#twd violence
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Attention
Pt.2
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Being a Grimes was a hard life to live. Your father as an ex-sheriff, mom a cheating whore and your little brother a menace. The apocalypse didn’t help your hatred towards Lori, her cheating with Shane when you all thought your father, Rick, to be dead in the hospital bed you were dragged away from. You felt sort of relieved when Lori passed giving birth to Judith, of course it was rough to lose your mom, but she no longer felt like your mom at that point.
Carl always hated you for how you acted towards her, but when your family reached Alexandria, you had the chance to explain and his attitude changed drastically. While Alexandria felt too good to be true to begin with, your group melded seamlessly into the community. A few months or so passed with little incident, meeting Jesus from Hilltop, living in a false sense of peace. In the time of peace you had, you were going crazy without music, the songs running through your head never letting you fall asleep easy.
So, you fixed up an old iPod with hundreds of songs left on it from before the fall of humanity. Skipping through the house you shared with your blood family, you slid on your socks into the kitchen blasting Choke by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME. You were in your own little world of music when Daryl walked into the room, staring you down with an amused look for a little before he cleared his throat. A gasp left you in panic when you slipped and fell onto the floor, your back meeting it on a personal level once more.
“Fuck Daryl! What the hell?!”
His laugh filled your ears as you grabbed the counter to pull yourself from the floor. You couldn’t help yourself and started laughing at yourself with your boyfriend, his hands clutching his stomach as he keels over. You make your way over and smack his shoulder lightly while wheezing out a small ‘stop it!’. The both of you kept laughing until you slipped again and pulled Daryl down with you by mistake. He landed half on top of you with a grunt as you coughed from his weight being thrown on you suddenly. The laughter stopped after you gave a few more giggles, glancing up to the doorway to see Rick staring you down with that dad look on his face. You panic and push at Daryl’s shoulders trying to get him off of you before your dad came and beat the hell out of his best friend for being on top of his little girl... again.
Daryl stayed pinned on top of you while your dad stared holes into the back of his head. You pushed at his shoulders more urgently, your eyes filled with panic. The crossbow wielding man suffocating you looked up and over his shoulder at the sound of cowboy boots, knowing that only Rick Grimes wore those in Alexandria. He panicked as well, scrambling off you before your dad could reach you, his hands pulling you from the floor to use you as a shield of human meat.
“What were you two just doing? You better not have been fuckin’ my little girl Dixon. If you were I swear to whatever god is-”
“Dad! Stop it! We weren’t doing anything...I sort of slipped and fell and... Daryl fell with me.”
Blue eyes pierced yours before finding that you were telling the truth and nodded, clearing his throat and scratching at his head nervously,
“Maggie's gone into labour. We have to go to Hilltop. Doc says we shouldn’t rush it though. She’s not dilatated yet, but she asked for you by her side, Y/N.”
Both you and Daryl gasp at the news, you scrambling to get your running shoes and a sweater to keep warm. Daryl stared you down as you ran around the downstairs floor of the house for your things. Once you collected them, you kissed Daryl on the cheek as well as your dad before you were out of the house in a blur of black. You no longer cared what your father would say to your boyfriend, just focused on getting to your best friend who was going to give birth soon.
You muttered hellos towards people you passed on your sprint, their eyes wide as they watched you go. When you reached the building you slowed your pace to a walk, entering the building panting and sweating and tired, but that was easily forgettable when you saw the state that Maggie was in. Glenn was at her side as you expected, him not looking the best either as he watched over and talked to his wife. As Maggie looked up at you, relief came over her face before she winced and clutched at her stomach, Glenn grasping her hands in worry. You stumbled to her side, Glenn matching your concern that she waved away even though she looked like the dead wandering outside.
“Maggie... you are not ok. I’m going to find my dad... you’re way worse than you seem. Stay right here!”, you pointed at her spot in the bed as you kissed her forehead and sprinted away, yelling for Eugene to get everyone to the RV.
More people watched you like you were crazy, your hair flying behind you and your steps echoing through the safe zone. Daryl, who had escaped your dad started running with you, questions flying at you as you ran. You answered all of them and he immediately broke away to gather everyone in your group for the trip, also wanting it to be as safe as possible for Maggie and the baby. As soon as you reached your house, you called for your dad and Michonne responded in a tone of confusion and calm. You sprinted upstairs after Michonne’s call back, her stopping you from falling as you tripped on the edge of the carpet.
“Dad! Maggie is getting worse, so much worse, we have to go! Right now!”, you tugged on Michonne’s hands, beckoning your dad to hurry the fuck up because he was just staring at you like he found Daryl on you again.
They both reacted after a minute, shushing noises coming from both of them as Rick walked towards you to gather you in a hug. You sagged into it as Michonne rubbed your back, both shushing you still before Carl walked in and asked why he heard yelling. Then was when you started up again, tugging at you dad this time, ranting about how pale and weak Maggie looked in the bed. Carl reacted similar to you and began panicking, muttering about who would take care of Judith. You insisted that Olivia should but your dad silenced conversation.
“BE QUIET. OK. Y/N, you will stay and take care of Judith, Carl, grab your gun and lets get Maggie to Hilltop before dark. Don’t fight this, Y/N. You know you can’t put Maggie under more stress.”, his eyes met yours and you sighed knowing at every turn for the worse you would breakdown more and more.
“Ok...”, you turned to Carl again and gripped his shoulders, “Don’t do anything dumb there kiddo. Stay safe and take care of Maggie.”
He nodded and hugged you before he left the room, Rick hugging you once more as Michonne nodded at you. You followed Carl's steps out of the room and back to the streets of Alexandria. You noticed Rosita and Abraham walking from a house and sprinted to them, sliding to a stop in front of them.
“Don’t let Carl get hurt. I trust you both. I know you’ll keep an eye out for him. I have to stay and watch Judith... be safe.”, you hugged them both quickly before jogging to find the next group of people heading out.
You came across everyone else already at the RV, Rick holding Judith and waiting for you to approach. You know he knew you would be running around telling everyone to stay safe and to say a goodbye to Maggie. You grabbed your little sister from his arms, smiling at her coo of content being held by her sister. Your head turned rapidly through the group, searching for your boyfriends gruff expression when you spotted him, Glenn and Abraham helping Maggie out on a cot from the infirmary. You walked over to go through your stay safe speech, Maggie holding your hand until she was in the door of the RV, Rick now helping to lift her into the back onto the bed. Daryl stayed back to give you a peck on lips, you exchanged “I love you’s” and stay safes before he was in the RV and then they were gone. You waved at the RV with Judith until it was out of sight, a sigh leaving you as you walked back to the house to play with your sister before it was time for her dinner.
You estimated it had been at least two hours since your family had left with Maggie. Having no way to know if they were alright terrified you, but you stayed calm because if you had panicked, Judith would’ve been crying as well and you could never calm her when you weren’t. Your little sister had fallen asleep on you as you had read her a beat up children’s book in hopes of making her tired after eating. When she finally did, you placed her gently in her crib and wandered to the kitchen. You stared at the floor in contemplation of whether or not you wanted water or orange juice. During your decision you may have zoned out... but we don’t mention that. Holding your glass of orange juice, you sighed. This was the second longest you had ever gone without knowing how your group was. It made you anxious, so anxious that you left the house quietly to sit by the little pond near the back walls of the community. The calm water always allowed you to calm your thoughts but as you sat watching the small ripples, it made you more anxious. You had to move, do something with your body because you just could not sit still, your bouncing leg testifying the truth behind your thoughts (unlike Amber Heard). So you got up and began a jog. It was all you could think of until the old crap box of an ipod fell from your pocket. You stared at it reflecting the moonlight before you realized that staring at it wouldn’t turn it on and calm your thoughts as you ran.
Turning the ipod on and stuffing the headphones into your ears, you started your journey as a light jog. Your pace slowly progressed as you made your way around the entire community, soon enough you were sprinting through streets and weaving around lamp posts under the light of the full moon and stars. The breeze caressed your shoulders as you ran for a while, only stopping when you nearly fell over the edge of a sidewalk. When you did and wiped your brow of sweat, looking around to see where you ended up. Seeing that you ended up at the gates, you sighed remembering why you had began your run in the first place. Time wasn’t really something you were entirely sure of anymore so when you glanced at the ipod time out of habit, you sighed. You never asked any member of Alexandria if they had a clock that was never changed, so your ipod time just read 1:23am. You estimated it might be right but really you just hoped it wasn’t. That would mean that your family had gone for most of the day and night, with no way of knowing when they would be back...well. Until the gates opened for the RV as you had started a slow walk back to the house. Seeing it covered in bullet holes and the look on your dads face as he drove, you knew deep down that something happened.
