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itsgrimeytime · 10 months

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Don't Let Me In (with no intention to keep me) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Based on the song: 'It Will Come Back' by Hozier

Available on AO3

Summary: That day, your camp was raided. Gunfire and hostages, so many of you were lucky to be alive. After Rick and a few others gained control of the situation, you realize you were hurt. It was just a few scratches, there were others with worse. Rick highly disagreed.

TWS: TENSION (both kinds), blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), being held at gunpoint, implied murder, death, revenge, murder jacket!Rick, kind of dark!Rick, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.

[[A/N: KIND OF SPICY, but not really??? It's hard to explain. This is really just the 'who hurt you' trope between you and Rick with nothing left to lose. Needed this kinda vibe after all the fluff recently. For bestie @murder-jacket !!! Enjoy :)) ]]

Your head was spinning, and it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Rick and a few others had gone off on a supply run -resources were whittling down and the group needed more. But of course, the one time most of the weapons are gone is when a group decided to swarm. It wasn't exactly like you were empty-handed, but without some of your best shooters... you were almost desolate.

You held onto Carl like it was the last thing you'd ever do, squeezing his shirt so tight in your fingers the fabric was morphing into a shape. In a distant part of your mind, you knew you were muttering to him -promises that everything would be fine, that they'd be back before he even knew it.

And then, one of the men turned to you.

"So," he spoke, waltzing up a slow pace towards the two of you, "-you're the sweetheart, huh?"

You stiffened, hesitating wrapping your fingers around Carl -you could probably just push him away... keep him safe. At the thought, Carl stood against you tighter -protective even, but you wouldn't let him do anything stupid.

"Quite a beaut," the man spoke, trailing the tip of his gun to under your chin and tilting up your face to match his, "-aren't ya?"

"Look," you spoke, voice steady and calm (you'd been through much much worse), "-just leave him alone and I'll-"

"What?" He pushed, tone drenched in frustration, pushing the tip of the gun into your neck, "Do whatever I say? Surprisingly, I think we've got that covered."

The distant sound of gunshots echoed then, it was far from you -he had singled you two out. (Someone had luckily hidden with Judith, Carol had subtly told you before they separated you.)

You froze, trying to see by some grace if you could hear anything -was it your people? Or was it them? Were they dying? That was until you saw the look on the unnamed man's face.

His face was twisted in confusion, spun to meet the sounds -he was not aware of those shots. You could tell, and a tiny part of you hoped for Rick to have returned early.

He cleared his throat, turning towards the two of you -Carl still attached at your hip, "Leave the kid, you, come with me."

"That's not happening," you gritted through your teeth, hand tightening on Carl.

You couldn't protect him if he wasn't by you, you hadn't known what they wanted to do or why they were even here. Carl was not safe with you, but he was even less safe when he was alone. You wouldn't let him leave your side. You couldn't.

"Heroic, really," he tsked, seeming to regain his confidence -dragging the gun along your jaw to your temple, "-but I don't think I gave you a choice."

And then, there was movement behind him. You couldn't properly see what or who it was, but Carl -who was held tightly by your side, loosened. Relaxed, even.

That was... good. Maybe it was someone you knew.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The low drawl was gravelly, a tone he'd only found in anger -Rick. Even just his voice helped your breaths calm, the cool metal stark against your skin. You still stood as still as a statue, you'd give him no reason to shoot -no sudden movements.

"Well, look here-" the man exhaled, "-if it ain't the man of the hour."

"I don't think you heard me," Rick echoed and you could barely see him, but you saw a shadow of the movement -the click of a gun.

On instinct, your breath hitched -heavy in your chest, you realized then that you hadn't wanted to die. It was a terrifying thought, then, as the metal dipped into your skin; it was surely something to realize then.

"Frankly, I don't think you have the power here, Rick," the man spoke, not moving the gun from your skin and adjusting you to face Rick and Carl now, who had thankfully been ushered to his side.

You were looking at him now, eyes placed so delicately on his form and there was a steely gaze there -matched only by the man who held you in place. His jaw, covered in the beard he'd so recently grown, was set, pinched in the way it always was when he was in a situation he didn't want to be in. His jacket, once pristine, was now stained on the white with an ominous red, and part of you, without thinking, scanned him over at the mere thought that the blood might be his.

Rick's gaze flicked to you, just for a few seconds -looking for injuries, maybe, just like you were. There was a softness as he did so, the blue gaze affectionate and careful -they stuttered at your scraped forearms, jaw clenched and eyes determined. It didn't seem too bad, just stung against the cool breeze of the night -you doubted it was even bleeding.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" he began in response, tone aggressive in a demanding sort of way, "-did you call those gunshots earlier? Was that part of your master plan?"

The man quietened, and you could only imagine his face. Rick was angry, and in some twisted way, you were delighted he was this angry over you.

"Because, if I'm remembering correctly," he was stepping closer now, slow steady steps -his tone light, but there was something heavy there, something furious, "-that was my call."

The man was silent for a second, and you felt the coolness of the metal falter -he readjusted it, pushing farther into your skin. You hissed at the pressure, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rick still at the noise.

His eyes gleamed, flickering over you -trying to convey something to you (a safety) and then straying to your neck.

"You wouldn't," the man finally spoke, but there was no nerve behind it -he was scared. And as your eyes fluttered upon Rick, who looked just a bit like a man with nothing to lose, you wondered if you would be too.

He didn't give him the dignity of a response, trailing on, "I mean, don't you think they woulda come to you by now?"

That was when the man moved, faltering against you -he was shaking, and you could feel it. The cool metal was no longer directly against your skin but distant, the deep breaths now heavy in your ear -he was panicking.

"Look, you-" he straightened, trying to gain some sense of control then and pointedly looking at Rick, "-you let me go. Nothing happens to 'em."

He remained calm, or still, you guessed you should say, there was nothing behind those eyes that was calm. They were a heavy sort of gaze, intense and direct -if looks could kill, this man would be on his knees.

"What did ya say earlier?" he hummed, stepping even closer now, the crunch of the grass under his boots the only noise other than the heave of breaths. Rick was agonizing, steps deliberate, and the tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate you.

And then he was a breath away from the man, pistol up and located square in his forehead, "Frankly, I don't think you have the power here."

Maybe if it was another day or another person, Rick would've hesitated.

On this day with you there, he didn't.

It was quick, at least, your ear ringing and the side of your face covered in a sort of sludge you really didn't want to think about. And Rick was unflinching, at the blood that now smeared across his face -eyes set in a sort of stare that you'd recognized maybe once before.

Carl was the first to move, rushing to you, "You okay?"

You coughed, the adrenaline leaving a sort of dizziness in its wake and your stomach swirling with a kind of dread at what had happened mere feet from you, "I'm fine, I-I swear. Just a little shaken up."

Rick was close behind, without much thought ripping the hems of his shirt off -wordlessly, before taking his hands (that had just killed a man) and so delicately wrapping the cloth around your forearms. Bloodstained fingers pushing gently into your skin like you could break like you were something so precious.

"You don't need to-"

His eyes leveled at you, usually so fuzzily affectionate, now a sort of steely gaze -unmoving and intense. There was something there you hadn't seen from him before, protective to an extent you'd never seen. It wasn't like when he shoved you behind him when a gun was pulled, this was more instinctive.

"Carl, go get some water-" he was condensed in his speech, tone gruff but not necessarily rude -it was more direct in a brash way.

You remained still, watching simply as his hands circled around the scrapes -eyes focused on the motion, he hardly seemed to notice your gaze. It was a curious one, after such a clash in your head -how could he still be so gentle, after-

Carl was quick, a little canteen he kept on his hip filled with, what you assumed, was river water. The camp had been too far for anything else -especially with the speed unless it had been longer than you thought. The bandaging was methodical and with your head in such a state, you wouldn't be surprised.

Without so much as a word, Rick tugged another scrap shoved away in a pocket and wet it, "Thank you. You go check on the others for me?"

Carl hesitated for no more than a second, before heading back the way he'd just come.

Something in you flipped at the idea of you and Rick alone here suddenly -not quite unsettled or scared. It was more anticipation, as the air fizzled with a sort of spark you hadn't thought possible in the apocalypse. Or maybe ever.

Rick was unfazed, raising the makeshift rag to wipe your cheek -his calloused fingertips leaving a sort of trail across your skin. And your head still stayed in that sort of fuzzy spin that it was, a bit more affectionate than the one before. The metallic and somehow woodsy smell grounded you back to where you were, you leaned into his touch -just slightly.

"There ya are, sweetheart," he whispered, smiling in a small sort of way -fingertips trailing over your eyebrow, "-with me now?"

You only nodded, a bit too speechless at a touch so tender after something so... violent.

"Words," he clarified, blue eyes set into yours.

