came to sit beside Maggie again, handing her the cup of tea he’d just gotten for her. “Did you see that? How he flinched?” he asked, a little sadly, his head indicating Daryl before the archer slipped out the door.

“Mhm,” Maggie nodded. “But did ya see that?” she asked, a faint smile tugging on her lips now. She nodded toward you across the room where you were sitting with Judith.

Glenn shook his head. “No. What? I was at the stove.”

Maggie’s smile widened. “Daryl nearly ran into her. She put her hand out and it landed right in the middle of his chest and it stayed there until they made their way around each other. And it almost seemed like Daryl didn’t want to step away from her. He didn’t flinch. He may have even moved in closer. He couldn’t stop lookin’ at her,” Maggie said.

Glenn nodded slowly, his eyebrows lifting as realization dawned on him. “Well, last night… the two of them disappeared from the bonfire... You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie laughed jovially. “But if they aren’t, they should. Daryl needs that. And he’d be good for her too. He’s always been so protective of her and you can just tell there’s somethin’ there.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was late afternoon when you spotted Daryl taking a break out in the yard. He was sitting on the stump used to chop wood, the axe leaning up against the wood pile nearby. Having just finished sorting some of the newly discovered supplies with Carol, you were ready for a break yourself.

“Hey,” you greeted him, tugging another round of wood over next to him.

“Hey,” he returned, watching you take a seat beside him. He found himself wringing his hands a little nervously.

As you settled in next to him, your arm floated behind him for a moment, your palm gently rubbing across his shoulder blades, almost giving his back a gentle scratch, and then tapering off down his spine in an affectionate gesture. Daryl froze, fluttering bursting to life in his chest again. Electric tingles ran up his back. He swallowed hard. “Why d’ya do that?” he asked suddenly.

You turned and gaze him a questioning look, the small smile dying on your lips. “Do what?”

“Ya know, ya rub my back or—or try to smooth down my hair—”

Your eyes went a bit round and then your brow furrowed, casting shadows over the rich color of your irises. “Oh. Does it bother you? I’m—I’m sorry, Daryl. I probably should have asked you if you were okay with me breaking the touch barrier like that with you. I’m really sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I won’t—”

“What? No. No, it doesn’t—I, uhh—I just mean—” Fuck. How could he explain this without having to confess all his deeply held feelings for you on the spot? “It’s—it’s nice… is all,” he finished lamely.

Your expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I just—I ain’t ever really had anybody that—that did that kinda stuff with me, ya know? I mean—” he broke off. He didn’t want to go there. He’d had sex. He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but it had never felt anywhere near as intimate as your fingertips brushing his arm did.

Your lips formed a soft pout and the worry lines in your forehead reappeared. “You mean, touched you… affectionately?”

He nodded a little, keeping his eyes fixed toward the horizon, unable to look at you in that exact moment. “Yeah.”

Your heart ached. You nodded. “I see…” you breathed. You paused thoughtfully for a moment. You thought of all the people in your past who had touched you with love of all kinds—your parents, your best friend, hugs from extended relatives and friends, playfully holding hands as a child, touches with past partners… To think Daryl had never really had any of that broke your heart. You turned toward him and your fingers landed lightly along his jaw, gently turning his face toward you so you could see his bright blue eyes. You clasped his face for a moment and his eyes closed for just a split second. He actually leaned into the touch of your palm and you felt another pang in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, your fingertips trailing off his skin. “You should have had people your whole life touching you with love and friendship and care. And I’m so sorry you didn’t. We all need touch. It’s something fundamental to us as humans.”

You were close together, your knees almost bumping together.

Daryl’s eyes flickered between yours. “Yeah… I dun think I realized that until—pretty recently,” he said. “But ya don’t, uhh—I mean, I’ve noticed ya don’t… do the same thing with ev’rybody. I mean—not—not exactly the same,” he ventured.

“You noticed?” A small smile came back to your face. “No. You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed. You gave him a significant look and his heart began absolutely pounding in his chest, like he was running for his life, hard and fast.