Your worst fears were confirmed when the door opened and out stepped everyone except for Glenn, Maggie, Abraham and Daryl. Not seeing them brought tears to your eyes as you rushed to your dad and pulled him into an embrace, looking around for answers. Rick looked like he had died and been revived three times with no proper recovery to look like a human again, Rosita was crying, Carl was dead silent and looking angry if anything. It did not settle well with you as your little brother made eye contact with you and shook his head before he walked away from everyone. No one gave you answers as they all split ways, whatever happened out there shaking them all to the core as your dad sobbed into your shoulder. Michonne was the only one who looked semi-normal, her hand steading you under your dads weight. You stared her down curiously, wanting answers about what had happened and where your boyfriend and best friends were. She just shook her head while staring at the back of Ricks head. You knew that meant it wasn't wise to discuss what happened in front of the broken man. He hadn’t cried this much since... well, since Lori died.
So, you went along with it and helped your dad to the house, silently as possible bringing him to his room where he could shower the blood off him and maybe regain some thought. When Michonne situated him under the stream of water and sat beside you on the couch, you didn’t ask what happened. You knew she would let you know when she was ready to put into words. The two of you sat in silence, only the water running providing background noise.
“Everything was on plan. We were making our way to Hilltop but we encountered blocks in the road. The saviors put them there. Negan. That’s the leaders name.”, Michonne took a big breath, not knowing how to explain the rest as she stared at her hands, “It was unexpected. They cornered us. Eugene took the RV the route we were going while we ran through the woods carrying Maggie on the stretcher. We were cornered that way too.”
You listened avidly, leaning forwards onto your knees and reaching to hold her hand, Michonne squeezing it lightly in thanks for your silent comfort.
“He made us kneel. On the ground, in front of him. Negan, I mean.”, she corrected herself when she saw your confusion, “There was a lot of them though. He said he was pissed about the outpost we attacked a while back. Said we had to pay for killing so many of his men, even when he sent more to kill us and we killed them.”
Michonne paused and tilted her head towards the stairs where the sound of the shower running was coming from, “Negan took your dad in the RV somewhere... he won’t talk about it. Before that... he took revenge.”
You could see the struggle in her mind on how to word the happenings before the RV trip with Negan. Michonne had just opened her mouth to phrase it gently, knowing you lost your boyfriend and two good friends without knowing it yet when Carl chimed in from the stairs as he walked down them to the kitchen.
“He bashed in Abrahams head with his baseball bat. Daryl got angry at his taunting, punched Negan, Negan got more angry and based in Glenn’s as well.”
He vanished up the stairs after that, leaving you and Michonne to stare after him in disbelief. On your end it was because you had learned so coldly that two of your friends had had their heads bashed in brutally by a baseball bat, which Michonne soon explained is also covered in barbed wire and called Lucille. You had scoffed at that, as any person would, but the look your dad’s girlfriend sent you had you rethinking your choices. She continued to explain that because of Daryl’s burst of energy and anger despite being injured caused Negan to take an interest him. Which led to the Saviors pulling him from the ground and into a truck to be taken to the sanctuary.
You had frozen, your mind blank with the thought that you wouldn’t be seeing your boyfriend in a long while despite seeing him earlier and everything was ok. Tears leaked down your face as you shrank into the couch, your entire body shaking as grief washed over you. Michonne rubbed your leg soothingly for a little while until the shower turned off, she then excused herself to go and stay with your dad, knowing you had your ways of dealing with sadness. She was right, you did. Sobbing still and shaking violently, you made your way outside again, walking with your head down until you made it to the gates. It would never be the same and you knew that when Rosita came up to you with tears streaming down her face as well and hugged you tightly.
As you both stood sobbing into each others shoulders, you knew that you both had just gotten closer, but also that safety was never something you would get again. With the moon casting shadows over your hugging figures as cries of despair filled the night, something had set in steel deep down inside you. You, along with the rest of the community, would never be the same. Not even with Jesus smiling at you from Hilltop.
#reader x negan#twd negan#light smut#reader is badass#grimes!reader#negan being negan#negan x you#fem!reader#ill make a gn!reader version#character death#twd violence#canon typical violence#tw gore#twd fanfiction#daryl x reader
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Bring Us Back to the Heroes We Were
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader
Setting: France
Summary: Daryl loses his temper with Laurent and you are having none of it.
Warnings: SPOILERS, Yelling at a child, mild violence against a spouse
A/N: That scene was emotional. I felt it in my soul. morgan556 suggested this and I had to go with it!
You had admittedly lagged behind when Daryl and Laurent had walked away to the waiting boat. Azlan had been so kind to both you and Daryl, smiling and welcoming. He had shared his stories and his wisdom. Even so far from home, you felt less alone in his company.
You knelt and placed a trembling hand on the fresh pile of dirt. “We’ll get him there. I promise.” Sniffling, you wiped at your face. You turned once, thinking you heard Daryl’s voice but he’d have to be yelling for you to hear him from there. When you heard it again, you were on your feet in an instant, bolting toward the river. That was definitely Daryl.
“You stupid little shit!” Daryl was leaned into Laurent’s space, fury radiating from him in waves so strong, you lost your breath for a moment. “Do ya know what ya’ve done?!”
“Daryl!” You dropped your bag and ran toward them, your own rage bubbling to the surface the minute your husband’s fingers came in contact with the kids’ jacket.
“Ya think you’re so goddamn smart! Worthless!”
“That is enough!” You grabbed both of his forearms and squeezed, making sure your nails bit into skin. He was bigger and stronger than you, but you had to get him to let go somehow. Placing yourself between him and Laurent, you shoved Daryl back hard, but he stepped into you and leaned around to point a finger in the kid’s face. “I should’a left ya right where I found ya! What do we do with ya now?!”
“Stop it!” You shoved him again and when he came back, your palm met his cheek with enough force to whip his head to the side. “Get yourself under control! No matter what he did, he is a child! A fucking child! Calm the fuck down!”
The slap seemed to have made him take a breath, his voice much lower when he pointed to Laurent again. “I wanna know why. Why would ya do this?”
Barely containing your wrath, you looked over your shoulder. “Laurent, why would you cut loose the boat?” While your head was turned, Daryl shoved past you and grabbed the kid again.
“Why?! Tell me why?!”
You grabbed the back of Daryl’s jacket and yanked, nearly throwing him off his feet while you placed yourself between him and Laurent. “Try it again, Dixon. I dare you. If you think I will let you—”
“Everyone I care about is gone.” Laurent’s broken voice had you turning, his tear-filled eyes flickering between you and your husband. “When we get to the Nest, you’ll both go, too.”
“Laurent.” You said gently.
“I don’t wanna be alone.”
You didn’t hesitate to pull the boy into your arms, burying your face in his hair and letting him cry. When you saw movement in your peripheral, you turned your head to see Daryl reaching for Laurent, his expression softened, those blue eyes shining. You only spared him a warning look before allowing him to pull the kid to him much as you had done.
“Yeah. C’mere. I didn’t mean it.” He placed his chin on the dark mop of hair, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be alright.” He let Laurent step back, the boy’s eyes searching the both of you for reassurance.
“It’s alright.” You smiled gently, wiping away a tear from his cheek with your thumb.
“C’mon.” Daryl picked up your bag with his own and held it out of you. You snatched it from his grasp with a sneer, glancing over your shoulder to see Laurent staring at the empty spot where the boat once sat.
You pointed back and forth between you and your husband. “You and me. We ain’t done.” You spun on your heel and wrapped an arm around the boy, setting off on foot to follow the river.
You heard Daryl’s quiet grumble of “yes, ma’am” behind you before you could hear him following.
#murda writes#daryl dixon#the walking dead: daryl dixon spoilers#the walking dead: daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl x you#daryl twd#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon imagine#twd daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon x wife!reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#outburst at a kid#mild violence#Spotify
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Now, where the hell was I?
Negan | Dead City S01E02
#negan smith#jeffrey dean morgan#dead city#twd dead city#cara gifs#blood tw#gore tw#violence tw#yes i did make this for that second gif#no you don't need to ask why#you and i both know why#he's sooooo#clenches fist#i need him carnally
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Hi! Can you do daryl dixon x y/n where Daryl gets protective over y/n when a creepy guy won’t leave her alone no matter what she says so he punches him across the face, ending in like comforting fluff/ smut or both ❤️
Hello @dustbunniess!! This sounds like a great idea! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you love so much has happened since you asked for this I'm just trying to get by.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus Era (Claimers Era)
Pronouns: You/Your, She/Her (No use of Y/N)
Warnings: The Claimers, Daryl with the Claimers, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crass behavior and language, Swearing, Physical Violence, Assault, Blood, Panic Attacks, Confusion, Delusion, Daryl becoming a literal savage, Abuse, Death, Beatings, Daryl reliving past traumas, Doing what you have to survive, Things happen off screen,
Summery: After the prison fell you were left alone in a world you felt was unfair and cruel. And who could blame you? Truly after all you'd been through? You changed from the person you were in the prison. But then... so did everyone else... When Daryl your boyfriend is the first to find you out in the world you see just how much things have changed with the new group he's in.
