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#daryl dixon fanfiction
celtic-crossbow · 3 days
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Y/N, accidentally hitting Daryl in the face: …
Y/N, torn between saying I’m so fucking sorry or are you okay: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!
Daryl, still holding his cheek: The hell’s wrong with you?
Y/N: How much time do you have?
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You recognized his knock. He always knocked the same rhythm. Soon you were pulling open the door of your shitty little apartment to the sight of his broad shoulders and wavy hair.
"Hi," you greeted him.
"Hey," he said, wringing his hands a little nervously. "I noticed ya weren't out at the Halloween stuff. I left the kids with Carol. They're havin' a hell of a time. Ya should come," he suggested, shifting his weight and hoping he sounded casual.
"Oh, I—I'm not really one for crowds," you explained, brushing your fingers back through your hair.
"Well, I ain't either, but if we go together and hang back it ain't so bad," he said.
You gave him an abashed smile. "No, Daryl, I—I get—panic attacks. It feels like I'm having a heart attack and my vision goes all blurry and closes in and—I mean, I can't do crowds. Not since the outbreak..." you explained.
"Oh. Oh..." he said, nodding, your words sinking in. "Shit, 'm sorry... I didn't know."
You shrugged. "It's okay. It's not usually a problem to be honest," you laughed wryly. "What, with half the world's population being dead and gone and all that... But being here in The Commonwealth has been a little more challenging," you admitted.
Daryl's brow was furrowed over his bright blue eyes. "Well, what are ya up to then? Would ya—I dunno, want some company maybe?"
You gave him a surprised look, your mouth dropping slightly open. "Oh, you don't have to do that," you said. "Really, you should go back and enjoy the festivities with the kids. I mean how often is it their first Halloween?"
Daryl shrugged. "We've already been down there most of the day... and they've got Carol and The King and Jerry and ev'rybody. If ya want to be alone, I get it but if not then—"
You stepped back and gestured for him to come in. "I want to be alone unless it's you," you said with a smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. Him showing up unannounced on your doorstep seemed to make you brave.
Daryl gave you that charming half-smile of his and stepped in, a definite treat for Halloween.
Prompt: "I'm not really one for crowds."
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daryldixonsboy · 3 days
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It was late at night.
Alexandria was practically silent outside, the only noises being the cicadas chirping in the distance. You were listening to the familiar rhythm of the noise tossing and turning in bed while waiting for Daryl to get home.
He'd been out all day, and you weren't sure why. Most mornings, you'd either wake up with him next to you, peacefully asleep, or you'd wake up to him kissing your forehead before heading out, wheather to was to hunt, or work on his bike.
But today, you woke up with an empty bed and an even emptier house. He was nowhere to be found. You'd been worried something had happened, maybe you'd upset him doing something the day before. Daryl always seemed to close himself off when he was upset. Everything seemed to be okay between the two of you, though. You'd fallen asleep the night before, him holding his arms around your waist with his face nuzzled into the nape of your neck.
Where could he be?
Suddenly, you flipped around at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Slipping on one of Daryl's shirts, you tumbled out of bed and down the stairs, and there he was.
Daryl was kicking off his boots at the front door with his crossbow slung over his shoulders. He looked stressed, setting his crossbow down by the door and scrubbing his hands over his face, sighing.
You stepped forward quietly, until you were stood right in front of him, grabbing his hand and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
"What's wrong, Daryl? You okay?" You ask, keeping your tone soft, like he could break at any firmer of a tone.
"'S nothin'. I'm fine." He muttered, his gaze dropping down to his shoes, hair falling in front of his face.
You wordlessly guided him upstairs to the bed, sitting him down on the edge with his feet planted on the floor in front of him. He looked on the brink of tears, almost, his breathing shallow. His lips were set in a firm line, and he kept his eyes on the floor.
You started pulling off his vest and shirt, getting him ready to relax and lay down. You'd known him long enough that he felt comfortable showing the scars on his back to you. Usually, you found yourself tracing them with the tip of your fingers, gently pressing kisses onto them when he was asleep next to you. (Or so you thought. He could always feel when you did it.)