“Oh…” he drawled, his eyes going suddenly unfocused.

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh, your cheeks heating with a blush. “Um, listen—come find me after dinner tonight. I’ve got first watch in the guard tower. Alright?” You stood and Daryl found himself looking up at you, wishing you wouldn’t go.

He could ask you to stay… but he just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Alright. Tonight.”

“Great,” you said, flashing him a smile that made him glad he was sitting down already. You would have nearly knocked his knees out. How was he going to make it through the rest of the day? The waiting would be excruciating…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked up at the guard tower and could see your silhouette out on the platform against the warm splash of color from the setting sun. Inside the tower, a lantern glowed softly, illuminating the windows. He made his way up the winding stairs, trying to swallow his nerves to the best of his ability, but he found it wasn’t much use. He wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly aware that his palms were sweaty.

He pushed into the tower and found the door out onto the platform standing open. You looked over your shoulder at the sound of his boots and smiled at him, before returning to leaning on the railing, staring at the hues of salmon and orange and deep reds blazing across the sky as the sun sunk behind the trees at the horizon.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked, meaning the sunset.

Daryl licked his lips nervously, but he was looking at you. “Yeah,” he drawled.

“I like how the sky is never the exact same. No two skies are alike. Something is always different with the colors or the clouds or the particular shade of blue. It makes me feel like even though the world has gone to complete shit… it hasn’t really. You know?”

Daryl leaned onto the railing beside you on his forearms and drank in the scene, humming his agreement. “Mhm.” He nervously shifted. “Um… why’d—why’d ya ask me up here?” He couldn’t stand the strenuous anticipation and wondering any longer.

You turned giving him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. You’ve probably been wondering all day. Well… I was wondering if I could kiss you and this seemed like a nice place to do it—private, nice view, stars will be out soon, unlikely to be interrupted…”

Daryl thought he must have heard you wrong. “Wait—what?”

You smiled at him, your eyes sparking with light. “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

He stared at you. “Ya wanna kiss me?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Huh… well—what if I wanna kiss you first?”

You gave him an amused look, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Then, I’d say this works out for both of us?” you laughed.

He ducked his head for a moment. “Cuz I’ve wanted to kiss ya for—for a long time now. Prob’ly longer than you’ve wanted to kiss me,” he admitted. He shot a cautious look at your expression but you still just had that serene smile on your face.

“Daryl—” you said, stepping in toward him and gently taking hold of the front of his vest, “I don’t care who initiates it, but I’d like it to happen n—”

You didn’t get the last word out, because Daryl’s lips landed flush on yours and his hand was tangling into your hair, the other landing lightly on your waist. He seemed a little tense at first, nerves maybe, but quickly you melted into each other, your knees weakening, and he tugged you against him as your arms looped around his neck.

Your hearts were racing in time together and you were both breathless when you broke apart, pulling back only enough to breathe. Daryl’s fingers drummed anxiously on your lower back.

“Was… that alrigh’?” he asked.

“Alright?” you repeated. “It was perfect,” you said.

He looked relieved. “Good. ‘Cuz… it was for me too,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do it again, if tha’s alrigh’?”

You grinned and arched into him, crashing your lips against his. This kiss was fiery and hungry and you didn’t break apart for a long time. Daryl held your body firmly against his and the two of you moved without any clumsiness or reticence, reading each other easily and sinking into it.

The sun was now nearly completely gone and the first stars were appearing in the inky sky. The moon was rising. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at Daryl. “I was hoping you’d stay until my shift is over.”

“Mmm,” Daryl nodded, his hands still on your waist. “Alrigh’. But s’gonna be hard to keep watch with ya distractin’ me.”

“Well, there are two of us… only one of us really needs to be watching at a time,” you joked, laughing lightly. You stroked your fingers through his wavy hair, brushing it away from his face, and his eyes closed at your touch. “I brought a blanket up to sit on. Come on.”