Separate Ways
It was when the prison went up in flames that you knew it was over. There was no going back. No redemption. The governor… in some sick twist of fate. Had won. Although your family had taken his life, and the lives of all his followers. You were all left to suffer, and after such a horrendous outbreak that you all had thought you defeated too… The difference was. This time you were completely on your own. No friendly face to turn to. No guiding hand to help you. Just you and the corpse you stabbed in the skull.
You had followed the screams out. So sure you were following Rick and Carl… but so soon you realized you were completely and utterly wrong. Trudging through the woods towards the highway you knew was your Emergency escape route you cursed your lack of preparation. No water, no food. You knew you had to act fast. Find shelter before the sun completely set for the night, find food before you starved... trudging through the thick forest you quickly found a path to follow. It had paid off to have followed your boyfriend on so many hunting expeditions and to help him on runs.
Coming to a stop you stilled your breath slowly scanning the wooded area around you. Nothing but trees and leaves surrounded you even though you had thought you heard the soft crackle of leaves, the snapping of a twig behind you. It wasn't loud and obnoxious. Something you've come to expect of walkers by now. Nor was it natural and fluid like the wildlife you had so greatly come to miss. It felt human. Large and concise. Hunting. Shivers ran down your spine. Bobbing and weaving through the tree line you darted back out onto the road that you had left in favor of the camouflage of the forest. Pulling your rifle you aimed blindly. Footsteps coming nearer. Louder. Like a bear charging it even growled. Placing your finger on the trigger you stepped back. "Stop!" You yelled.
A boy scrawny and pale came tumbling out of the brush. No older than Carl he looked up to you, his eyes wide and fearful he shivered in fear. Plastered in mud and blood you stared him down panting as the adrenaline left you both. Slowly he raised his hands high, shaking like a leaf he shook his head. "I-I'm so sorry." He whispered. One of the governor's, you realized. "I-It's my sister. She's hurt real bad... please..."
Glaring daggers at the teen you hissed through your teeth, stepping forward your weapon still raised and pointed directly between his eyes. "And why should I help you?" You growled. "She's all I got left." He whispered a tear running down his cheek. Hmm... at one time in life you would have felt pity. You would have run to his aid in a heartbeat. Now... Now however you scoffed at him. "Shoulda thought about that before you got yerself blown ta hell and back." You hiss lowering your gun. With wide eyes the boy watches in disbelief as you sling your pack off your back and rummage through it. "Y-you're just going to let her die?!" He screamed. "Pretty much sounds like you are kid." You growl, pulling out the last of your protein bars before slinging your bag back over your shoulder. "Standing there ain't doin' her no favors so I'd hop to it if I were you." You muttered taking a bite of your bar and walking down the road a stretch. Stomping on the ground like a toddler who didn't get his way the kid whined. "No I'm asking you for help!" He yelled. You wanted to turn and glare. You wanted to yell and scream. Hell you wanted to shoot him. But the growling and the thick rustling of leaves alerted you to the oncoming horde early. In his rage he must not had heard. Until they were right on top of him. You wondered briefly if his sister was among them.
Alone again you let the road take you where it will. across a bridge and through a town that was overrun with walkers. It was there you adopted a few walkers to help you navigate the thick hordes in the streets. Releasing them into the next life once you made it to the next side of town you sighed the tire marks in town leading to a hospital you'd rather not go near. So instead a set of train tracks that you crossed became your path. Instinctively you listened for trains. Your boots worn with wear stuck in the wood and on the nails. It was there you saw the first sign. "Go to Terminus." Your heart swelled. You didn't know where they were. How close they were. But you had to hope. Maybe. Possibly. They were safe.
Resting against a garage for the night you closed your eyes for what felt like a mere second. It most certainly wasn't hours... or so you had thought. Leaves and twigs had become your best friend in this world. The early indicator of something to come. But this time it was more. Loud. Uncaring if it was heard. Jumping awake you reached for your gun by your side but before you could grab it a large boot kicked it away. The large man standing before you sneered at you. "So she's awake." He laughed as you pressed yourself as far into the metal wall as possible. Three more men stepped out of the woods around you both. The laughed and jeered at you kicking at your feet as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "Bet she's good." One said. Another had the sheer audacity to grab a handful of your hair and sniff it. As you went to slap him another grabbed your hand the leader with the grey hair chuckled.
"Claimed."
Two voices chimed out at the exact same time. The leader's sleazy voice and another more familiar voice that made your chest hurt with expectancy. You had waited. Hoped. Dreamed. Hell you even dared to pray for the day to come again where you'd hear your love's sweet voice again. But not here. Not now. Not looking down the barrel of weapons pointed against you.
The leader turned. Glaring at the man who dared to oppose him. Stepping into the light of the moon Daryl looked... different. Changed. His eyes were distant and dark even in the night. "Daryl..." The leader hummed his scowl melting as he turned to the archer. Tutting slightly he shook his head snapping his fingers the other men moved in on you. Two men grabbed your upper arms, hauling you to your feet while the others grabbed your shit. "C'mon now..." He growled. Giving your boyfriend a look. "Ya know better by now than to try and just claim whatever ya want... specially if ya know I'm gonna claim it." He cooed circling Daryl menacingly.
You had expected Daryl to act. The Daryl you knew would have. He would never have stood there and took the shit these creeps were giving either of you... but this Daryl... this one you knew in passing but never truly met before... he bowed his head. He turned away. He simply murmured something low. Soft. Something you couldn't hear.
The leader nodded eyeing you. His expression morphing. From wolfish and greedy to concentrated and scanning. "A'ight..." He sighed running his hand through his hair. "You gonna let us teach him a lesson?!" One of the men currently bruising your arm screamed. The others rallied behind him. Cheering and jeering they whooped and hollered. The men holding you jerked you back and forth making you stumble back and forth between the two. There was silence and for a moment contemplation on the leader's face that made your heart race. "Search her... Daryl and I got business to discuss." He growled turning around he spun your boyfriend with him grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him into the woods.
They dumped the contents of your bag onto the ground. Screams of "Claimed" ripped through the air and you were certain you'd be overrun by a horde any moment. Ripped apart limb from limb by the dead you had survived for years because of a few fucking morons. When all of your supplies including the bag itself and your rifle and ammo were claimed... the men turned their eyes on you.
"Can't touch 'em til Boss gets back." One chimed in as a particularly greedy one stepped forward. "Yeah... but she got pockets don't she?." The man hummed placing his hands on your waist. The others whistled and hollered once more as you backed away as far as the other two would let you.
"Don't you fucking touch me!" You hissed, baring your teeth to the bastard. Nodding he chuckled following you he grabbed you once more this time burying his hands deep in your pockets, attempting to cop a feel. Rearing your head back you growled and head butted the man landing a blow directly onto his nose. The satisfying crunch it left and the blood that trickled down between your brows onto your cheeks like war paint was proof enough. "I told ya not ta fuckin' touch me!" You screamed.
"Hey!" You heard the leader scream from inside the barrier of the forest. Immerging from the shadows of the trees the leader stormed up to the group with Daryl following behind like a kicked puppy. The one you hit writhed on the ground holding his face he whine and whimpered as the others parted like the sea for the leader who grabbed you by the jaw getting close enough to smell the rancid canned food on his breath. "You really got some fuckin' nerve." He bit out. It took everything in you not to spit in is filthy fucking face.
Standing back up straight the man huffed glaring down at you a glint in his eye you didn't like. "Now boys... as you know Daryl and I both called dibs at the same time..." All eyes on you. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat ready to fight to your last breath. "Now Daryl has made me aware of something very important here... a rule. See he did... in fact... call dibs first. He called dibs Long LONG before he met us. This here... This is his wife."
Wife? You blinked but tried not to look too surprised. Daryl was locking eyes with you. A quiet desperation there only you could see. Keep the act up. Stay strong. You glanced between Daryl and the leader. You felt the man holding your right arm tighten his grip adding another fresh bruise to your bicep. "Bull shit." He growled, his hands slid down your arm to your wrist twisting it back and up painfully so that you yelped out in pain and doubled over. "I don't see a fuckin' ring on her finger!" He yelled.