"I didn't see you today," You whispered to him, sitting down by him and leaning your head against his shoulder. Daryl wasn't an overly affectionate person most days, especially when he was upset. You knew he still loved it when you held him, but sometimes he couldn't handle it. "Wanna tell me what's wrong? I won't push, if you don't wanna tell me," You assured him.
Daryl was dead silent for a moment, still staring down at the ground in front of him. It wasn't that he didn't feel safe enough to tell you, it was more that he wasn't sure how to vocalize his feelings. His whole life, he'd been told by his father and his brother that he couldn't feel as deeply as he did.
"My momma died, 'round this time 'a year when I was a lil' kid." He started, taking another breath and scrubbing his hands over his face. "I don't like thinkin' 'bout it, but I still wanna honor 'er." His voice was so quiet, words breaking up. He didn't dare make eye contact with you.
You thought about your words before speaking. "Was she good to you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, she was good." Daryl replied, fidgeting with his hands. "She'd... uh, she'd always make sure I was happy. Never remember her yellin' at me or Merle. Stood up fer me when my dad was bein' a dick. I was a pussy as a kid, though, always cryin' when I had ta' be 'round a lotta people. She'd take care 'a me when I panicked."
Daryl had a very fond memory of his mother. The woman always managed to keep a gentle hand with him. When he was young, he'd never stray from her shadow. He remembered the way she'd carefully trim his hair for him when it got too long. She'd patch up his wounds, no matter where they came from, whether it was his father, Merle, kids in the neighborhood, or just a small mistake. She'd hold his hand when they walked through crowds, days that he'd be so nervous he'd break down. She always managed to calm him down.
He was heartbroken after she died. She was his source of comfort; she was his home. He no longer had that sense of security and love, only his aggressive brother and abusive dad. He was forced by the remaining people around him to suppress his emotions, his grief and pain. When it all became too much, he'd run out to the woods and hide somewhere he was sure he couldn't be found and cry all his emotions out.
"You weren't a pussy, Daryl, you just needed some help. It's okay to feel the way you did," You replied to him carefully. You weren't going to push him to tell you more, even though you wanted to know details of his childhood so bad. You wanted to soothe his scars, his hurt.
"She died smokin' cigarettes in bed. I watched my house go up. Kids in my neighborhood, police- hell, everyone was lookin' at me, like I knew what happened." He whispered, his voice getting softer. You soon realized that he was sniffling, physically holding back tears. "I jus' ran- I ran out to the woods. Wasn't nothin' else to do. Couldn't go home," and just like that, the lump in his throat dissolved into nothing, his vision blurring.
"Sweetheart..." You trailed off, taking his beautiful face in your hands. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks softly, watching his expression as he sniffled out uneven breaths.
"'M sorry... 'm not tryin' 'ta--" He mumbled through tears, his voice breaking.
You couldn't help but embrace him, holding him in your arms with his face pressed against your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, pressing kisses into the top of his head every few minutes. He had his arms wrapped around you, hands gripping the fabric of your (his) shirt. You just sat there holding him, giving him the comfort he deserved, the comfort he'd never gotten as a child.
It appalled you that anyone could hurt the beautiful man in front of you. He deserved so much love, so much care. Daryl was so used to taking care of everyone else, that he'd never gotten the opportunity to take care of himself.
"You don't ever have to apologize for feeling. Not to me, not to anyone, Daryl," You murmured into his hair, listening as his breaths slowly evened out as he calmed down. "I promise, you can come to me when you need to. I'll never make you feel bad for crying- for hurting, either- 'cause I love you."
Daryl picked his head up from your shoulder to properly look you in the eyes, bringing one of his hands up to push some of your hair behind your ear. "What would I do without ya?" He asked, sniffling, not waiting for a response.
You gave him a gentle smile, tugging him back on the bed as you moved to lay down. "C'mere, pretty boy. Let's lay down, yeah?"