Daryl settled down on it first and then nudged his head in a way as to request that you sink down against him. His arm draped behind you and landed on your hip. His fingers moved a little absently, feeling your softness and angles. “Thanks,” he said suddenly.

“Hmm? For what?” you asked, looking over at him and catching his eyes for a moment before he ducked his head and shrugged.

“For bein’ you and… bein’ the way ya are with me,” he drawled. He didn’t know how to voice that as long as he’d known you, every little touch you gave him, innocent or maybe more, felt like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he found himself craving it, craving you. But he’d never known for sure, beyond the doubt instilled in him, if it was one-sided or not. Now, he knew.

"You don't have to thank me. You deserve to feel wanted, Daryl. You are." You smiled at him and then tucked yourself against him, your head resting under his chin, your hand moving softly on his bare arm, leaving tingles in its wake. The last light of the sun disappeared and was replaced with the cool glow of the moon and endless stars, and the two of you soaked in each other. Daryl seemed more confident as the minutes passed and drank you in, slowly touch-starved no longer and hoping he would never be again.

#daryl fluff #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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frost-queen · 5 months

Text

Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [ read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.

Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.

“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”

Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.

Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.

“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.

Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.

You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.

“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.

You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.

“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.

Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.

“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.

Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.

Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.

Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.

At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.

Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.

Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.

After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.

Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.

He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.

You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.

Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.

--------------------------------

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

Text

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole.

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.”

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt.

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker.

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway.

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?”

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run.

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!”

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him.

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk.

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!”

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him.

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.”

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely.

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather.

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface.

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts.

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage.

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought.

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.”

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged.

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking.

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit.

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn.

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that.

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there.

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place.

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt.

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable.

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him.

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout.

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin.

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course.

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action.

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand.

“What the fu—heck’s that?”

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled.

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger.

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a Eskimo kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Eskimo kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any.

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world.

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron.

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin.

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner.

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well.

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately.

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly.

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave.

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him.

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail.

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused.

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you.

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow.

And babysitting.

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself.

“Babysitting, again, hmm?”

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot.

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.”

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.”

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid.

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was.

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride.

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!”

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway.

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better.

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had.

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag.

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie.

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance.

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.”

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head.

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.”

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door.

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree.

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading.

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets.

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!”

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply.

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.”

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout.

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days.

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him.

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that.

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles.

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.”

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you.

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this.

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened.

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit.

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling.

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse.

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently.

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever.

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole.

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense.

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!”

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him.

“You’re delusional!”

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason.

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated.

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin.

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable.

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again.

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.”

One Year Later

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle.

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair.

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #step dad!daryl #dad!daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 3 months

Text

do you want to be my valentine?

steve harrington x gn!reader

“do you want to be my valentine?”

six years old. with chubby knees and chubby cherub cheeks to match. dressed by your mother in shades of pink and red, holding out a handmade pink paper card. splattered in too much glitter and messily cut hearts sloppily glued down.

your valentine, a boy who turns seven in two months, stares at you with wide brown eyes. he also has light freckles scattered over his face, your mom said beauty marks were from past lives.

“yeah, sure!” steve smiles with delight. your heart beat quickens it’s pulse at the high pitched reply.

do you want to be my valentine?

few years later turning you from six to thirteen.

steve didn’t show up to school today, so you biked to his home once the bell rang loudly. sure the idea of handing out cards was childish now in your pre-teen years, but you always give one to steve and he always excepts with delight.

do you want to be my valentine?

hawkins middle changes into hawkins high school. now at the age of seventeen boy were dumb, like always, but now horny was attached. steve surrounded himself with jackass friends and girls that happily flung themselves at him.

you weren’t even a thought once he became ‘the king’. you gifted him a valentine in sophomore year, sliding the envelope into his locker. you watched as he walked with his friends durning passing period and stopped at his last. carol and tommy started making fun of him when the red paper fell to the floor.

so for the first time, you didn’t ask steve to be your valentine. and don’t plan to in the coming years.

do you want to be my valentine?

scoops was having a week long sale for a valentine’s themed desert. the s s cupid. strawberry ice cream topped with chocolate syrup, pink and white sprinkles and a dollop of whipped cream.

you’ve had to stand and watch as couples feed each other. you wanted to smash their faces into the sugary delights.

your just jealous. jealous they have someone while you daydream about harrington. who you work with while slowly rekindling your friendship.

robin, your new friend, says steve’s ‘got it bad for you’ her words. you just brush her off and ignore the warmth covering your ears.

during your lunch, steve sets a s s cupid in front of you and your homemade sandwich.