You heard footsteps. Not one set but two approaching you. "He's right... no ring..." The leader spoke directly above you. His boots shufled to turn towards Daryl's. "But..." He spoke again his boots shifting again as you felt a new calloused hand take your left hand, the promise ring you bore sliding off your ring finger made you feel naked and cold. "You were looking at the wrong hand..." The leader said his voice low and cold. The man holding your right arm released his grip stumbling back. Sitting back up you twisted out of the other man's hands for a second before he took your wrist lightly.
The leader held your promise ring up examining it. Your initials were carved into the inside of the ring. Something Daryl had done himself with his knife back at the prison when he found a set having stolen the idea from Glenn of course. "Teach him a lesson boys." The man grunted out gesturing with his head to the man who shook his head and begged for his life. You stood stock still as the others circled him like sharks to the drops of blood that fell from his face. Even Daryl who's eyes went as dark as the night nodded to the command, picking up something from the ground.
Your vison blurred, all you could see was Daryl's back. Blood splattering. You heard the screaming. Jumping at the hand on your shoulder you looked to the man turning you away from it all. "I haven't properly introduced myself yet." He murmured watching you swipe pink tears from your cheeks. "I'm Joe. I'm the leader of this here group. The Claimers. We don't normally keep women long... They get passed around a bit and then... well we get bored and they end up roaming as one of the other biters." He chuckled eyeing you up. Hyperventalating you shook your head pulling away slightly when you felt his arm wrap around your waist. "Now now," He whispered in your ear. "You're a valued honorary memeber." He cooed but his expression became cold and dark. "That means... you work for what you keep. You start with shit. And half yer shit goes to Daryl. Like in any good marriage." He said menacingly, grabbing your wrist. "Oh and one last thing... I get to taste you one time... just part of the deal Daryl and I worked out to let you live."
Cut between confusion and pain you wondered if all the promises Daryl ever made to keep everyone safe were in vain. Who was he? Was he really the man you met back at the Quarry and fell in love with? No... Probably not... He was different. Changed. Evolved into something different. Looking over your finger as Joe slipped your ring back on your finger you felt sick to your stomach. This Daryl, dripping in another man's blood was animalistic. He was brutal and cold.
That night Joe told everyone to just bunk down in the garage. Safer. He said. You tried to clear your head of the mess of a human corpse outside the metallic walls. Following close behind the others you followed Daryl like a lost puppy. "Claimed" Echoed through the building as all the "good" spots were being taken. But Daryl just stood. He waited out in the open and waited with you by his side. Never once looking at you or acknowledging your existence. "Dar-" You tried to speak but was only ignored as he turned away once everyone went quiet. "Claimed." He yelled out when he found the most secluded spot in the garage behind a tarped tactor.
Pointing to the ground he looked around for a moment, waiting for your to sit on the ground. "Dar-" Shaking his head he knelt pulling a blanket from his bag he tossed it over you. "Here." He muttered. Not looking at you. Never looking at you. He stood and walked back out of the garage.
Even with the wool blanket you felt alone and cold. Even more so than when you were actually traveling alone. You hated it. This feeling of abandonment. Blinking back tears your glared at the ceiling wrapping yourself tight in your blanket you tried to fall asleep.
Hours passed. You hadn't slept. How could you with the men snoring like chainsaws all night. But the door opening and closing quietly didn't go unnoticed. Rolling over you turned to Daryl as he approached you slowly. Kicking his boots by your feet he laid down beside you. Lifting the blanket you welcomed him into the warm environment you created with time. You fully expected him to turn you away. To roll away and huff. But instead he scooted close. pulling the blanket over you both.
His arms were around you in a second. Finding tender blossoming bruises he burried his face in your neck. The wetness of his cheeks stained your dirty shirt. "Thought I lost you." He whispered. "Wasn't gonna let anyone take you... Not..." He went silent pulling you as tight as ever. Happiness and warmth swelled in you. Love and security. Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his wet hair.
Truth be told he still smelled like a wet dog. Musty and damp. But he washed off. Didn't stop you from feeling angry and betrayed. "Daryl... Why did you tell Joe..." You swallowed the doubt that still reigned suprieme and rampaged like a tornado in your mind. "Why did you tell him he could... have me?" There was a moment Daryl was silent. You thought he would lie. He would divert the situation. But instead he pushed himself up on his elbows and cocked a brow. "Never said that." He whispered. "Did that prick say that to ya? Say ya owed him somethin? "He whispered his eyes scanning you worriedly. You nodded slowly watching his reaction. Nodding Daryl hummed. "Ok."
Blinking you tried to read his face in the dark. "O-Ok?" You whispered. Nodding he lowered himself down to your ear. "Can't say out loud what I want to do ta the bastard. Someone could hear." He breathed. "Oh..." You tensed. You eyes instinctively scanning for threats but the dark felt claustrophobic and you wanted to simply run.
You were kicked awake early the next morning. You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep. Another night of closing your eyes and suddenly jerking awake to danger feeling entirely unrested... Nothing new but you could never get used to it either. "Up an 'em, sweetheart." The man with greasy hair murmured. In the morning light you could see the shiner that was swelling half the man's face. A large cut ran down his forehead to his cheek that in the old world would have required stitches to keep it from scaring but now would just prove as a lesson to the man to listen better in Joe's twisted system. "Waistin' daylight..." He growled once more glaring at your boy- No. Your husband.
Daryl seemed to respond in kind. Huffing at the man he stood with a low painful groan. "Let's go." He murmured softly offering a hand to you.
You followed on Daryl's heels throughout the day like a duckling to their mother. Keeping your eyes on the wings on his back, you tried to stay strong and keep from physically acting on the men who treated you more like an object than a human. "Why you carryin' yer own bag when you got a bitch ta do it fer ya?" The rotund one called, chuckling as you moved to Daryl's left away from him. "No on would blame ya if ya went off and unwound on her for a bit... hell I'd even let the boys have a turn when I was done." One of the men with a beanie called out smirking at you from across the crick you had all stopped at to refill your canteens in. Holding your middle you glared at him. Daryl stood handing you your canteen. Reaching out you caressed his arm to sooth him. You were safe if he was here. He couldn't be if he was hurt or dead. He needed to act rashly.
"Shut up." He hissed despite it all. The Dixon temper was never one that could easily be quelled. When pushed down it only became more explosive. More dangerous. "What did you fucking say to us?" The three men rounded you. "We're just tryin' ta be friendly like." The greasy haired man that woke you growled. "Don't need no friends." Daryl growled stepping up to him. "Daryl." You whispered, reaching out to touch him but decided against it when you saw the crazed look in your husband's eye.
"Enough."
Joe's commanding voice ripped the fight apart before it could start. "Len, go fetch some firewood and scout the area. Got a feeling we could get lucky 'round here. Tony, go sharpen that damned blade of yours it couldn't cut butter if we had any for fuck's sake let alone take a biter down if we needed. Dan, fuck off with Len. Set up a perimiter. Daryl. Go hunting for dinner." Joe gave out orders like it was nothing. But your heart pounded in your chest and and nearly leaped into your throat when he met your throat reaching into his bag to grab something. You watched Daryl closely. Every muscle tense and primed to act in case Joe acted pulling something. His hand snaking to the pistol he had hidden at his back.
"Honey, I need ya ta wash our shit. Our clothes, specially our socks and boxers are really starting to get ripe and chafe us. I think you could handle that much... huh?" He purred walking up to you handing a small bundle of used men's socks and boxers. The smell was horrendous and made bile rise to your throat. You had to force yourself to breath the same way you would in a hot summer day around a horde of walkers to get by. "Ok..." You whimpered nodding. Freezing when you felt his hand on your shoulder you stood stock still. "And, sweetheart..." He hummed, his grip becoming incredibly painful his soft expression turning hard. "It's sir to you... Yes, sir. Say it." Whimpering you tried not to give into him. You didn't fall to your knees or bow as he desperately wanted you to. Instead you turned to glare at him your hair swirling around your, a single tear as his only satisfaction. "Sir, yes, sir." You growl stumbling as he pushed you forward into the water.
Hours passed by. Joe gave you meaningless task after meaningless task. Anything to see you in a compromising position. Scrub his boots. Wash his hair. Wash your hair. Sort their bags. Weave a basket. (Something you didn't know how to do and utterly failed in doing.) When he ran out of tasks to give you he made things up. Jump in place in front of him. He tried to make you bathe in the crick but when you threatened to cut his balls off he laughed and said it was a joke.