Daryl scooted back with you, not arguing. You pulled him so that he was laying his head on your chest, his body weight on top of you. The pressure felt comforting for the both of you, reassuring. You continued swiping your fingers through his hair as he began drifting off.
Right before the two of you could fall asleep, you heard him whisper something to you, just loud enough for you to hear. "I love you, too."
You'd always be there for him; his anchor, his home.
I hope this wasn't too horrible lmaooo it's kinda rushed😭 Lmk if yall want any more concepts like this‼️
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summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet
warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying
MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻
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divider credits. @cafekitsune
The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.
Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.
You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.
How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.
His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.
These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.
“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.
It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.
You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.
Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.
“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.
He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.
Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.
“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.
It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.
He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.
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dixons-sunshine · 2 days
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hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.
so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)
anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense
anyways have a good day/night much love <3
Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader
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Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.
Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.
Word count: 1.3k
A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)
“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.
You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”
“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”
“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”
Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.
“Mama?”
At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.
Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.
“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”
Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”
Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.
“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.
“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”
Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.
The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”
Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.
Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.
“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.
You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”
Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.
“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”
You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.
“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”
Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”
You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”
Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!
Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):
maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!
amores: loves.
dormilones: sleepyheads.
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darylmydix · 1 day
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730 DAYS | daryl dixon [coming soon]
“we protect our people. we’ll protect you–i’ll protect you.”
“don’t make promises you can’t keep, daryl dixon.”
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summary: 2 years since you’ve been trapped with the saviors as one of negan’s many wives, and 2 weeks since you’ve made your escape into the world of the living dead, anticipating whatever fate awaits you; but when you meet unlikely hero, daryl dixon, he saves you and brings you to alexandria. it’s a paradise you’ve longed for, but how long will this freedom last until negan finds you?
pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader
warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, sexual assault, mentions of noncon, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, murder, slow burn-ish, strong language, torture, decapitation, s6-11, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: so i started watching twd again, which i haven’t watched in years but now that i’m a grown woman i’ve been feigning for daryl lmao, he’s so fine idcidcidc.
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louifaith · 3 days
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I just want to give Daryl a bath, devoid of any sexual connotations, share a moment of intimacy and vulnerability, taking care of him. I washing his body in a serene silence that only happen when two people are deeply comfortable with each other. As I run my hand over his scars, I'll tell him how strong and loved he is. Washing his hair, gently massaging his scalp, I'd tell him how long his hair has gotten since we met and how much I like it
I NEED HIM RIGHT NOW
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xoxo-sarah · 1 day
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Ms. Perfect
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↝a/n: this is an old idea that I had in the back of my notes app. Oops.
↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader
↝warning: death, widow!Reader, apocalypse, mean! Daryl, swearing, not proofread
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 4.23.24
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Daryl wasn't sure why he hated you so much. You were nice to everyone around you, even understanding. But the sight of you makes the blood in his veins boil.
It became a routine; you and him sniping at each other, digging up trauma neither of you really wanted to. He just got under your skin. Like now.
“Sorry, in case you haven' noticed, the world ain't all rainbows and sunshine anymore. We don't shit money to buy the newest thing. Life is different, Doll. Get used to it.” He drawled, his eyebrows scrunched together.
There he goes again.
You weren't even talking to or about him, but he had heard you. That had been enough for him to butt in, apparently.
Ever since you had stumbled your way into Daryl's group early on, Daryl had had it out for you. At the creek, he would be pointing out how your hair had to have been done recently. Your jewelry, clothes, how smooth your skin looked from the expensive moisturizers and night creams you had to use, your newly manicured nails- ignoring the dirt and blood underneath-, and the shine in your eyes. You didn't have the shine at first, but when you would hang out with Carol, you would smile, and the recent glazed look was gone.
Your eyes shone brightly like the stars in the countryside. Not that you would know. You probably never had the chance to see how bright the stars shone in the city.
You were unbothered by the people at the campsite, keeping to yourself. You didn't have to worry about anything when the world was built for your liking and convenience.