“what’s this?” raising a brow at the tooth ache treat.

steve sat in the chair across from you, a pink tint on his apples. “special treat for a special someone.” his fingers curled around the table edge.

now both brows raised, “oh? so i’m a special someone to you, harrington?” trying to tease steve while digging your spoon into the softening ice cream.

“well yeah.” he shrugged, “you’re my first valentine and haven’t done… that, in a few years. so, i have a question.” you could see the edge leaving steve each second.

“what’s the question?” scooping ice cream into your mouth, watching steve who watches you.

he took a deep swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing, “i was wondering, and hoping, if you’d like to be my valentine this year? and hopefully many more in the future?”

you couldn’t help your smile, “got tired of being asked?”

now steve smiled, “no, i liked being asked. by you and only you and then you stopped and- and it sucked. and it made me realize how much i like having those two things in my life.” he reached his arm across the table, fingers seeking out your own.

you hesitated before grazing your fingertips over his then linking hands together. “i missed asking you every year.”

steve grinned brightly, “you can ask every year. when ever you want.”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x gn!reader

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caroloftheshells · 5 months

Note

19 (for the Spotify Wrapped thing)

youtube

(send me a number 1-100 and i will post my nth most streamed song from this year)

#carol replies to things #mrmr1019 #thanks!#likely the third or fourth time i have posted this song on my blog but it is one of my favorites of theirs #punchy vivid lyrics; booming & sparkly timbres; also another great ostinato fest

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miraculousmultifan · 8 months

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The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.

So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.

It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.

Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.

Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?

Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”

Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.

Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.

Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”

“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”

Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.

“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”

Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”

Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”

Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”

That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”

And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.

“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”

Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”

Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”

“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”

Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”

Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”

Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.

#mira writes #post-season 2 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #st

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access-point · 2 years

Text

i guess if i want more fics where carol and/or tommy are in the know then im damn well gonna have to write them myself arent i

#dont tell anyone but i have a document somewhere that has endgame nancy/carol #you heard me. nancy wheeler and carol perkins.#ive also been dabbling with carol and robin but i have much more planned for nancy and carol #anyways i think i think about those two way too much actually #stranger things #tommy hagan #carol perkins #ok to like and reply but dont rb :-)

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stevieschrodinger · 1 month

Text

TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.

Link to part Two

Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.

There's a man in his office.

"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."

"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.

"And my nine thirty?"

"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."

"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."

"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.

"You're going to make me ask aren't you??

Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"

"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."

"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."

And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.

Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.

Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.

Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.

"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."

"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.

The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."

Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.

"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."

Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.

"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."

Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.

Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"

And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."

"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."

"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."

Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.

"That's all you need?"

Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."

It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.

"How do you know I'm not already involved?"

Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."

Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"

"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."

Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.

That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.

Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.

Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.

But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.

Because that's not creepy.

Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.

Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.

They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.

Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.

They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.

He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.

Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."

Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.

Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.

"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."

The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.

At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.

Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."

Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."

"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.

It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.

Nothing.

And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.

"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"

"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.

"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"

Eddie's just blinking at him.

"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."

"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."

"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"

Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."

That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.

Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."

"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.

Hopper waves him off, "you did good."

Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"

"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."

Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."

"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.

Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."

Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."

And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.

"So is there anything you...want? Need?"

Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."

Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.

At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ao3 writer #ficlet #ao3 author #pre getting together #pre steddie #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #omega eddie munson because he's so pretty #long suffering hopper #jim hopper #fbi agent jim hopper

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