"Hey..." Len's voice cut through your newest meaningless task. picking up acorns while Joe watched. Looking over your shoulder you cocked a brow at the man that seemed far too excited to have just been told to fuck off for a few hours. "We found something." Dan muttered. Walking out of the woods with a string of rabbits Daryl glared hard at the ground. You'd seen him through the treeline throughout the course of the day. Taking aim at Joe at certain angles when he was certain the older man wasn't looking. But Joe always laughed or shook his head. "I know your watching Daryl. Go back to hunting." Or a promise of "I won't touch if you don't shoot."
"We found a camp!" Len cheered, pulling you from your thoughts. "A camp?" You breathed without thought. "Hell yeah girl." Joe murmured misreading your concern for excitment and curiousity. Or rather ignoring it completely as he slapped you hard on the back making you drop the acorns you gathered. "Come on let's show our newbie how it's done..." Joe said smiling so much like the devil that when you actually met him years later you'd never believe it.
The camp was small. It only housed two people. A man and a woman. The woman gathered baby supplies on a pink baby blanket before her. Brunette hair caught the wind just so that her face was concealed an you never truly saw her face. The man was undoubtedly in love with the woman. From the distance you hid you swore the couple were Glenn and Maggie. Your heart pounded deep in your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to stop the scream that threatened to rip through you.
"We flank from all sides." Joe whispered so low you could barely hear him over the ringing of your ears. "Daryl." He whispered, moving closer to the two of you as the others moved into position. "I want to actually see you in there this time. No late arrivals." He hummed nodding as Daryl grunted in response.
"C'mon." No.
"Darlin'... We need ta move." Daryl whispered. No, God please no.
Your entire body shook, your eyes wide as saucer plates. Moving forward in the brush you only stopped when you felt Daryl's hand on yours. Turning to Daryl fear in your eyes you shook your head. Not again.
Pulling you away into the denser brush as Joe began his speech to the couple you could just barely see the others moving in.
Your body jerked when the screams started. Pulling at Daryl's hand you sobbed hard. "Daryl!" You wailed only to be pulled back his hand covering your mouth so your sobs were muffled. "It ain't them." He whispered. Pulling you incredibly tight you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck hot tears rolling down your collar bone mixing with your own. "It can't be them."
That night you all slept under the stars. Fire lit and as warm as you could be in the middle of fall you and Daryl were of the first to retire, finding a spot in the dirt to bed down you laid against a large tree your back pulled against him. Just like when you two started dating out on the road. His wool blanket provided enough warmth to the both of you that the ground didn't bother you. Even with the rocks and roots digging into your side.
Just as you started to nod off you jerked awake to the sound of sets of heavy drunken footsteps. Daryl's arm wrapped tight around your middle. pulling you close. The others had found liquor at the camp and indulged heavily in it. Only Daryl and Joe refused to touch it.
"Claimed!" One man screamed loud. Belligerent. The smell of booze stained the air and made your empty stomach turn. "Nuh-uh." Another hissed. "I already claimed that spot." Len... Daryl had told you to watch out for him. He had an issue with claiming what wasn't his. he'd claimed what little food Daryl could get out hunting while on patrol.
"Bull shit!" The other man, you assumed to be Ivan screamed back. "It's true!" You tried to tune them out, squeezing your eyes shut breathing slowly, hoping you and Daryl went unnoticed. But as the fight got worse and worse you couldn't help the way you physically jumped when Tony landed on the ground on his back near by the two of you. Covering your mouth Daryl pulled you tight against his body as the two men rolled onto the wool blanket then off again.
You couldn't sleep after that even if sleep found the two that fought just a few moments ago. Turning to Daryl you buried yourself deep in his chest. "What was the wife thing about?" You got the courage to ask when all was quiet and the snores of the men matched the previous night. Shaking his head Daryl laid back staring at the night sky. He was silent for a moment. Whether he was waiting for a break in the snoring or simply listening for any eave's droppers you'd never know. "Probably shoulda done it a long time ago... just..." His words fell off going silent. Sitting up you captured his eyes in yours. "I love you, Daryl." You whispered. "We'll find them... I promise." But he remained cold. His eyes dark, distant. "Get some sleep."
Time seemed to go in a blur after that. Days and nights melded together. Didn't matter which was which truly. You never felt rested. Your stomach never empty. Daryl attempted to feed you his portions. But as the lowest on the poll he got scraps as it was and you hated taking what he had.
You were tired and underfed when you found Rick, Michonne, and Carl. You had believed that they were just visions when you first saw them. Len held you by the arm. "Gotta make sure she gets in on the action with this one!" He yelled, jerking you around. Wide eyed and in disbelief you gapped like a fish. These people looked just like your family.
"Rick?" You managed. Silence. Joe turned to you his eyes questioning before he gripped you hard. Jerking away you tried to free yourself from his grasp. "Hey! Let her go!" Michonne screamed from the grasp of another man. "Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Carl cried. You nearly wailed out and fell to your knees in pure bliss and euphoria. Hearing their voices. Knowing for a fact they were real. But you were on the ground before you could act. Your face to the pavement you groaned as a boot ground against the back of your skull holding you there. "I've got one free ticket to paradise here boys... why not use it while the pickin's good?" Joe hummed.
You screamed as hands grabbed at you before you could even process the cold pavement below or the screams of your family by your side. Swinging with all your might in any direction you could get a good hold on you connected a few good hits. The yelling from your family was nightmarish. You forced yourself to close your eyes Not wanting to witness or watch what could possibly be happening. Daryl had shielded you last time. Alone you felt vulnerable and terrified.
The boot on your head made your head pound and ache. It was crushing your head and it felt as if your brains would spill if they stepped any harder. Your hair was yanked. Your blouse cut down the back. But before anything else could happen. The person on your head. Joe you believed. Stumbled off. A resounding smacking of knuckles to skin echoing through the woods. Sitting up your shirt slid from your shoulders as you stared wide eyed at Daryl. He had gotten one good swing in. Glancing to you was his downfall. He was dogpiled before he had the chance to say otherwise but the others forgot the knife in your boot. They forgot to check Carl or Michonne in their haste.
Blood pooled on the highway. The five of you stood gasping as one family unit once more, covered in blood but victorious above all odds. Gasping and staring down at the ugly hideous creatures below you, tears rolled down your cheeks. Daryl once again refused to look at you. Instead he offered his vest to you to cover you up with. Instead he turned and glanced to Rick a heartbroken boy staring at a man looking for forgiveness.
You were enveloped by Michonne and Carl before you could say other wise. Not that you would ever pull away ever again. Pulling them close you watched the makeshift brothers share a silent conversation. One guarded and afraid.
The other loving and accepting willing to forgive.
Rick held Daryl tight as he cried and the three of you migrated to them. Hugging them tight you rested your head on Daryl's shoulder, closing your eyes. For the first time since the fall... there was a small flicker of hope.
#the walking dead#twd#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#dark fic#dark themes#dark thoughts#the claimers#twd the claimers#tw violence#long post
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Only Stitches Can Be Undone
[Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: There's nothing more painful than coming to terms with the fact that not everyone can be saved.
WC: 1909
Category: Angst, Comfort (TW - Mentions of death and gore).
I wrote this during my class and didn't pay the least bit of attention to my professor, so I did not proofread it at all lmao. Still, feel free to reblog and drop a few comments on this piece of work. Daryl has my whole heart
『••✎••』
You still felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you tended to Daryl's wound. The dim light of the lantern was casting long shadows on the walls of the abandoned shed where you had sought refuge. The gunshots from before were still ringing in your ears, and your heart was pounding in your chest. You attempted to take deep breaths to calm down, but it wasn't working.
Daryl was sitting beside you, holding up the rusty lantern so you could see what you were doing. He was covered in dirt and sweat, as usual, but his face was pale. He looked as if death warmed over, but he didn't say anything, not a word. He didn't grunt, fight, or even close his eyes as the "recently scavenged" hydrogen peroxide poured over his knee. His eyes just watched you work, watching your shaken hands as you pulled out your needle and thread from the medkit. It seemed as though he could hear every single heartbeat in your body, every thumping pulse in your temples.
Wiping some of the sweat off your brow with the sleeve of your shirt, you began sewing up the bullet hole that had gone clean through his leg. You couldn't believe how lucky he was to have been shot by a high-powered handgun rather than an assault rifle; at least this time, it hadn't hit any bones. Your fingers moved quickly as you sewed the thick threads together, glancing back at him only once before continuing with your task. You could see the look of pain in his eyes, but he stayed silent. He didn't try to move away, either. In fact, he looked as if he was trying to show you that everything would be okay.
"I'm sorry," you whispered. "This isn't my area of expertise…"
He held up one hand and shook his head, keeping the lantern steady while you worked. "It's aw-right," he said quietly. "Just do what you can."