Daryl despised you and that god-awful rock on your finger that could feed him for probably 6 months to a year. He glared at the ring every chance he got—so much so that you eventually yanked it off, throwing it in the murky pond.
Even after leaving the campsite, you stayed with the group, arguing with Daryl along the way.
“I get it, you're used to having people do everything for you, but we're not always going to be with you, Princess. Sorry life now is so much different from your perfect life before.” For a quiet guy, he always had so much to say to you. All negative.
You bit your cheek, glancing from Maggie—who you were originally talking to—to the dirty man in front of you. "Yeah-I had the perfect life. I had the fiancé that I couldn't wait to marry. I had the apartment that I had the luxury to design with my mother, gushing about the difference wallpapers." You smiled at the memory. Your mother had been so happy for you. "I had the fluffy dog that had its own room. I had the dad who would always talk about playing catch with his future grandchild. I had the money where I didn't have to worry about anything in life." You didn't falter as you felt behind your eyes begin to burn. " I did, alright? I had the life that almost every little girl dreams about. But it was yanked out of my hands, like everyone else's. One day, I didn't wake up to my fiancé kissing me, or the smell of burnt toast-- cause he didn't know how to cook. I woke up to him nowhere in sight. Instead, I heard yelling outside the door, car horns honking outside of the windows. When I opened the door, I saw my neighbors with white eyes, growling and clawing at the skin of the man I was going to marry and grow old with. His screams will haunt me 'til the day I die. But you will not ever hear me feeling bad for myself. I did have the perfect life, but that doesn't matter now. So, get over -yourself-, cause I am just trying to survive just like you."
Daryl watched your eyes gloss over, your nostrils flare. You were rightfully pissed. And right. He hadn't heard you weep for your past-- ever. You had jumped right into survival mode as soon as he laid eyes on you. You had held your own too- most people called you a badass, Daryl wouldn't let himself verbally agree. With that, you turned and walked away. Maggie shuffled awkwardly, glancing from you to Daryl. She wore a disappointed frown.
Weeks. You ignored his existence for weeks, 2 weeks to be exact. Everytime he would go up to you, you would walk away. Even if you were in the middle to a conversation. The person you were talking to wouldn't mind, really. They would've known about your bitter back-and-forth. They wouldn't think anything of it.
Daryl just wishes you would give him a chance to at least try to apologize. After you had let your walls down and told him about what the end of the world was like for you, he felt bad - pathetic, even. He was so jealous about how you lived before the outbreak, he didn't care about how it had affected you. He should've.
The moonlight led him towards your house, his hands fidgeting. The streets were silent, everyone already in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep. The thought of you kept him up in a different way than before.
His knuckles hovered over your door. You had to be in bed. Was it worth it? You would probably be too tired to yell at him. He knocked.
It took a minute for the door to open. You stood, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a sleep frown on your face. At the sight in front of you, your hand dropped, your sleepy eyes immediately rolling in annoyance. "Oh my god-" You tried to close the door, but his boot caught it before it could close all the way. "Move your foot, Dixon."
"Listen." His eyes were pleading, something you weren't used to. You kept the door open when he reluctantly moved his boot. " 'm sorry."
You scoffed, Sure, you are."
" 'm serious. " He looked at the floor as he brought his hand up, turning it and showing his hand. "Not sure why I kept it." At the sight of your ring, tears bordered your eyes. Your head pressed against the side of the door as your body shook with a silent sob. Daryl didn't look at you. He let you grieve for whatever you wanted to in that moment. He let you have that moment. After your sobs died down, his calloused hand took yours, opening your hand and dropping the ring into your palm.
"You're a dick." You hiccupped.
"I know." 