"Yes," you spoke, your throat scratchy and eyes dry, "-yes, I'm here."

Before he could say anything, you gently took the rag from his hand -rewetting it with the ease of a sip from the canteen. Your hand gently brushed across his face -wiping off the blood with the gentlest of movements. It felt far too intimate than it should've been.

Rick was silent, blue eyes in a steady haze across your face -surfing across your features in a sort of pleasant buzz. In the teeniest of moments, he leaned into your palm. His warm skin against your own sent something to your toes then, but you had a job to do.

When you finished, sweeping the rag across his nose with a swift motion -he took the rag, stashing it. In a sort of instinct, his hands went up to cup your face -determination settling somewhere deep in his eyes and a sort of worry in the furrow of his eyebrows.

"This will never happen again," he spoke -sounding somehow like a demand and a promise all at once, "-'kay?"

"And if it does?"

His eyes returned to the steely gaze -far away and distant from where you stood, and the heaviness there was enough to make your heart skip a beat. In fear? You couldn't tell.

Rick didn't stutter then, voice steady and with an unshakeable certainty -like you had asked if the sky was blue. His eyes shadowed in a sort of shade that spoke for itself.

"I think you know."

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #protective!rick #possessive!rick #dont let me in

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velvetcloxds · 11 months

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for a dialogue I don't know if you're still writing for twd but I just read love made me crazy and what about something after that where negan is out of jail and end up saving you when you're in danger or being the only one you ask for when getting hurt?

I WOULD CROSS THE LINE | N.S.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: villian becoming the hero for the person he loves- I couldn't control myself and turned it into a blurb and yes I'm always ready to write for twd- a brief moment where zombies try to eat you but it’s very quick and totally undetailed- ohh also age gap

part one: love made me crazy

It happened too fast, you were always aware when outside the gate, more so after convincing everyone to let Negan come out searching for resources with you, just four of you scurrying about the woods for cans of food you'd never find. You'd never been one to volunteer, much more comfortable organizing things at home but you were losing your mind wondering about Negan in that little cell while were you on the other side with not even a second with him. These little trips were routine, always the same, a few stray walkers that were easy to take down, always finding nothing in the process but things got out of hand too quickly.

Stuck in a room with three walkers, no weapon, nothing but an overthrown cupboard separating you, and without even a second of consideration you called for Negan, pleaded for him and it was like a bolt of lightning struck right through his spine at the shrill sound. He'd never cleared a house so fast, not a care in the world for who was behind him, yelling at him for not staying close, he'd found a knife along the way and the zombies grabbing at you were gone within seconds.

"Y/n," you didn't register the sound, kneeled against the wall, shaking despite your best attempt at staying calm, blood on your clothes and you weren't sure it was truly over. Negan was slow when he moved the wooden frame away, it wasn't an easy task with the dead weight slumped against it, but he wasn't thinking, not a thought going through his mind other than getting you into his arms. "Baby," the gentle tone made you snap back to reality, tremored hands reaching for him before you could register the gesture. "I've got you," he promised and he bit back a surprised puff of air when you launched at him, taking him with you to the ground in the process, holding him impossibly tight as you lingered in his lap.

"You came," you mumbled into his neck, he was cooing softly, hand bushing up and down your back, your arms circling around his neck as you fought against any possibility that he'd let go.- he kissed the side of your head as a promise that he wouldn’t. "You saved me."

"Course I did,” he couldn’t believe your surprise, not that he came, it was more than that, it was revealing a weakness which was something he’d never dreamed of doing, letting people know there was something to hold over him and he couldn’t care less. “Baby,” the word felt foreign a second time, it was deliberate, laced with so many consequences and hidden meanings but he wanted to say it again, a thousand times just to taste it on his tongue. “You okay?” you were, he’d checked before you were in his arms, he had a fleeting moment to do so but the blood wasn’t yours and the scratches weren’t made by the dead, just from the struggle of trying to get safe.

“You saved me,” you pulled away, looking him over, you’d never seen that look before, the concern, the relief at looking at you, you’d always been the one to fuss over getting him an extra blanket or saving him some of your food so he stayed healthy, made sure no one too bad gets put on guard at his cell. He had his moments too though, and would worry about you being on the night shift, or dealing with some idiots letting their egos get in the way but at least you weren’t alone, there was someone to step in if you needed it, someone to keep you safe since he couldn’t. So seeing you like this, scared and seconds away from disaster, made something in him shift. A realization maybe, he was being reckless with you, putting your safety in someone else’s hands when they were more bothered keeping a gun on him than saving you from danger.

“You scared me,” his tone was soft, dipped brows over darkened eyes, the weight of the world drawn black in his irises and you hated being responsible for that. He’d grown hard before you, numb to such senseless emotions like fear and you didn’t want to be the reason he felt it again. You’d wondered if he’d be able to feel, truly feel, what you felt for him yet somehow knowing he could felt worse than thinking he couldn’t. “When I heard you screaming...” he shook his head, cupped your cheeks in his own shaking hands and your fingers were desperate when surrounding his wrists. “Haven’t felt that terrified in so damn long,” his hands fell to your neck, thumbs brushing hair away from the back of your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you didn’t have to apologise, he’d tell you as much soon so you interrupted his thoughts, nodding, pleading for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t mean for any of this,” you didn’t mean to fall for him is what you didn’t say, he heard it even though you didn’t. “Of all the people, it had to be you,” you rested your forehead against his, he sighed, you bit your lip, if only words could describe it, if only the moment could last forever.

“Negan! Y/n!”, Carol’s voice was like a shock to the system, robbing you of your peace, forcing you right back into reality and after the gentlest, purest little kiss placed to you cheek, Negan jumped back, hands in the air in surrender as he stood up.

“In here!” he didn’t look away, gaze stuck on you, taking you in just one more time, making sure, slightly pleased with himself to see your breathing has evened out. “I’m going to change for you,” he promised and you swore your heart stopped, his hands now at the back of his head as if he was preparing to be cuffed. “I’m going to be better, baby, you deserve better,” he shook his head, agreeing with his words, his heart. “Please give me a chance to earn your heart?” you never thought you’d hear him beg, plead for you, your heart something he’s had for longer than you’d ever admit.

“You already have it,” you nearly whispered, footsteps coming closer. “You don’t have to earn it, .”

“Then give me a chance to deserve it, let me be good for you.”

Carol had her gun pointed at him as soon as she came into the room, too busy with him to even take in the dead zombies at your feet or the blood on your clothes, biased, priorities in place. Your priorities were far too different, flinching as she pointed the gun at his head while forcing his hands behind his back.

“He saved my life,” you blurted and the softness in his face was enough to give you whiplash, so different from how he’d looked at her, you were trying to make him human again, to them at least and it was almost as if he was pitying you for having to try so hard. “Carol, he saved my life.”

“I don’t care,” she bit back and your soul ached. “He’s still a monster.”

He’s not, not to you, a monster wouldn’t be kind to you, save you, a monster couldn’t make you fall in love with him. Maybe he was a monster once, maybe he’d changed, maybe he just allowed himself a little too much humanity with you and it ruined everything. You did love him despite all logical reasons, but you did also wish he’d change, not just for you, but for him too, for everyone.

There wasn’t a line he wouldn’t cross for power, maybe this line he’d cross for you, for weakness.

#negan smith #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x yn #negan fluff #negan blurb #negan drabble #negan fanfiction #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x yn #negan smith fluff #negan smith drabble #negan smith blurb #negan smith fanfiction #monique's writing events #monique's event days #right where queue left me

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artbyblastweave · 2 months

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I Am Legend is the predecessor of a lot of contemporary zombie fiction, and in particular a lot of survival horror zombie games. The blueprint for the gameplay loop is there- a single survivor with an increasingly fortified and built-up compound, scavenging during the day and hunkering down at night to withstand the siege. One thing I think a lot of zombie games lose when trying to capture that loop, though, is that Robert Neville knows a lot of those people. He's fortifying his actual house where he lived before the apocalypse, a lot of the infected outside are his neighbors, some of them know him and taunt him by name.

Zombie games usually don't model this element because I think a major appeal of zombie games, from a resource allocation perspective, is that it's a fast and legible way to introduce a huge volume of enemies that you don't need to characterize on an individual level. Anonymity is a virtue. On the cheaper side that translates to copy pasting the same handful of sprites or models; on the higher end, you get systems like Project Zomboid or Left 4 Dead, with the ability to algorithmically generate swarms of differentiated zombies on the fly. In both cases you are not looking at characters who are being written. On the flipside, a lot of open-world zombie survival games have protagonists with deliberately tenuous connections to the setting which they inhabit, for purposes of character customization. Understandable, but it precludes any telltale-TWD-style "I knew the people who ran this shop" moments. It ultimately amounts to a whole bunch of strangers trying to kill each other. One of my earliest ever ideas for a game involved playing as the single human survivor of an isolated hamlet in Colorado, whose population has otherwise been completely infected; the gimmick being the amount of development time sunk into every individual zombie. There would be a static number around the map, individually modeled, with extensive environmental storytelling in their homes and workplaces developing their personal connections to each other and to the player character and acting as a characterization vehicle for both. Your goal as the player would be to kill the static set of one or two hundred zombies, gaining the run of the town to yourself, using your involved knowledge of the community to your advantage. Combat as a tense and occasionally frenetic affair, dependent on positioning, planning, and Trap-making rather than a straightforward hack-and-slash rampage. Has anyone ever attempted something like this?