After a few minutes, you finished stitching the wound closed. You gently cleaned the wound with antiseptic wipes, then applied a bandage, taping it securely in place. Once you were sure that the wound was sealed and wouldn't reopen, you sat back on your heels, taking a moment to catch your breath.
"You good?" Daryl asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.
You nodded slowly, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look it."
"I'm fine, Daryl." You tried to sound reassuring, but he didn't seem convinced. "You're the one with the actual injury, remember?"
He scoffed, "At least I ain't shakin' like a damn dog shittin' razorblades." Harsh words, but true. The pain must've been getting to him because his voice was growing louder. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, "You've been shakin' like that since we've got here. What happened? Did they hurt ya? Where?"
"No, it's not that. It's just-" You paused, holding your hands up apologetically. "Look, it doesn't matter," you said softly. "We need to get back to the others."
"Guilt? Right?" He was staring at you intently, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "About that girl?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking away from him to hide your embarrassment and avoid his gaze. Daryl had never seen you as weak before; he knew you were capable of protecting yourself, but he'd also known there were times when you needed help. This was one of those times. You wanted to tell him about it, but you also didn't want to burden him. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't pushed her into coming along, then she-she wouldn't have…" You trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"She would've gotten herself killed, anyway," he muttered, turning his head so that he wasn't facing you. "She ain't worth worryin' about."
You snorted, rolling your eyes. "She was innocent, and then she died. In front of me. Her blood is on my hands, and that makes her worth worrying about, Daryl."
"Maybe, but you weren't the one who killed her, were ya?" He asked.
You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words to respond. Finally, you just turned to look at him, meeting his gaze with a serious expression.
"No," you admitted. "But that's not the point. How many more times are people going to die on my behalf?"
You forced yourself to look away from him again, feeling a tear run down your cheek. "How many more times does someone get to suffer because of the choices I make?"
Daryl was quiet for a long time before finally responding, "It's not your fault."
"You think so?" You frowned. "Then why did I feel like such shit?"
He shrugged, grunting, "Maybe you're just sensitive."
You made a face. "That's not it."
Daryl was still quiet, giving you the chance to think. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, and he sounded slightly sad, "Listen, none of us knew what was gonna' happen out there. Sometimes things go wrong."
You swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "I know."
Yet, despite knowing that, you couldn't stop thinking about the girl. She'd been so young, with the whole world ahead of her. Now that she was dead, it felt like a waste of potential. It's a terrible waste. Her smile was a memory now, and her name was lost to time. What little happiness she'd experienced had been taken from her by a monster. A monster that was now beside her, his body broken, bleeding, and dying.
You'd found the girl in a diner, alone and scared. At first glance, she looked like any other frightened girl, but upon closer inspection, it became clear that she was not normal. She was unnaturally pale, her skin almost translucent. Her hair was dark, which told you that she was probably from the South or the Midwest, and yet her eyes were bright blue.
Her eyes had been the first thing that drew your attention, but it had been her smile that truly captivated you. She'd smiled at you, a genuine, sweet smile. She hadn't seemed afraid of you, only curious. When she'd spoken, she'd done so quietly and gently, even though she had no way of knowing how loud she was. The girl had been so genuinely happy, and you could see it in her eyes. She'd been so hopeful for the future.
And then, you've made the mistake of bringing her along. Daryl was against the idea from the start, but he kept quiet once you've decided to ignore his "advice" and take her with you. You wanted to give her the same chance that Rick had given you. You wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to live the life you all were supposed to have.
That didn’t happen as the three of you ended up being ambushed in the woods. Unfortunately, two men decided they wanted to rob the collection of squirrels Daryl was slowly gathering over the course of the trip. So, one minute, you were cracking jokes with the girl as you walked through the forest, and the next, she was gone. Her neck was obliterated, fresh blood soaking the both of you.
You were paralyzed by shock and horror. You couldn't move. You couldn't think. All you could do was stare, dumbfounded, as she started choking on her own blood. You felt arms wrapping around you, pulling you back, but you couldn't turn your head. It was too much. Your whole world had crashed down on you, and you couldn't bear to look at her anymore.
Daryl had pulled you away, covering your mouth so that you couldn't scream. Your back was pushed against a tree, and you did nothing but shake. There was so much pain inside of you. So much anger. And yet, all you could do was cry. You cried and begged. You clawed at his arm, trying to break free, but he wouldn't budge.
Finally, you'd stopped crying, but you refused to let go of his shirt. His grip tightened around you, his hands digging into your shoulders. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, you heard the sound of crunching leaves.
Daryl's voice was calm, cool, and collected, "Stay here," he instructed you softly. Then, without another word, he turned and walked off into the darkness.
A few moments later, he came back carrying the girl. His face was grim, and he wasn't smiling. Her body was limp in his arms, lifeless. He laid her down gently, and you saw the deep gash in her throat, the way her neck was torn to bits and pieces. For some reason, you felt compelled to say something. It was as though Daryl's arms were the coffin, and your words were the dirt. Still, you had to speak because if you didn't, you might never get the chance again. "I'm so sorry."
Daryl's eyes softened for a moment and then hardened once more. He said nothing. Instead, he stepped forward and pushed you behind him. Then, he knelt down next to the girl and closed her eyes. After he covered them with a handkerchief, he pulled out his knife for the final send-off. The quick puncture to the brain ensuring that she stayed where she laid.
Then, he stood up, took a step back, and looked down at you. "Come on," he said harshly, his voice low and cold. Then, he turned around and walked away from the girl's body.
You followed him silently. That's when you noticed the small limp he had and the blood seeping down onto his boots. He attempted to hide it, but his legs were trembling beneath him. You knew instantly what had happened, and you knew getting him to stop and rest would be a near-impossible feat.
Yet, here you were, sitting beside him against the rotten walls of the abandoned shed, watching him wrap his fingers around the handle of his crossbow. The lantern was still lit between you two, casting shadows across your faces as you stared at each other.
Daryl said nothing for several long seconds. He just sat there, holding the crossbow, staring into its depths. Eventually, he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. After a brief pause, he opened them and looked at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly.
"She was nice," he murmured, not looking at you, but you could hear the sadness in his tone. "Didn't deserve to die like that."
You nodded weakly in response, unable to find the strength to speak. "They deserved worse," you managed to say before you fell silent again.
Daryl didn't say anything else. He just remained where he was, holding the bow tightly, breathing heavily. He looked better than he had a few moments ago, but he didn't look well. He still looked exhausted and worn out. But you knew he'd bounce back soon enough. He always did.
As time passed, Daryl slowly started to drift off to sleep. You could tell he hated letting his guard down, constantly bothering his wound just to keep himself awake; however, you knew he couldn't stay awake forever, and eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion. His heavy eyelids drooped closed, and his breathing slowed.
You watched him for a while, a soft smile on your lips as you gazed at his sleeping face. Because now, you had someone to watch over.
Someone you knew you wouldn't let down.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#the walking dead fandom#x reader#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon angst#rick grimes#angst#comfort#daryl dixon x female reader#hurt/comfort#injured daryl#twd season 2#glenn rhee#maggie rhee#carol peletier#the walking dead fanfic#fanfic#reader#the walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead daryl#twd fandom#tw death#tw gore#tw violence#daryl dixon fanfiction
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Candid photo of Carl after saying/doing the most out of pocket shit ever.
He’s definitely Rick’s son.
#heaven is just another lie#and if you believe it#YOU’RE AN IDIOT#he chooses violence every time#twd carl#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes
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You should see me in a crown - Chapter 4 (Y/N Grimes/Negan Smith)
AO3 LINK
Chapter 3 // Chapter 5
Masterlist
A/n: Hi, this is my second story ever and I wrote it like 5 years ago but was too scared to post it lol so if you could give any feedback that would be much appreciated! I have more chapters to this so if you want ‘em ya gotta let me know!
Y/N is like 20 in this and Negan is whatever age he is in season 7 so if that’s too much of an age gap please turn back!
Warnings: 18+ smut dn interact if not 18+ afab!you, daddy kink, kissing, age difference, abusive!Rick Grimes, protective Negan, sexual touching, domestic violence mention (not caused by Negan), fat shaming of Fat Joey
Summary: Y/N and Negan settle into Negan's bed. Confessions are made and they end the night together.
When we arrive at the sanctuary, Negan takes me straight to the doctor. He asks for something while I wait outside the closed door of the makeshift clinic. I’m still kind of dazed that this is actually happening —that I’m willingly back at the Sanctuary when only a few days ago I would have been lucky to make it out with my life.
He emerges and flashes me a grin, holding a bottle that looks like maybe it’s a type of lotion and then he leads me to his bedroom. I trail behind him curiously.