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•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
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dixonzzgirl · 17 hours
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ok sorry but i can see daryl pissing you off for the first time and just not having a clue what to do so he RELUCTANTLY goes to carol for advice
but she wouldn't give him any and would assure him that he knows you better than he thinks and that he can resolve it on his own
i can just see the poor man being so shy and worried about doing or saying the wrong thing and making you MORE upset 😭 i think conflicts would be a hard thing for him to approach with a partner at first
ugh this is actually so sad because his anxiety would stem from him never getting an apology from anyone in his life. y'all think his deadbeat ass father ever apologized for the things he put daryl, merle or his wife through? i don't. do you think merle ever apologized for all of the times he'd torment daryl to make him more 'manly'? not a chance. he's never received an apology, so he wouldn't even know where to start when it came to giving one. he'd get sick over it because he wants you to know how sorry he feels for upsetting you. every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is the way your expression fell when he spoke those harsh words, the hurt on your face.
eventually he'd gather up the courage to find you and make things right. he'd fidget with his hands, shift his weight from one foot to the other, and feel like he's gonna throw all at once. his bottom lip would curve downwards in a frown as he spoke. " 'm sorry.. 'bout what i said earlier. i didn't mean it." it wouldn't be extravagant, but it was enough. the moment you forgive him, he'd feel the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders. suddenly he didn't feel so sick anymore, but he was slightly confused. he was preparing for the worst, preparing for you to end things. why would you stay with someone who says such mean things like that? why would you stay with someone like him? because you knew who he was, not who he pretended to be, but who he truly was. you knew that his hard exterior was a deception. you knew daryl cared. you knew how deeply he felt things.
taglist: @yarrystyleeza @malg333 @Bigbaldheadname @projectaurus @lilgoblinbitch @Daryldixonlover @vana @musically--declined @ufo-believer
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oneeyedgrimes · 11 hours
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Carol : “ hey y/n what do you do when you’re bored”
Y/n: “ Daryl..”
Daryl: “ y/n..”
Y/n: “ OH, uh not Daryl..?”
Rick, walking past : “ oh yeah she definitely does Daryl”
Daryl, dumbfounded:“ y/n let’s go”
Y/n: “finally I was getting bored”
Everyone: “…”
(GIF not mines!)
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dixonsemoboy · 2 days
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i genuinely think me and daryl would be the perfect couple. we are the exact same person. he's a quiet, small town boy, exactly like me. he didn't have the greatest childhood, nor did i. we've both always been loners. i just know we would understand eachother. we'd get along so well, even without conversating. we wouldn't speak, just enjoy being in eachother's presence. we'd hold hands as we take nightly walks in the woods (of my request) we'd cuddle up by the fire, my head to his chest and his arms around me. i can hear his soft grunting as he nuzzles his face against my hair. we'd cook together, listen to our favorite music together, hunt together, ride on his motorcycle together (which took a lot of convincing from me)
we'd shower rogether, too. both of us bare for each other to see. he's glad that i trust him enough to see my body. he'd be insecure of himself, the scars on his back, his slowly graying hair, his stomach becoming slightly pudgy due to age. he'd talk down on himself, saying he's "gettin' old 'n' fat", but i'd reassure him everytime, tell him how perfect he is, every inch of him, how nobody else could ever compare to him as i rub a soapy rag over his body, cleaning the grime from it.
he'd put me into his lap and brush my hair every morning, making sure to mess it up a bit after because he knows i like it like that. he'd tell me how handsome i look in that gruff voice of his that i adore, and i would do just the same to him.
i'd wake him up every morning with kisses, worshipping every inch of his beautiful body, and of course breakfast in bed. only my man deserves the best.
i'd make both of us matching bracelets, so he always has something to remember me by. he'd smile to himself everytime he looked down at his wrist.
we'd take care of eachother, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.
i'll forever be his boy.
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celtic-crossbow · 2 days
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Blood Ties Chapter 28
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.
A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.
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Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.
“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.
“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair. 
“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”
You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”
Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting. 
“Daryl?”
He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”
You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain. 
Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip. 
Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas. 
“Y’okay?” 
Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started. 
“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”
“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again. 
Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”
“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”
You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone. 
“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.
“M’right here. Y’okay?”
You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?” 
Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture. 