#thoughts #meta

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intoxicated-chan · 1 month

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𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ❛𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl has many regrets and he carries them everyday and everywhere but this is one that’s going to stick with him for many lifetimes.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “Blue Jeans” by Lana Del Rey. So… What do you guys think? P.S, I did change the title, I didn’t think it fit.

Word Count ➳ 1k

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader/No use of (Y/n), typical TWD violence, blood, death, swearing, injuries, HEAVY ANGST, mentions of hunting animals, murder, no happy ending oops…

The last time Daryl remembered crying like he did when carrying your corpse was when he saw Merle as a Walker.

During the start of the outbreak, Daryl wanted to find you, he was willing to use all resources available for you. Merle had to stop him, reminding him that looking for you was a lost cause, but Merle praised you for your skills. You weren’t a good tracker but damn did you know how to put up a fight.

And so, every time Daryl got the chance to explore the abandoned city of Atlanta or any place, he would look for you even if it was just a sign. He refused to believe what anyone said about you and or mostly likely demise.

With an extra map that he stole, he would map out the possible courses that would direct them to you. Even if he was wrong in all of them, he was able to find one thing.

It was blue.

It was a crossbow arrow with blue fletching, ones he got for you. Each one of them was carved with both of your initials. It was a couple of weeks before the outbreak when Daryl decided to teach you how to hunt and he was surprised at how terrible you were. He took every opportunity to laugh at your horrible aim and how you scared every animal away.

“Yer gonna die if some shit happens!” Daryl snickered at you, grabbing your hands to lower your aim.

“I’m tryin’ dammit!”

“One more- Don’t start givin’ up on me.”

It was only when you started learning when the outbreak happened, that you were lost in the panic, unable to use any phones. And when you went back to the cabin Daryl shared with Merle, it was empty, cleaned out.

But you were determined to make it out and get back to him, even if you had to lose a couple of limbs. You didn’t have time to grow trust, it was do or die, and you didn’t want to die. You stuck around for the first group and stayed with the second—a big mistake.

Daryl kept the arrows close, nearly refusing to use them unless he was sure he was going to get them back. His pattern continued, map and search, search and map.

He reached another deserted city, he didn’t bother to look at names anymore. First, he scavenged for supplies, maybe food until he caught the color blue in the corner of his eye.

He saw another arrow. He confirmed it was yours by the carving, but then he saw another and then another and another…

Some were etched into the walls of the building, laid on the ground, and deep into the dead Walkers. He followed the trail, his crossbow high, he didn’t want to take any chances.

He could hear panting, he could see their shadows scurrying around the room. Hell, they were even laughing. He was caught off guard until one of them came at him from around the corner, he shot with ease, and the arrow lodged into the attacker’s thigh. He hurled it over in pain, clutching it.

“The hell’s the matter with you?!” The attacker shouted.

Daryl only rolled his eyes and shook his head, ready to turn a blind eye until he saw the assailant carrying a crossbow as well and-

Your arrows. Each caving on display.

Daryl dropped his, grabbing the man by his shirt. “Where the hell did ya get these?” He demanded to know. “How?!”

A woman suddenly gripped his arms, beginning to cry. “Please! Let us go!” She begged. “We’re jus’ tryin’ to survive! Look for our families!”

“Ya wanna live another day?” Daryl grabbed his pocket knife, bringing it to his throat. “Y’all gon tell me how ya got these.”

It was like some horrific joke.

“W-We jus’ wanted ‘er help! But she refused us!”

“And where is she?!”

“The cunt’s dead! Like the rest of ‘em!”

You were right where he said you’d be.

You were propped up against the wall. You took an arrow to your calf, arm, and your neck. The blood leaking out of your mouth was starting to dry. You must’ve bled out while they were taking your things, leaving you for dead.

And you were.

Daryl sobbed, his whole body shaking as he fell to the ground. He reached to touch your face, just barely warm. Your eyes no longer held any life in them. He sounded as if he was in pain, his chest turned as he whispered your name, practically begging for you to come back to him.

He cradled your corpse in his arms, something he wanted to do for some time but he was too chicken to even ask. He was too late.

He could no longer ask you to hunt with him, go on a midnight bike ride, take a smoke with him, or let him pour his heart out for you.

The bastards’ bodies were enough for him, even when he did finish the job on both. It wasn’t enough.

He collected your arrows first, took your body into his arms, and brought you to the rooftop of the highest building to lay your body. He remembered vividly how you loved the night sky, he didn’t understand it but that night, he did.

He took in every detail, how every start shined and glimmered. He only wished he could get your input.

But when the sun started to come up, he took your body back down and made a pyre to burn your body. But before he did, he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering words into your ear before he lit the match.

“I love you.”

And as long as he was alive, his love for you wasn’t going anywhere. He would walk this world with regret and guilt until his time was up.

Maybe in the next lifetime, he will have the courage to say those words. But it ain’t gonna be in this one.

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @duffmckagansbandana , @gamingfeline , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck , @oikawarz , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @sleep-queen ,

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loganlostitall · 4 months

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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND

Rating: 18+ for sure

Word count: 1.7k

Characters: Negan Smith, adult gender neutral reader

Setting: Riverbend, season 11 episode 13

Content warnings: light spoilers!!! Be mindful of your own knowledge of the show. Oral sex (M receiving) and also references to oral sex (gn receiving), cum swallowing, spit/drool, slight mention of typical TWD violence, very brief speculation of Negan being dead ig?

Summary: you were in a relationship with Negan before he disappeared without a trace after Maggie took out the Reapers and found Alden. Just when you’re wondering if hope of finding him again is lost… there he is. And he’s very excited to see you.

Author’s note: I literally have no idea where this came from lmfao. I haven’t written in months and suddenly after listening to TDOPOM this little idea popped into my head and I couldn’t banish it so I sat down and slammed this out. Considering that there’s things I’ve had started since September, that’s a huge feat for me lmao. Anyways !!!

No beta, I’m gonna die with my errors like a man 🫡

NSFW under the cut

How long had it been, exactly? Whatever the amount of time, the true answer to such a question was too fucking long. Initially, when you left the Commonwealth a few days prior to venture further than your previous run in search of “resources” (also known as: your missing boyfriend; that you fully suspected everyone was too smart to believe you were looking for anything different, but continued lying to them anyway to avoid any emotional conflict) you hadn’t exactly… expected to actually find him. A piece of you had started to wonder if the time would come where you sunk a blade between a pair of vacant, milky eyes you’d despised and then adored.

And so, you certainly were taken by surprise when one hand snatched your arm and the other covered your mouth just as it had fallen open to loose a scream. Catching the barest glimpse of familiar ink etched across the skin of your assailant’s arm, tears stung your eyes when you realized with nausea sinking low in your gut that you weren’t ready to take him out. Brain not even acknowledging the relieving factor that the fingers touching you were warm.

In your searching for him, he found you. How poetic.

Those same hands hadn’t left your body since. Like right now, one at the base of your skull; fingernails repetitively scratching your scalp, ever so slightly.

“God fucking damn, I’ve missed this. I mean, I missed you too, of fuckin’ course I did, but this? Fucking incredible.” The slew of complimentary expletives were muttered through grit teeth, and between unsteady huffs of breath. A pinched groan followed immediately after the thick words. He was going to attract walkers; as flattering as it was, that was the first thought to come to mind and on instinct you retaliated what he had subjected you to not much earlier by slowly grazing your palm up the planes of his stomach, over his chest, and to his mouth... which only served to inspire another moan.

His head bobbed side to side with some dazed form of a nod and he flashed a tired—but still as gorgeous as usual—smile when he pulled your hand away. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut the hell up,” he sighed, much quieter though clearly without lack of restraint. Pride resounded through you with every flex of his jaw.

The phantom sensation of your back being pinned flat against the tree where Negan’s is now was still very prominent, though the only evidence to show for it was the glisten of his lips and the smudges over the fabric of his jeans that clothed his knees. A dull throb resonated between your thighs when you lowered your eyes to admire the very proof of his head being nestled there not very long ago, and the hum when you smirked around his cock gave him no choice but to bite down on his fist and keep quiet.