“We missed dinner,” he grumbles when we enter, dropping Lucille on his bed. He steps back and looks me over, taking off his leather jacket to reveal his tight white t-shirt. God, he looks good. I feel my neck go hot. I want to feel him so badly. “Aren’t you just a time-consuming endeavor?” he smirks. “Hey, you hungry, Y/N?” He asks as he looks me over from head to toe. “Shit, I mean, when was the last time you even ate, kid?”
“Gee, I dunno, Mr.Give-me-half-I-mean-all-of-your-fucking-food-and-shit.” I tease, thinking it over, trying not to stare at him too much. “This morning maybe...Yeah, I had a piece of toast for breakfast, I think. I’m okay though.”
I force a smile.
He surprises me by reaching out and lifting up one of my arms by the wrist so he can really get a good look at me.
“Okay?” He snaps, cocking his head.“Y/N, you’re way too fucking skinny! Don’t lie to me. You gotta eat.” He insists like I’m a naive kid or something. “You must be starving. You’re practically a motherfucking beanpole for Christ's sake.”
“Am not!” I insist back, trying to pull my arm away from how he’s still holding it up in the air. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. “Maybe you should lay off of Alexandria then if you’re so worried about my health.” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. “We’re practically starving, asshole.”
I figure it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but instead, he tightens his grip around my wrist and pushes me back against the wall roughly with very little effort. I stumble backward.
“Oh, is that what you fucking call me?” He growls down at me cockily and licks his bottom lip, taking a step closer.
And shit, I like that.
“Hmmm,” he teases. “That’s just too fucking bad...Thought you had a different name for me…”
He grins wide like a shark at the look on my face like he fucking knows it, and just for the hell of it, takes my other smaller hand in his own and crosses my wrists above my head, pinning them and holding me down with the weight of his body. He stares at me in a way that makes my legs weak and I gasp softly. I’m vaguely aware that he’s literally so much stronger than me he could snap my neck in half like a twig if he wanted to. He leans a little closer to me, as I struggle half-heartedly, and puts his lips to my ear.
“Nah, you’ll take what I goddamn give you, you little fucking tease,” he breathes, his voice deadly and low. I shiver, my pussy throbbing. He groans softly at the sound I make. “Your skinny little ass doesn’t get to tell me what to do.”
“ Shit ,” I whimper frantically at how he’s touching me, trying to squirm away, exposing my neck to him. The way he sounds makes me so hot. I feel warm and damp between my legs.
He gives me an even cockier amused look and lets me wriggle out of his grasp for about a half a second. And then, just when I think I’m free, he slams my hands back down, this time with only one of his own. He grins. I whimper softly in pain and fear and frustration. I can’t help it. He looks like he’s gonna fucking eat me.
My heart pounds.
“In case you haven’t fucking noticed, I’m the boss around here, babydoll,” he tells me against my throat. I can feel the ghost of his lips smiling against me, sounding very satisfied, his hard-on pressing against me.
I whine in eager surprise as he trails his free hand down the length of my stomach. It tickles and I try not to squirm into the traces of his touch needily as we wrestle.
“Admit it,” he insists, his voice smooth as silk, knowing he owns me right now. He rubs lower, making me buck up against him ever so slightly and let out another desperate whimpering sound. “You fucking love this, don’t you? Or call uncle. Or Daddy.” He smirks. “Your choice, princess...God, you make such pretty noises for me. I goddamn love getting you worked up like this. Gets me so fucking hard, baby girl...”
His voice is straight baritone as his fingers trail even lower, making my stomach flutter. His lips are pressing against my neck, his teeth threatening to bite down, his breath hot. I can feel something big and half-hard poking into my waist. I’m so wet and he hasn’t even really touched me yet! But I can’t let him win this easily — even though every part of my body is telling me to surrender. He’s been holding out on me all day so I figure he should get a taste of his own medicine. I don’t have any free hands, but I do have my feet. So I kick off one of my boots and push my foot up to his cock teasingly. He lets out a soft, surprised, vulnerable moan against me that makes my pussy clench and my heart pound. Jesus.
“How about you call uncle,” I propose, my breath heavy. “Or I’ll kick you in the fucking baby-maker.”
Negan looks down at how I have him stuck and bursts out laughing which starts from a deep rumble in his chest.
“Shit! Well, they can’t say you’re not resourceful,” he smirks, impressed. “You got me by the motherfucking balls, honey. Literally. But you know fucking what? I think I can arrange a compromise.”
And suddenly, he’s smiling like the devil and lifting me up by the underarms in a blur of his muscular limbs and body and throwing me backward onto the bed. I cry out in pleasant surprise as I’m hurled through the air and land on the soft mattress. Shit, he’s strong...
“Asshole!” I grin, looking up at him, not having expected that, propping myself up with my elbows.
"That’s not what you’re going to be calling me when I have my way with you, little lady.” He smiles, pulling off his black leather belt, which makes me very wet and I kick off my other boot in anticipation, as he moves Lucille out of the way and parts my legs.
Negan leans over on the bed and straddles me, a knee trapping each of my sides, and he’s so much bigger and stronger than I am it would be almost scary if I wasn’t so fucking worked up. The bed dips with his added weight. He wastes no time and bends down, going right for my neck and he starts sucking and biting kisses onto my sensitive skin like he’s hungry for me, holding on lightly to the bottom of my throat like a threat. I can’t help but start whimpering a little. My neck is like my weak spot or something and his mouth and teeth and fingers feel so good against my throat I shiver. Instinctively, I reach up and latch my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he growls softly as I feel his hardening cock brushing up against my belly. His warm body moves against mine in a rhythm that has me quaking and moaning.
He reaches to pull off my shirt so I’m just in my bra and I try to help him pull off his white undershirt, but Negan won’t let me and slaps my hand away.
“How do you ask me?” he snarls, pinning me down just below my shoulders as I try to help him, but he doesn’t accept my assistance and forces me down flat onto the mattress.
“Please, Daddy,” I try breathlessly, struggling against him, so wet, grinding my front against his knee that’s holding me down, my eyes big. His dick feels rock solid and twitches. Fuck, that’s hot. The friction feels so good.
“ Fuck,” he whispers hungrily, licking his lips, but he regains his composure. “Nice try, but wrong .” He growls, pushing me down harder, throwing his shirt to the side, his eyes smiling and hungry. “Not when you fucking threaten me, you little goddamn harlot. You earn ‘Daddy.’ For now, you call me ‘sir.’ Is that understood?”
I whimper and nod as his hand slips beneath my pants, way too eager to submit to him.
“Is that understood, Y/N ?”
“Yes, sir.” I whine.
“Good,” he sneers in his deep voice. “Shit, you really fucking like that, don’t you?” He grins, my wetness coating his fingers as he strokes me.
I breathe in deeply and I’m about to reply that ‘yes sir I fucking do’ when suddenly, there’s a knock at the door.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Negan snaps in annoyance, breaking away from me and I whine softly in disappointment. I want him to fuck me so bad. I wanna kiss him again too. “No fucking way. Now what!? Who the fuck is there!?” He shouts toward the hall, making a move for the door, reaching down to adjust himself, and sucking his fingers that are still wet from me. He sighs in a very satisfied manner, and I’m sure I’m even wetter than before. He smiles at my big-eyed expression, my own mouth open in awe, and pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a small pop. That turns me on so much I can only just stare at him. He smirks proudly, winks, and turns to the door. “This had better be good!” he shouts to whoever is outside.
I pull up the covers to my chest, suddenly remembering my nakedness.
“Sorry, boss,” says a nervous, muffled voice from behind the door, redirecting my thoughts. “I just h-have dinner for you and the girl. Dwight said—“
Negan heaves open the door and Fat Joey is standing in the doorway looking pretty terrified, holding a tray of food. Joey is a big guy, yeah, but Negan is pretty tall too and can be terrifying as all hell when he wants to be even if he’s not wearing a shirt. Maybe especially because he’s not wearing a shirt...He’s panting a little and his muscles are flexing as he breathes. Goddamn.
“Ah! Thank you, Fat Joseph,” Negan grins turning to wink at me, his voice a little raspy, his hair sort of pushed floppily to the side. My eyes get stuck on the dusting of dark hair across the planes of his chest and his badass tattoos. Fuck, he looks good. He grabs the tray from Joey’s large hands. “Don’t mind if I fucking do. You know, you sure as hell do have a gift with fucking timing, don’t you, buddy?” he begins intimidatingly, giving him a look up and down and Fat Joey nods a little stupidly, clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Negan leans in toward Joey like he’s gonna tell him a secret. “I mean, I got my girl here, lying down right where I want her and then you come along and spoil all the fun. Now, I know it’s not easy for you to get laid with all this, ” Negan says motioning to Joey’s body. “But Christ, man, that doesn’t mean you have to keep other people from getting laid too. I mean, shit, at this rate I’m gonna have to set you up with fuckin’ Lucille!” He smirks sinisterly like a threat.