“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything? 
“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened.  “Y’alright?”
“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.
“Get some sleep.”
With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs. 
“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.
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It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.
“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"
“She’s sleepin’.”
You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”
“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.” 
She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.
You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”
“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!” 
You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed. 
Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.
Oh shit.
“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him. 
Yet.
“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”
“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.
“S’wrong?” 
You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”
“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”
“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology. 
“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”
“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.
Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”
“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees. 
“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”
“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants. 
“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”
“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”
Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”
Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget. 
“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around. 
“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that. 
Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief. 
“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”
“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.
“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”
“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?
Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.
“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 
You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”
You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”
“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away. 
You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.
“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?” 
“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.
“Daryl?”
“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit. 
“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.
“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”
“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours. 
The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.
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“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.
“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.
“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?
“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.
Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”
“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.
“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”
He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”
“Babies cry. How—what—”
“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.
“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”
“You’re not—”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.
“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out. 
Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.
“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.
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dlysthings · 12 hours
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Little crush pt.6
-> Previous part <-
A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.
At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.
But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.
Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.
Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.
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The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.
On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.
What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again. 
You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.
“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.
“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.
Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.
“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.
After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.
Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.
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The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.
Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.
A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.
He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.
Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.
Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.
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Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.
From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?
Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.
In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.
“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.
After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.
The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.
Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.
Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.
“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.
“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.
Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.
By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.
“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.
“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.
Masterlist: @marvelcasey05 @zomb133g1rl @ryoujoking @starkeysslvt @appearancesaredeceiving4lice @that-german-girrl @tobemylover-x
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lap girl (4)
summary. daryl is in mourning for his brother merle, overcome with grief and guilt. all he needs is to lay on his girls lap and receive her affection
warnings. extreme angst, graphic mentions of character death, crying, some fluff, blood
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divider credits. @cafekitsune
All he needed was his home, the comfort of y/n’s lap. He stalked through the empty courtyard in the dead of sunset, tired and bearing an ache that was embedded across the side of his torso towards the safety of his home. Merle was dead, and he couldn’t save him.
The image of his brother’s blood resonated in a repeated flash behind his eyes, as well as the flesh that had tangled itself in his tough and walker teeth. He had turned into a flesh eating parasite, devouring any bodies that were remaining in the war zone that now represented a graveyard of sorts alongside the other mobile corpses.
Daryl’s face remained tight from the tears that had continuously dripped from the faucet of his eyes, his agony from the entire experience still mutilating his mind. His hands were stained red, so utterly crimson that he felt sick, nauseated from the act that he had to commit in order to survive. He had killed him, not only for his own life, but to prevent his memory of his elder brother from being tainted with the poison of death that seeped agonisingly through his corpse.
It was an ending that he had never wished for anybody that he cared for, and Merle had the likeliness to be an ass most days, but that hadn’t stopped Daryl from seeing him as the only one in his bloodline that he gave a shit about. To his pitiful luck, the entrance of the cell block was hauntingly empty, aside from the sleep filled breaths that echoed through the large space, and he felt guilty enough already, more so considering that he could awaken his girl from her state of rest.
The mattress wasn’t the comfiest, it was to be expected since it was setup to be the bed for a felon, but he slipped through the walkway after the stairs, tousling his growing locks in critical agitation, as he was pierced metaphorically over and over again with the same blade that had erased any trace of his brother from existence.
“Daryl..?” Her voice was soft and as smooth as the finest silk, causing a lulling of tenseness to roll off his shoulders; his walls were crumbling, and he didn’t mind as he felt he needed to extinguish his emotions in the ritual that his father forbade. His tears had only made his father hit him more, until he was a breathing carcass of numbness. But with her, his girl, she would never bring judgement upon him for being berated with human emotion.
“I’m back.” Daryl responded indifferently, struck blankly with the fact that he would never see his brother again. He’d attempted to scrub his hands clean with the water bottle y/n kept by the hovering silver sink, but it didn’t wash away the shocking brutality that had succumbed him. Merle could never return from becoming a walker and having multiple stab wounds in his brain, and Daryl wouldn’t return from the terror either. It would remain with him for the rest of his lifespan, however long that would be.