With that, you returned to the task at hand or, rather, at hand and mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sunk down until the head of his dick nudged against the back of your throat and did absolutely nothing to fight the gag that sounded as a result. A long time ago, in an entirely different life, things like that had bothered you. Everything about your performance needed to be perfect, until Negan. He liked when you struggled to accommodate him. Got off on it.

The vein along the underside of his endowment jumped and you did not hesitate to flatten your tongue and press up against it, curl the tip, and drag from end to end of the hypersensitive stripe beneath Negan’s skin and revel in the shiver it drew from him.

Scrunching his eyebrows together, he whispered, “Fuck,” and even such a short, succinct, single syllable word seemed to knock the breath out of him. His mouth thinned into a straight line, lips all but disappearing, and the back of his head made an unceremonious collision with the bark behind it. The grimace that found his face was short lived, because that was the moment you decided was perfect to bring a cupped palm and fingers to his scrotum. They drew up instantaneously upon being touched.

He was close already. Aw. He really did miss you.

A heavy glob of saliva rolled out between his cock and your lips when they crowned over the glans, but you simply sucked in a gulping breath and followed it with your tongue rather than fearing the quality of your performance. Smearing your drool down the length of his shaft would surely ease the glide of your mouth for whatever little remainder of time there was here. You would tease him about this later, but given that Negan cumming fast was a rare occurrence, it would mainly be playful bragging.

The practically hypnotic motion of his nails carding through the short hairs where your head met your neck ceased abruptly after deepthroating him once more, and you would have mourned the loss if not for the heavy lidded, glazed over, hazel brown eyes that truly appeared to be doing nothing less than memorizing the way every feature of your face looked when your lips were stretched around him. You pushed up on his balls and squeezed, just barely bordering outside of the threshold of pain for him, and the hissed ‘awfuck-’ was your only warning.

Never would you have believed that you could miss the taste of a man’s cum, and yet here you were, realizing how fucking happy you were to be tasting him, swallowing everything down like some sort of elixir. Hardly an easy task around something in your mouth, and repeatedly ramming down your throat due to him holding you in place as his hips jerked, but you were more than enthusiastic despite it. All you could do was squeeze your thighs together, breathe through your nose, swallow, and allow yourself to be used for the first time in what had felt like the longest six months in your entire life. Suddenly you couldn’t remember a single sweet thing that had ever tasted better than Negan Smith.

Though logically you knew it wasn’t a very long affair, the limited intake of oxygen disoriented you enough that you couldn’t quite tell how much time passed before the grip on the back of your head relinquished and a now softening erection retracted from your mouth. You drank air into your lungs as if you’d been under water and dropped your hands, both of which had a tacky mixture of drool and precum connecting them to your lips and his skin, all while holding eye contact even though his own gaze was trained upon your swollen, sticky mouth.

After a moment to collect himself and gather his bearings—both literally and figuratively because he tucked himself back inside of his boxers but didn’t pull up the zip, Negan offered out his hands for you to grab hold of and help you back onto your feet. There were matching patches of dirt on your knees. As you started to bend down to dust yours off, a finger hooked beneath your chin to raise your head once more. He wiped the light, streaky eyeliner you managed to score from Princess off of your cheeks; and afterwards brought the hem of his black t-shirt to your mouth that was no more than a mess of goop but that wicked tongue of his peeked out from between his teeth as he cleaned up the mess.

“So goddamn hot, baby,” Negan rushed forward to steal a kiss, which you happily reciprocated and that same tongue followed shortly after. You could still taste yourself in his mouth. Certainly, his own flavor lingered behind as well. The groan that fled his mouth to dissolve into yours was answer enough. “Fuckin missed the taste of us. Swear my dick could get hard all over again just from this shit.” His hand dropped to your own jeans that you’d secured back over your hips after you came, just in case a situation arose and the both of you had to be able to run quickly. Bypassing the zipper, Negan slid his fingers past the waistband and dipped into your underwear to gather what remained of your excrement and his own saliva, raising it to his lips to lick his fingers clean. There had hardly been enough time to suppress a moan before his mouth found your neck and you rolled your head off to the side, giggling in the process, to allow further access.

Unfortunately for the both of you, upon looking towards where you could only assume Negan had been taking shelter, your eyes fell to a sight that meant things would have to cease for now.

“…Is that Gabriel?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, forgive me Father or however the fuck that goes.”

His mouth had only ceased its assault on your throat long enough to mumble the words against your skin, sending a chill through you and raising goosebumps all over you that would have to go ignored. Much to your chagrin, Gabriel and Aaron were approaching the building that Negan’s new group resided within, and perhaps it was paranoia but a little skepticism went a long way since the dead started walking.

While half-assedly shoving his face away from yourself, you asked, “What are your new men like?”

“Not very nice,” he answered with a shrug; failing multiple attempts to dodge your hand until deciding he would settle for kissing your palm instead. Would have been endearing under any other circumstance.

“Negan Smith!”

“UuugghhhhUUUUUUHHH fine!” He blustered overdramatically, tossing his arms up over his head with a heaving sigh and roll of his eyes just before zipping his pants back up, and then yours after. You wiped your hands on his pants as he began walking.

And, even despite the current circumstance, after all the time you’d spent missing him, you couldn't help but smirk at his grumblings about no amount of Hail Mary’s or Our Father’s being repentance enough for what he would do to them for giving him Blue Balls as he guided you around the building for safe entry.

Like he hadn’t cum already. If you made it out of this, which you could never be sure of anymore, it seems like you were going to have a lot of sucking up to do.

Literally.

This one-shot was actually a massive challenge for me because I’ve always found it almost completely impossible to write something so short because I try to pour everything into my writing and drag it out.. which really makes me worry that this is horrible/boring 😭

Anyways, hope it’s not and people find it decent. I won’t be doing much x reader stuff because I have an OC and an entire story planned out for him when I find the time, but there will be a few ! :)

Idk who else to tag other than my loyal bffs @murdadixon @hopefulatrocity @lanadelnegan 🥰 besitos para mis bebés

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ssa-montgomery · 1 year

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

Word Count: 9069

Summary: When Y/N is found in the woods by Rick and Daryl she doesn't know what kind of life is waiting for her at Alexandria, but she certainly isn't expecting the complicated relationship she develops with Daryl. Can the pair work through their differences and become friends? And maybe even more than that?

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader, Dog, Rick Grimes, Carol Peletier (mentioned)

Warnings: Use of weapons, canon-level violence, hunting animals, smoking, use of alcohol, mentions of blood, scars, hints at pass abuse, swearing, dirty talk, smut, couch sex, slight breeding kink, oral fixation, oral sex

A/N: I have been wanting to write for The Walking Dead for a very long time and my friend has been requesting a Daryl fic of me for easily over a year so I hope these over 9000 words make up for how long you had to wait! I absolutely loved exploring Daryl's character with this so please do leave me some more requests here or over on Tumblr and I hope you enjoy! You can expect to see more TWD fics around here in the future :)

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

When you'd been out here alone in these woods, learning how to survive day to day as long as you had it was easy to lose track of time. It could have been weeks, months maybe since you lost your camp, you couldn't remember anymore. One day you were safe, in a secure camp with people you could trust and the next a horde ran it into the ground, destroying everything you had. Your group was scattered who knows where during the attack, left to fend for themselves and you found yourself alone once again. Somehow you always ended up back here.

After the attack, you ran until you found a quiet, secluded area with enough coverage to set up a hidden makeshift camp. It was enough to survive but not for long. The natural resources in the area were running low and there was only so far you could travel before it became dangerous. That was how you found yourself here, walking along the side of a long-since-abandoned highway hoping there would be any kind of house or gas station that would give you the resources you needed.

You didn't dare walk on the road, keeping to the side instead with your head down and your hood up. You knew there was a slim chance of running into anyone out here anymore but you didn't want to risk drawing attention to yourself. It was an unfortunate truth that most of the people left now would do anything to survive and you couldn't waste your time on another person that was just going to steal your resources and leave you for dead.

Something caught your attention, a noise in the distance that you couldn't quite place at first. It wasn't until the sound grew closer that you realised it was the low rumble of a car approaching on the highway. You had seconds to react before the car turned the corner onto the stretch of road you were walking along. You slipped into the treeline, hiding behind the closest cover you could find until the car hopefully passed by. Your plan seemed to prove unsuccessful, the car slowed until it rolled to a complete stop where you had just disappeared from the view of the road.

There was low talk muffled by the car doors but you could make out the voices of two men before one of the doors opened and someone stepped out onto the road. You slowly moved your hand under your jacket and pulled your gun from the holster on your hip, sliding off the safety. You tried to control your breathing, staying as still as possible in the hopes that they would simply leave if they thought you had already slipped away or were just some random walker.

"We're not here to hurt you." The man called out, he had a deep southern accent and his voice was calm and steady as he spoke, almost gentle. It was clear this wasn't his first time talking down a situation like this. "We're here to help. My friend and I are from a community a few miles back, we have houses, solar power, runnin' water, and farms. It's safe. We just wanna help more people."

You stayed silent, you weren't stupid enough to trust a single word he was saying based solely on the promise of an impossible-sounding community. Even when you had encountered communities that were this advanced before there was always a price, a price you weren't willing to pay. Not again.

"I understand you don't wanna trust us, trust is a rare resource now. I didn't wanna trust it either when we were the ones with nothin' that were invited in, but it worked out. Our community is safe I can promise you that much and there isn't no price to pay. All we ask is that you can help provide to keep the town runnin'"

"What makes you think I'll go anywhere with you? I have no idea who you are. No proof of your community." You said finally breaking your silence when you realised he wasn't going anywhere without an answer. Even considering trusting this mand was a stupid idea and you knew it, but at the rate you were going with rations if you didn't find more supplies you'd starve on your own, and you weren't that stupid.

"My name's Rick, the man in the car is Daryl. You don't gotta trust us, trust is earned and I respect that we ain't done anything to earn that yet but let us ask you a few questions and maybe you can come back and join our community. We got women and children back home, my own children too if you'd be more comfortable talkin' with them."

It was quiet for a moment while you thought over your options. You could stay out here and possibly never find the supplies you needed or you could trust for once, go with them and maybe just maybe, have a better chance of surviving.

"I'll ride with you, let you ask your questions." You agreed against every instinct in your body, but you weren't going anywhere with them without setting your own terms first. "But I keep my weapons, and if at any point I don't like this or I feel like it's a trap, I leave."

"That's alright by me." Rick sounded almost relieved as he spoke and for a second you believed that maybe he genuinely did want to help.

You stepped out from behind the tree you'd been using for coverage and made a show of good faith, slowly lowering your gun as you turned back on the safety. You lowered your hood and met Rick's gaze for the first time. You could tell now he wasn't lying about how well-developed this community was, his beard was trimmed, his clothes cleaned and he looked freshly washed. Clean clothes were something you hadn't had the privilege of in a long time and a warm shower sounded like heaven right about now.

You recognised something in Rick, the way he negotiated with you, you had been right, this wasn't his first time. You could see it in the way he carried himself, how naturally his hand rested by the gun holstered on his belt, ready to draw at any second.

"You're a cop?" You asked as you finally holstered your gun, feeling comfortable enough with the situation that you wouldn't have to fight. Not right now.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded with a sense of pride that was clear on his face. "Sheriff Rick Grimes with Atlanta P.D."

"Okay, I'll come with you. For now." Rick stepped back letting you take the lead as you walked towards the car. You reached for the closest door handle but Rick directed you towards the other side of the car, making you take the backseat behind the other man - Daryl - you assumed most likely so he could keep a closer eye on you himself.

Daryl unlike Rick was less than welcoming to you. He seemed unsure about all of this, about you and he didn't try to hide it in the look he shot you in the rearview mirror. The look spelt trouble if you tried to make a move and you knew it, shrinking back from his stare. Rick tapped at Daryl's legs, signalling for him to take them down off the dash as he started the car again.

You rode in silence for a while, never once taking your eyes off the men sitting in the front of the car as everyone seemingly tried to get a reading on the situation. This was an opportunity to show you could be trusted, but you didn't make the mistake of believing this was trust yet. Rick leaned across and said something in a hushed tone to Daryl that you couldn't quite make out. Daryl just grunted in response and dropped the end of his cigarette out of the car window clearly not too happy with whatever Rick had just asked him.

"We got three questions we asked new people," Daryl stated dryly, almost catching you off guard as you realised it was the first time you'd heard his voice since you'd gotten into the car. "First, how many walkers you killed?"

"I've been out here by myself a while, lost count a long time ago." You admitted honestly. At first, each walker you killed had affected you, it felt wrong and you were haunted by the lives you felt you were taking but now, it was the way the world was.

"How many people you killed?" Daryl's second question made you stop for a second. You could tell this was the more important question as he actually tore his gaze away from the road to look back at you in the mirror. It wasn't a question you liked to think about. You didn't like your answer, not anymore.

"Enough." Your answer was blunt but it was the truth and all they needed to know.

"Why?" It was Rick that asked the question this time. His words weren't quite the accusing ones you'd expected, instead, they really did sound curious about your answer.

"It's survival now, ain't it?" You didn't meet either of their gazes in the mirror, instead staring down at your hands. Your skin was stained and your nails caked with dirt and blood. Whether the blood was yours or a walker's you weren't sure anymore and part of you didn't want to know the answer. There was a lot you had done to survive that you weren't proud of. "You got all the answers you need now?"

"We do." Rick nodded his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. You felt your breath hitch as you watched him look over at Daryl, a knowing look passing between them. You really did need this, community was survival, you couldn't make it in this world anymore without people and you were aware of that. Perhaps being with people again would mean you could finally let down your guard and the sharp cage you'd built around your heart. "We'd like for you to come back to Alexandria with us."

~~~

You would be the first to admit it was a hard adjustment at first, remembering how to live in a proper community again, with families living in their own homes, jobs and a proper sense of security like you'd never had before. Learning to trust again had been the hardest part as the people of Alexandria tried to get you to warm up to them with conversations and kind gifts. It was over three weeks now since you'd first arrived at Alexandria and you were finally making friends.

With Rick being the one to make the decision to bring you back that first day he took responsibility for you and helped you settle in while he introduced you to everyone. You found quickly enough that you and Maggie were similar in more ways than one and became quick friends along with Glenn. You'd also developed a bond with Michonne as she taught you to use more weapons in place of just your guns.

It seemed everyone was accepting you into the community but there was just one person that it seemed you couldn't win over. Daryl Dixon. No matter what you tried he seemed to keep up that cold front with you. Any conversation you tried to start with him was treated to nothing more than grunts and short answers in response to your questions. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered quite so much if you weren't assigned to share a house with him at Alexandria which made your tense relationship that much more tricky.

You didn't think you'd done anything to offend him and he barely put in enough effort to know anything about you that could have made him dislike you. Rick had assured you it was nothing. that Daryl was simply like this with everyone until he warmed up to them but it seemed to be taking him one hell of a long time to warm up to you.

Perhaps things with your living arrangement weren't all bad because there was at least one person in the house that did actually like you which made things more bearable. That "person" was currently spread out asleep at your feet on the porch. You leaned forward in your old rocking chair and lazily scratched behind Dog's ear which earned you a content huff from the big dog.

You were so occupied with showering attention on Dog that you almost missed the sound of the old wooden steps of the porch creaking under heavy footsteps. You looked up to see Daryl making his way towards the front door with his crossbow still slung across his back. He looked exhausted, his clothes covered with dirt and a splattered of dried blood across his face. No matter what seemed to be going on between the two of you, you were always worried about him when he went out there. The only acknowledgement you got was a quick nod in your direction before he reached for the door handle.

"Rough hunt?" You asked stopping him in his tracks, trying to at least make an effort to start a conversation. You cringed at yourself as it fell silent, thinking he wasn't going to answer. Sometimes you wondered why it bothered you so much what he thought of you.

"Yeah." His answer was short, almost dismissive as always and you could feel your heart sink a little.

"Take a shower, Daryl. Don't get blood on the floor." You sighed deciding to just go back to your book rather than trying to push a conversation any further.

"Whatever." He grumbled as he unlocked the front door and then hesitated for a second, turning back to face you. You looked up at him at first expecting him to say something to you, almost hoping he would but instead, he let out a sharp whistle and patted his chest. In a second Dog had jumped up and bounced towards him, almost knocking him over with the force he jumped at his chest with. "That's a good boy."

With that he disappeared inside, closely followed by a Dog who was happily wagging his tail at seeing Daryl back home leaving you alone to finish your cup of coffee on the porch. The fading sounds of his praising and affectionate words towards Dog, and the lightness in his tone were one of the few signs he let show of his softer side. Maybe someday you'd actually get a full conversation out of the hardened redneck.

~~~

"You comin'?" You jumped at the sound of Daryl's rough voice behind you almost spilling the mug of hot coffee in your hand as you grabbed at the counter to steady yourself. You thought he'd already left the house that morning to go scavenging with Rick, suddenly caught off guard at his question when you thought you were alone.

"Comin' where?" You asked turning around to face him with a look of confusion. It was rare for Daryl to even spend much time in the same room as you let alone ask you to go somewhere with him. You didn't want to let yourself get hopeful that maybe things were finally changing.