“Dar…” She called to him once again, afraid of what he may reveal, as he shook his hands dry. As he turned, she could see the digressed state of his bloodshot eyes, and he was withered with the haunting memory that was looping visually in his brain. “Come here baby, I’m here.” He couldn’t help but resist, staggering towards her as he crumbled, splaying his body across her lap as he allowed wrecked sobs to escape him. Her hands combed through his hair, as she too felt the necessity to cry. He returned, with no Merle, it could only mean one thing…
A tear, lonely and unforced rolled down y/n’s cheek, as she realised that their mismatched family had gotten smaller. “He-he’s dead.” Daryl gasped out with heavy breaths, feeling his chest tightening from the situation that had made fate its own property. “Merle-”, she shushed him gently; he needn’t vocalise the looming death that embraced the world when he was struggling with getting a single word out. He’d settle a little, if she allowed him to continue laying across her lap, and she had no qualms against it.
“I know honey.” She whispered with an underlying of grief, caressing his scalp a little more to soothe him. “It wasn’t your fault. You did all he could.” The what if’s eventually faded from Daryl’s mind, as his eyes shut and he felt peace from feeling his girl’s fingers raking sensitively through his hair, seeing nothing but a pitch black nothingness.
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dixons-sunshine · 19 hours
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I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader
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Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.
Genre: Angst, fluff.
Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.
Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.
Word count: 3.9k.
A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.
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Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.
Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.
“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”
Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”
You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”
“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”
Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.
She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”
Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”
You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.
“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”
Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.
“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”
You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”
Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”
You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.
“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”
“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”
“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”
“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”
“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”
The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.
Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.
“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”
Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.
“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.
However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.
“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”
“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.
“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”
Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.
You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”
Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”
“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”
Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.
And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.
“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”
“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”
At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.
“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.
Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”
Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.
You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”
“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.
“Night,” he whispered.
“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”
Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.
You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.
Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.
“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.
“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.
“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”
Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Daryl, oh my god.”
At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.
“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.
You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.
Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.
Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.
“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.
You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.
Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”
You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”
Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”
You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.
“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.
You nodded at him. “Sure.”
“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”
You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.
“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”
“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.
“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”
“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”
“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”
As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.
“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.
“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”
Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”
“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”
Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”
You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.
“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”
You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.
“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.
She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.
With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:
You had feelings for him.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”
You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”
Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”
The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.
“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”
Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.
“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”
Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.
“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”
In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.
“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”
Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.
“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”
Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.
Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.
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sundrop-writes · 2 days
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Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate
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Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.
In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.
This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.
Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!
Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.
I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.
Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview
Preview Word Count: 1,800
Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.
...
“Daryl!” 
You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him. 
“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.” 
He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.” 
Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her. 
The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her. 
But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place. 
Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her. 
“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.” 
You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway. 
“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.” 
You smiled at him. And then, you remembered - 
“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans. 
Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers. 
“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.” 
You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of. 
“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly. 
“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark. 
“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn. 
Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it. 
“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.” 
It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless. 
Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again. 
… 
When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth. 
He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done. 
It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’. 
Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt. 
“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning? 
“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently. 
Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism. 
Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you. 
“Here.” He grunted at her. 
Beth smiled at him. 
It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time. 
When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there. 
The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind. 
One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it. 
For good luck. 
He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead. 
He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it. 
“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him. 
Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her. 
“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed. 
He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer. 
He didn’t give her one. 
“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.” 
Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.” 
Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject. 
After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again. 
But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories. 
That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.
… 
“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject. 
Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind. 
“See what?” Daryl replied. 
“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.” 
Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories. 
“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her. 
Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details. 
“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.” 
“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied. 
Beth shrugged. “Same thing.” 
It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided. 
You would make sure that he was lucky. 
That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C. 
It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course. 
Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot. 
It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside. 
Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe. 
When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia. 
Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away. 
Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird. 
But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.
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