"I mean, you said you was willin' to help keep Alexandria runnin' ain't ya?" There was that usual cutting, argumentative edge to Daryl's voice as he spoke but he looked away from you, shifting on his feet. If you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed nervous about asking. "Gotta earn your keep 'round here, I'm goin' huntin' you can help."

"Right. Sure yeah, okay." You nodded pouring the last of your coffee down the drain before dropping your mug into the sink. You looked down at yourself, taking in your outfit and decided perhaps your morning casual sweatpants wouldn't be the best for the job. "I'll uh, I'll change and grab my stuff. I'll meet you at the gate?"

Daryl huffed out his response and nodded, it was about as close as you were going to get to an actual agreement from him. He grabbed his crossbow from its place on the wall and swung it over his shoulder before heading out the front door.

It wasn't like this was your first run, you'd scavenged for yourself long before you found Alexandria and since you'd arrived Rick had taken you out and taught you the best spots. Even Tara and Rosita had taken you with them on a few of their runs but this was your first time properly hunting and tracking with Daryl. He was at the top of the game when it came to tracking and you knew it, part of you was worried you wouldn't be able to keep up.

You changed your clothes into something more fitting the harder terrain of the woods, running over your mental checklist as you made sure you had everything. Securing your knives to your belt you did up the buckle and kneeled down to lace up your combat boots. Lastly, you grabbed your backpack, putting it on before placing your bow over your shoulder. With one final glance around the room, you headed out to meet up with Daryl at the gate.

In the distance, you could see Daryl already waiting by the gate, his bike propped up on its stand as he leaned one foot against it casually. He was playing with the lighter in his hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he talked to Rick. It seemed you were walking in on a private conversation as it was quickly cut off the closer you got to them. Rick offered you a warm smile while Daryl's gaze fell to the ground.

"Right well, you two take care out there. Come back in one piece." Rick nodded, patting Daryl on the back before leaving the two of you alone.

"What were you talkin' 'bout just there?" You asked noticing the way Daryl stared after Rick still obviously distracted by something he had said.

"Nuthin'." He shrugged, shaking himself out of his trance. He dropped the last of his cigarette to the ground before snuffing it out with the tip of his boot. He gave the bike a once over, making sure everything was secured and then threw his leg over the bike. He steadied the bike, balancing it upright with his own body weight before kicking out the stand. "Get on."

"You- you want me to ride with you? On your bike?" You stuttered over your words more than you had intended, not wanting to sound nervous as you stared down at the empty space at the back of the bike.

"You plannin' on walkin'? Come on. You afraid or sumthin'?" He cocked an eyebrow at you, the slight grin on his face almost teasing as he waited for your answer.

It wasn't so much that you were afraid, nothing about the idea of motorbikes scared you but it was the idea of sitting so close to Daryl with your arms wrapped around him for support that sent a chill up your spine. Or perhaps spark was more the correct word with the way your heart skipped a beat in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. It was easier to blame it on fear than admit you were scared of what you might find if you looked into that feeling any further.

"No. Nevermind. It's nothin'." You shook your head trying to swallow down your feelings as you followed his lead and climbed onto the back of the bike. You tried to leave as much space between you as you could, resting your hands behind you so you could grab onto the seat hoping the grip your legs had on the bike would be enough to balance you. Before you could react Daryl reached back without even looking and grasped your wrists, pulling them towards him until your arms were wrapped around his waist. The gasped at the sudden movement, the force of it pushing you even further into his back.

"Yer gonna fall off back there. We gotta be back before dark so imma go fast, you gotta hold on tight." He explained letting go of your wrists as you got the message and tightened your grip on him. Once he was sure you were ready he revved the engine, the sign for the gate in front of you to be opened. He didn't even bother to wait for it to open fully, kicking off the bike as soon as there was a wide enough gap for you to finally be speeding down the open road outside of Alexandria.

You steadied your breathing as your eyes fell closed, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of the bike underneath you. It rumbled over the rough roads, the feeling vibrating up into your legs as the wind whipped your hair into your face. You could understand the appeal of this, why Daryl enjoyed it so much. There was an almost freeing feeling to watching the world pass by so quickly, your focus on nothing but the road in front of you. You finally let yourself relax, trying to enjoy the moment as you leaned more into the hard frame of Daryl's back. There was a cold bite to the wind as it rushed past but the warmth seeping from his body kept you safe from it.

You cursed yourself for even noticing that. You shouldn't be thinking about how warm Daryl felt in any situation, let alone about how the muscles in his stomach flexed under your hands every time he used his weight to guide the bike around a sharp corner. Or how comforting it felt to have your arms around him. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this, you didn't want to be. It made you feel defensive against your own thoughts, fighting with your mind that he meant nothing to you.

You were grateful for the distraction when the bike finally rolled to a stop, letting you sit back as the air fell quiet again when Daryl killed the engine. The spot you'd arrived in was a secluded clearing in the woods and as you listened carefully you heard the gentle flow of a stream just beyond the tree line. It was the perfect place for animals and therefore, a perfect place for hunting them.

You learned quickly that hunting properly was a slow and tedious process, relying on every instinct and sense you had to track the faintest of movements. You spent what felt like hours following Daryl's lead as you tracked deer tracks through the trees, finding nothing more than hoof prints. It was getting late and you were drawing close to giving up if you wanted to make it back to Alexandria in time when you heard a twig snap to your left. You slipped away from Daryl following the noise and then you spotted it, a stag among the trees.

In one quiet, fluid movement you ducked behind a tree, hiding so as to not frighten it. You slipped your bow from your shoulder and carefully lined up your shot, taking the time to focus. You couldn't mess this up. Before you could move your fingers to release your arrow another flew past you.

You spun around as the arrow landed to see Daryl standing behind you, crossbow still raised as he looked down at the kill. You could feel the start of anger bubbling up in your chest, your hands balling into fists by your side. You were a damn good shot and you'd come all the way out here to prove you could provide for Alexandria just as good as the rest of them only for Daryl to take the kill from you. There was no reason for him to step in.

"What the hell! I had that!" You snapped slinging your bow back over your shoulder with one sharp movement. You weren't going to let this slide.

"You were takin' too long," Daryl said matter of factly, his casual tone serving to piss you off even more. You couldn't stand how dismissive he was being of the whole situation as he moved to walk past you. "Thing woulda just run off."

"Fuck you." You scoffed, your words dripping with weeks of pent-up anger now. "I mean seriously you tell me I gotta earn my keep and then I try just for you to take the chance from me! You won't let me! This is clearly personal what the hell do you have 'gainst me Daryl huh? What did I ever do to you?"

"I don't got nuthin' against you. Lower your damn voice. Now." Daryl barked back but he kept his voice low, never raising in volume. It only worsened your anger as he tried to shut down your words of protest.

"No! It's not fair Daryl! I've tried everything and still-"

"Shut up." This time his words came across as more threatening, it was a warning but you ignored it. You had opened that bottled-up anger and there was no stopping it now. His eyes seemed to be watching something behind you as you ranted, never quite focusing on you as he searched for something.

"I'm not done! You can't just treat me like shit and tell me to shut up and then expect-" Before you could finish your sentence Daryl moved quicker than you could process and your back collided with the solid trunk of a tree. Daryl cornered you, pushing you both into the narrow gap between two trees, his hand clamping over your mouth to silence any further protest from you. You pushed at his chest trying to fight back, not knowing what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Jesus Christ woman, you ever shut the fuck up? Listen." Daryl hissed, leaning in until he talking directly next to your ear. You finally stopped fighting when you felt his hot breath fanning across your skin, the smell of his last cigarette still lingering. You focused, listening to everything around you like he told you to and that's when you finally heard it. The low groans and growls of walkers as they stumbled their way up from deeper in the woods. Judging by the sounds they were closer than you'd realised. "Your damn hissy fit screamin' and shoutin' probably drew more of 'em too."

It was too late to try and run for it now, the walkers nearly on top of where you were hiding. You both stayed still while they passed by, even the slightest movement risking drawing their attention. Daryl didn't let go of you during the time that passed, his calloused hand still pressed over your mouth, his fingertips grazing your skin. You were pressed so tight together in the gap that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath and you wondered if he could feel yours too. You didn't dare meet his eyes, not when you were this close.

Once the noise grew distant again and you knew they had moved on enough that you were safe you shoved at Dary, squeezing your way out of your hiding space. You tried to ignore the fact that your heart was now beating in your throat as Daryl stayed still, not moving from where you'd just been as he processed what happened.

"Get off me, Dixon. Let's just grab what we can and go home."

~~~

It was late when you made your way into the kitchen, the only source of light coming from the lamp you'd switched on as you entered the room. Dog let out a whine from where he lay asleep next to the front door at the sudden activity in the room. He was waiting for Daryl to come home and if you were being honest, so were you. He'd left to spend most of the night at Carol's for dinner and you were finding it hard to sleep in an empty house. Even if you were in separate rooms for most of the day there was something comforting about knowing Daryl was still in the house.

You walked over to the sink and poured yourself a glass of water, staring out the window at the night sky. You were pulled from your thoughts - late-night thoughts that you admittedly shouldn't have been having - by the dull thud of something dropping onto the countertop behind you. When you turned around Daryl was standing on the other side of the kitchen island with something wrapped up in parchment paper in front of him. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at you like he was waiting for a response to something.

"What's that?" You asked furrowing your eyebrows as you stared down at whatever he had brought home, trying to guess what it was based solely on the shape of the package. It was clearly Carols wrapping work as you looked at the neat bow that held it all together in the middle.

"Dunno. Some kind of dessert? Carol made it. Said you'd like it since you didn't get dinner. Guess it's kinda peace offering from me?" He shrugged clearly trying to ignore his own attempt at an apology at the end as he pushed the package towards you. You caught the end of the string and slowly pulled open the paper to reveal what was inside. It was a decorative tin covered in floral designs but then the smell hit you as you cracked open the tin. Inside was a batch of Carol's signature cookies you'd grown to love since you'd arrived here.

"Oh, I love that woman. Peace offering accepted." You let out a dreamy sigh as you leaned forward in your seat and picked up one of the cookies, taking a bite. In that moment you genuinely forgot about every argument you'd had with Daryl as you slowly closed your eyes and chewed the cookie. You let out a satisfied moan at the incredible flavour, at the end of the world it was rare to get something that both tasted good and was home cooked so you savoured everything you did get.

When you opened your eyes again Daryl was staring at you, there was something different in his eyes as he looked at you now but as soon as you caught him looking he cleared his throat and turned his attention to the piece of string that he now found so fascinating.

"Try one." You insisted, holding the tin out towards him. He stared at you for a second before cautiously taking one from the tin seemingly examining the ingredients. You leaned your elbows on the counter watching closely as he bit into it and chewed before smiling at his nod of approval.

"It's good." He agreed around the mouthful of cookie. You chuckled as he reached into the tin for another, messily shoving the rest of the one he already had into his mouth, the crumbles falling onto the counter. "Carol sure knows how to bake."

The two of you sat in silence around the tin of cookies for a while, simply enjoying the good food and quiet company before Daryl finally spoke again.

"I meant it the other day ya know, I ain't got nuthin' against you I just- I ain't good at this whole trustin' people thing and I got a shitty way of showin' it. It's been uh, it's been good havin' you here." You smiled warmly at him as he stumbled over his words, clearly struggling to find the right words to say to you. You could see how hard it was for him to even open up this much and you appreciated it more than you could put into words.

"Thank you, Daryl, really. It's been good bein' here too." You said as you reached your hand out and ever so gently and let your pinky finger brush against his hand, not daring anything more than that. He seemed surprised by the contact but he didn't pull away as you'd first expected. Instead, he patted the back of your hand before disappearing off towards his room.

This time you couldn't deny the feelings in the back of your mind or the race in your heartbeat as you watched him leave.

~~~

"Mind if I join ya?" You felt a light tap on your shoulder as Daryl made his way into the room and stopped behind where you were sitting on the couch. A slight smile that you were glad was becoming more common on his face.

"Sure." You agreed with a warm smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. You chuckled as he made his way around the couch and flopped down next to you with a heavy sigh. You held out the bottle of beer you were sipping on, offering him a drink. You'd found a six-pack of them on your last run and decided to bring them home with you to finally allow yourself to unwind a little at night. Daryl happily accepted the bottle and took a large swig out of it before letting out a hum of approval, a content look on his face. You gestured towards the box of them on the coffee table, still cold from the fridge. "Help yourself."

Daryl leaned forward and grabbed a bottle, using the corner of the table to pop off the cap despite you having left a bottle opener sitting on the table next to the box. There was something about that precise movement, how swiftly he popped it open that you found incredibly attractive.

"What's the occasion? Long day?" He asked, looking over at you as he savoured the taste of the beer on his lips. You figured it had probably been just as long for him since he'd found a quiet moment for a drink like this.

"No occasion." You shrugged placing your half-empty bottle down on the table. "We just deserve a break sometimes, don't we? Thought a quiet night in would be nice.

"Now that's my idea of a fun time." Daryl laughed kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. You'd grown to enjoy Daryl's company more than you ever expected. The two of you had come a long way since you first arrived at Alexandria and the cold shoulder he gave you back then. It was moments like these, simply enjoying some quiet time together that made you feel safer than you had since before the world went to shit. Although you'd never admit it out loud, maybe you had begun to develop deeper feelings towards him that were more than platonic.

Daryl reached forward and placed his bottle down on the coffee table next to yours, the back of his hand brushing against the outside of your thigh as he settled back into his seat. You jumped, your leg flinching away at the feeling, not having expected the sudden contact or the shiver it sent through your body. You tried to play it off, moving your leg back and hoping he hadn't noticed the reaction but judging by the look on his face it was obviously too late.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to - uh sorry." He mumbled turning his face away from you so you couldn't see the embarrassment from his own awkwardness. You hadn't meant to upset him or make him think he'd done something wrong, you simply hadn't expected your own body to react in the way it did.

"It's okay Daryl." You quickly assured him, your voice soft as you spoke. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as you tried to find the right words to explain it to him. "It's just- it's been a long time since- never mind."

"Since what?" He urged you on, giving you a curious look.

"I've been alone a lot since this all started, it's been a long time since I've had anyone... touch me like that. Or in any way really." This time it was your turn to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks as you realised what you'd just admitted out loud to Daryl of all people. It felt silly saying those words, you weren't exactly the only one who'd gone through this experience but it seemed to affect you more in moments like these.

He nodded slowly, not saying anything for a moment as he seemed to take in everything you said. His hand shifted across the couch cushion, back towards your leg but this time it was intentional. He hesitated for a second, clearly unsure what your reaction would be, wondering if your confession was an invitation before gently placing his hand on your thigh. He let out a sigh of relief when you didn't immediately pull away from him.

"I get that." His fingertips traced absentminded shapes across your thigh while he spoke, trying to gather the confidence to make his next move. His touch was softer than you'd expected from his usual attitude or the way he'd handled you in the woods. He looked up and met your glassy-eyed gaze, your mind already clouded just by the simplest of touches. You couldn't deny the heat that was spreading out from where Daryl touched you, your breath speeding up with each movement.

Seeing your reaction he pushed forward, letting his hand slide down to the inside of your thigh, tightening his grip and groping at your skin. You let a slight gasp fall from your lips at the feeling and he had to hold back a groan of his own at the noise you made, it was the sweetest damn sound he'd ever heard. And he wanted to spend the rest of the night trying to hear it again. "I want you. I wanna have you like that."

"Then have me." You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper as your mind already raced with the possibilities of what was about to happen. Every thought, every feeling you had pushed down over the past few weeks rose to the surface with such a force it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

That was all the permission he needed to surge forward, the hand that wasn't kneading at your thigh grasping your jaw as he pulled you into a bruising kiss. You had never expected to share a kiss like this with Daryl but it was passionate, almost completely overwhelming as you both released weeks of pent of longing. You struggled to catch your breath as his mouth moved against yours turning you on in ways you didn't know were possible. You lost count of how long you stayed like that, neither of you willing to separate for a second as you made out like horny teenagers on the couch.

You could tell it truly had been a long time for both of you as you savoured every moment, your hands roaming across each other's bodies, learning every curve you could reach. Your hands found purchase on the collar of his leather vest, pulling his chest closer to yours while his hands found your waist grabbing at your hips. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, prying your mouth open as he took complete control of the kiss, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he explored your mouth.

"More, Daryl I need more." You let out a broken gasp as you pulled away from the kiss, tugging him impossibly closer by his vest. You were too far gone now to care how needy you sounded from just a heavy make-out session, all you knew was you needed Daryl unlike you'd needed anyone before. "I need you to touch me please."

"I gotcha." Daryl nodded, his forehead pressed against yours as his hands slid up from your waist and under the hem of your shirt. His fingers danced across your ribs, lighting your nerves on fire as he started to press kisses all along your jawline. He focused his attention on the corner of your jaw before starting to slowly move down the front of your throat. "Whatever you need I gotcha, just tell me."

His hands continued to push up your sides, dragging perfectly across your skin before he pulled away from kissing you just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and drop it to the floor next to the couch. He took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes running across your chest and then he leaned in starting exactly where he'd left off. His lips moved downward from your throat to your collarbones until he reached your chest, leaving red marks in his wake as he sucked at your skin.

His hands fell to your waist again and this time pulled you down, manhandling you into an easier position on your back as he kneeled over you. His body caged you in, pressing you into the couch as he towered over you. In any other situation, the concentrated look in his eyes might have intimidated you in this position but it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. He slid his hands behind your back, making quick work of your bra before it joined the now-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

"Fuck Daryl!" You moaned out, your nails digging into his skin as you grasped at his arms. His hands were on your chest, groping at your breasts while his palms rolled over your sensitive nipples. Your moans urged him on as he pinched your nipples between his fingers before dropping his mouth to your chest, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across the now-exposed skin of your breasts. You were pretty sure you could get off just like this with the way his tongue dragged across your nipple, his lips closing around it as he sucked hard the feeling pooling between your legs.

"You trust me?" He asked, his voice even rougher than usual as it grew heavy with lust. You moaned out your agreement your head nodding frantically and he placed a kiss on your stomach, moving lower this time. On instinct, your legs spread wider as you released what was about to happen. "Good 'cus I've been dyin' to eat your pussy."

Any other time and you might have had the decency to blush at how vulgar Daryl's words were but now, you were turned on beyond belief and all you could think about was how close you were to coming just from hearing them. Daryl took his time, enjoying every moment as his lips ghosted across your stomach leaving dark hickeys on your hip bones but you on the other hand were more desperate. Your hands flew to your pants trying to help things along as you quickly undid the button and zipper moving to push them down.

Daryl grasped your hands and moved them above your head, shifting them to just one hand so he could pin them down to the couch leaving his other hand free to do whatever he wanted. You found the display of his size over you incredibly hot.

Apparently having decided you had waited long enough Daryl made quick work of your jeans and panties, pulling them down in one smooth movement, once they reached your ankles you helped him kick them off not caring where they landed. He settled himself down on the couch lying between your legs as he spread them further apart, taking his time as he slowly dragged his tongue across your skin but never quite where you needed him.

He focused his attention on your thighs again, sucking on the sensitive skin there as he inched forward at a painfully slow pace. Your whimpers were almost turning to begs when he finally had enough and surged forward, his tongue lapping across you. You were soaked between your legs and the second it hit his tongue it was like Daryl was drunk on your taste. His arms came up to wrap around your thighs, spreading your legs even further part so he could reach every inch of you while also pulling you down against his mouth.

There wasn't a single part of you left ignored as Daryl damn near devoured you with his tongue like a starved man. His rough stubble grazed the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the mark you were sure it would leave in the morning as the slight burn added to the pleasure building in your body.

"Oh god don't stop." You cried out, your wrecked voice barely recognisable to your own ears as you dropped your hand down to bury it in Daryl's hair. He moaned out at the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp, pulling at the hair at the back of his neck and the low vibration of the noise hit directly on your clit. Daryl was getting off on this just as much as you were, rutting his hips against the couch as he tried desperately to feel you even closer. He dragged his tongue downwards until it dipped inside you, lapping up how wet you were for him. "Fuck I'm- I'm gonna-"

Your brain switched off, too overtaken with the feeling of your orgasm building to be able to speak as your words trailed off into a high-pitched whine. Daryl doubled down his focus, just wanting to make you feel good as his nose bumped your clit with every movement at this new angle. It didn't take much longer of that pace to make the tension building in the pit of your stomach finally snap. You arched up into his mouth as your head snapped back in a silent scream, your body barely even able to make a noise with the force of it. His hands pinned your hips down again as he slowed his pace but didn't take his mouth off you, coaxing you through your orgasm as he licked up everything he could.

"Holy shit that was incredible." You laughed breathlessly, your heart still hammering in your chest. Your hand moved down from his hair to caress the side of Daryl's face, your thumb rubbing across his cheekbone as he slowly pulled away and looked up at you. His eyes were heavy and hazed over, still basking in the feeling of you coming on his tongue and the taste that still lingered. You had to bite back a whimper at the sight of his beard still glistening with your wetness.

"You taste like heaven Darlin'." Daryl grinned pushing himself up on his elbows as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he licked at your bottom lip. There was something about the way that pet name sounded in his southern accent that had you desperate for him again already. As you ran your hands down his chest you started to grow increasingly frustrated at the fact that he still had all of his clothes on while you were lying naked on the couch. You tugged at his leather vest before starting to push it back over his shoulders.

"Take it off. Please?" You mumbled, your mind already running wild with the thought of what he was hiding underneath those clothes. You'd already found yourself on multiple occasions staring at how muscular his arms were in those short-sleeved shirts and you could only imagine his chest would be just as incredible.

He sat back and let the vest fall the rest of the way down his arms before reaching to undo the buttons of his black shirt. His hands seemed to slow as he reached the bottom buttons, almost hesitantly and when his shirt finally fell open you understood why. What you could already see of his chest and shoulders was littered with scars and you were sure his back would be different. There were years worth of stories written across his skin, some faded enough that you guessed they predated the fall of the world. Some scars you recognised as the circular marks of a bullet wound but others were longer, thinner, more precise, purposeful. When you looked back up at him there was something different in his gaze, he looked almost ashamed of his scars.

"You're perfect Daryl." You whispered wanting him to know you meant every word of it as you pressed your lips to the scar that ran along his collarbone. Slowly you slid your hands under his shirt pushing it the rest of the way off. Your hands ran down over his back, feeling the raised skin of each scar under your fingertips as you went. You took your time, pressing kisses to each scar across his chest as you worshipped his body. His arms wrapped around your waist as you did, his face buried in your hair. Eventually, your hands worked their way down to the waistband of his pants, reaching the belt buckle. "Do you want this?"

"'Course I do." Daryl nodded pulling away from you again to capture your mouth in a heated kiss, it was messy as you tried to keep up with him, your hands working on his belt and zipper. You were so lost in the way his kiss made your head spin as you gasped for air that you barely noticed as he sat up and kicked his pants to the side. He helped moved you onto your back again and leaned over you, his erection pressing against your leg as he moved closer. "You feel what you're doin' to me now?"

"Yes, please, Daryl fuck me please." You cried out your nails scratching down his back as you looked between your bodies and saw how big he was, painfully hard just for you. Your hands trailed around his waist and down his stomach, moving over his happy trail until you lightly grazed the base of his cock. He groaned at the feeling and touched your wrist, stopping you before you could make him come before he even got to feel you. He sat back and settled between your legs, pumping himself before he lined up and pushed into you.

You whimpered at the feeling of him stretching you out and he wasn't even all the way in, he was bigger than you were used to and it had been a long time since you'd had anything inside you. The end of the world didn't exactly leave much room for self-pleasure and even before it, it had been a long time. He waited for a minute, gently hushing you as he let you adjust to him before he moved your leg over his hip. He pushed forward again, this new angle letting him slide all the way in.

"Fuck yer tight." He growled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, not with the way he hit the perfect spot inside of you. His name was the only thing you could manage among the slurred swears and moans that fell from your lips as he thrust into you.

His own voice was becoming strained, moaning in your ear as he held you as close as he could, his hips rutting against you. You could tell it wouldn't take long for you to come again with the increasingly rough pace he was setting but you tried to hold out, not wanting the feeling to end. Your body was already on edge from your earlier orgasm and your muscles burned as you tried to move your hips to meet Daryl thrust for thrust.

Instead, he pinned your hips against the couch once again and left you at his mercy, unable to move to change the pace. His thrusts were getting harder, his hips snapping against you as he lost himself in the feeling. He was just as desperate as you were, needing every second of this but knowing he was drawing close to his orgasm, not far behind you. He was determined to make you come again before he did.

He brought one hand down between your bodies and pressed his thumb against your clit, brushing over it with every thrust. You let out a guttural moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you tried to grab onto anything you could to ground yourself. Knowing even the slightest touch would send you over the edge like this Daryl dropped his mouth to your chest again and the sudden feeling of his teeth grazing across your nipple had you coming in seconds.

"Daryl! Oh- fuck- ah-" You whined out not able to form a whole sentence as your whole body tensed, your hands grabbing at the back of his neck as you clung to him. You rode out your orgasm barely able to tell where it ended as you spasmed around Daryl who kept thrusting into you through it all.

It wasn't long until the force of your orgasm and your breathy moans in his ear became too and his movements stuttered, his thrusts slowly as he collapsed on top of you, coming deep inside of you. Your mind was too clouded from two of the best orgasms of your life to think about the consequences of him coming inside you right now.

You both stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other with Daryl buried inside you. You were panting, trying to regain your breath as he slowly pressed kisses to your collarbone, his face once again finding its way to the crook of your neck. Your skin was sticky with sweat but he didn't seem to care as his heavy breaths fanned across your neck. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed down onto the couch next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders so he could pull you onto his chest.

"That was so worth the wait." You giggled hiding your flushed face in his chest as you came down from your high.

"Definitely." He agreed pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Maybe it doesn't have to be the last time?"

Taglist: @azanoni

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