Joey is pale as a sheet, but Negan just cracks up, and punches Joey in the shoulder making him flinch.
“Relax, man. Lighten up!” Negan snorts, turning in a lean to give me an exasperated look. “Jesus. I’m just fucking with ya.” Fat Joey forces a weak smile. “Now scram,” Negan says more forcefully.
And with a stammered,
“Y-yes, sir,” Joey high-tails it out as quickly as possible without needing to be told twice.
Negan chuckles pleasantly as he shuts the door, rolling his eyes.
“Dumbass.” He mumbles, shaking his head fondly. “But a loyal dumbass. Oh, shit! Pork chops and mashed potatoes.” He grins, as he looks down to examine the tray. “You like that stuff, baby?”
“Who cares?” I whine a little needily although my stomach growls. “That was mean to scare him anyways. You shoulda just told him to go away. Now, how about you come back over here and fucking finish what you started...”
Negan smiles, his eyebrows going up.
"Needy little thing,” he smirks in approval, licking his lips. “Mean? Trust me when I fucking tell you you ain’t seen nothing yet. And I’m flattered, kid, truly I am that you want me so fucking bad, and you know I get all hot and bothered when you get all assertive like that, it’s goddamn adorable, but you gotta fucking eat first.”
“C-can’t we eat later?” I try a little desperately, still wet between my thighs. “I just want you is all.” But Negan smiles down at me and shakes his head like a pissed-off dad (believe me I know the look), and sets the tray down on the coffee table. “I’m not cute.” I grumble defeatedly. “I’m a badass.”
“It’ll get cold ,” he insists, his eyes narrowing. But then he chuckles. “And you are so fucking cute and a badass. The cutest fucking badass. With a great ass! But don’t make me fucking count. I don’t waste food around here no matter how fucking delicious you end up tasting. And plus, who the fuck am I gonna mess around with if you go wasting away on me? I can count your ribs, baby. Get your fucking priorities straight, will ya?”
He looks down at my bare chest, actually sounding a little concerned.
“I can count your ribs too,” I insist a little petulantly myself, crossing my arms over my chest. “Everyone has twelve on each side. Duh.” But I do like knowing he cares and that he thinks I’m cute so I smile a little.
“Oh really, you little brat?” He smirks a little distractedly, his eyes hovering over my tits. He wets and bites his bottom lip. “And who taught you that?”
I think back.
“A guy named Herschel,” I shrug, getting a little sad. Negan looks up at me curiously and comes to sit next to me. “He was this old dude. The...the widow’s Dad,” I say to clarify.
Negan nods fixedly, not exactly looking me in the eyes. He bites his bottom lip.
“He was a doctor and all,” I continue quietly, letting myself get lost in the memory. “He...he saved Carl when he got shot by accident when Carl was barely twelve. We all thought he was a goner. My dad picked him up off the forest floor and ran damn near a mile to find someone to help. Probably saved his life... ” I trail off. “And that’s how we met the Widow and her family.”
“ Shit . That how Carl lost his eye?” Negan asks quietly, intrigued.
“Nope,” I answer. “If you can believe it. He got away with just a scar from that one. Everyone thought he was dead, but Herschel saved him. Stitched him up real good. That’s when my dad gave him that hat though and he’s worn that every day since,” I try to say as casually as possible like it doesn’t bother me.
“Kid’s a certified badass,” Negan nods, grinning a little, squeezing my arm. “I’ve always said so.”
“I got shot once too, you know,” I tell him quickly, suddenly feeling kind of jealous and a little inadequate. I puff out my chest a little. “On my forearm. See?”
“No shit?” Negan asks in amusement, sounding impressed as I move to show him, his eyebrows going up on his forehead as I show him the circular scar on my left arm.
“That’s fucking gnarly!” Negan says enthusiastically. “That’s cool as shit! Knew I couldn’t be the only one to leave a permanent mark on you.” He says like he’s almost proud of me or something. “Can I touch it?” he asks excitedly, his eyes getting wide.
“Knock yourself out,” I snort as he reaches out to poke the uneven skin interestedly. He looks like an excited little kid. “I used to be ashamed of it, but now I think it’s cool. I’m lucky though. Rick almost made me amputate my whole goddamn arm. Glad I fought with him on that one…” I trail off.
I’m pretty good at killing the mood, I know. I’d almost forgotten about that fight with Rick though...Negan looks concerned now.
“Your dad wanted to chop off your arm?” he asks, sounding genuinely shocked. “Damn. Was it infected or some shit?”
“No,” I shrug. “We were gonna be attacked again any day and I think he thought it would save time to just cut it all off instead of operating haphazardly on my arm back at this prison we were hauled up in at the time. All the other grown-ups were fighting with him about it, saying it was a bad call, and Herschel, who was a doctor, told him that was a stupid idea. But he was pretty out of it. My mom had just died and Judith was just born and he was pissed off as all hell. Especially at me. Luckily, people backed me up and I got operated on and not amputated. I was awake when they did it too and all, but I guess I’d take that over being minus one arm.”
“Shiiit. That’s fucked up, baby girl,” Negan says quietly, his brow furrowed. I think I see anger flash across his features and he looks concerned as he strokes some fingers over my arm distractedly in reassurance. “No wonder you fuckin’ freaked when I threatened to cut off Carl’s…” he mumbles, thinking back.
I lean against him and realize he’s probably right.
“You’re a good big sister,” he tells me, looking me straight in the eye. “Standing up for him like that.”
“Thanks…” I say hesitantly because I’m not sure I agree.
For a minute, it’s quiet between us.
“You really fucking hate him, huh?” Negan asks into the silence. “Rick, I mean?”
“Yeah.” I nod because it’s true.
I don’t even have to think about the answer. Somehow, I feel safer with Negan —fucking Negan — than I do in my own home. And if that’s not fucked up, I don’t know what is. But I still love Rick in some weird, detached, scraping-against-the-inside-of-the-bottom-of-your-stomach kind of way. He is family after all and we’ve been through so much together.
"I understand. I hated my old man too, the prick,” Negan admits, frowning. “That may or may not be why I have a soft spot for badass kids with shitty fathers.” He nudges me with his elbow. “I’ll kill Rick for ya some day if you want,” he nods thoughtfully, elbowing me gently in the ribs. I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Just say the fucking word and I’m on it. That would be the punishment for Rick’s dick behavior if he lived here.”
“He’s my dad,” I snort, turning to stare at Negan incredulously. “Who says I want him dead? And he doesn’t live here.”
“Fine, fine. In a cell, then,” he proposes, waving his hand dismissively like that’s just a minor setback.
“Whatever,” I shrug. “As long as he’s away from me. And for the record,” I tell him, looking up into his light brown eyes, holding onto his hairy forearm so he knows I mean business. “He’s my dad.”
“Yeah, so?” Negan asks curiously, snorting a little in amusement.
“ So,” I continue. “ I would be the one to kill him. Not you. Duh.”
Negan cracks a toothy grin and throws back his head and laughs.
“Of course. I shoulda fucking known. Obviously, ” he snickers. “You are too fucking funny, kid. You little goddamn serial killer.”
I smile.
“What...what did your dad do?” I ask gently, suddenly fascinated.
“Oh, he was a no good, bastard drunk,” Negan grumbles, his jaw clenching, getting quieter. He takes back his hand and his body gets more still. “Knocked around my mom and I. Talk about a fucking low-life son of a bitch with no balls — beating up a lady and a kid. I fucking wish I killed him. Dumbass fucking coward drank himself to death so I never got the fucking chance...” he trails off.
“I’m sorry.” I tell him, snuggling closer to him, breathing in his scent. “I’d kill him with you if he were still around.”
“Sorry, kid,” Negan smirks a little bitterly. “But that is a job reserved for me and my lady Lucille. But hey, let’s eat.” He finally says as my stomach growls, cracking a small grin. “Here. No one's gonna fucking try to cut off any appendages while you're here with me.” He smirks. “Not tonight. I fucking promise.”
***
About an hour later, we’ve both finished eating and the empty plates are stacked on the nightstand. I’m enjoying the movie, but what I’m enjoying more is how fucking safe I feel here with Negan...and a proper meal in my belly.
At home in Alexandria, I never really feel safe. Of course there’s always the looming threat of walkers, but it’s more than that when I’m there. It’s more about my dad being around that always occupies my mind. I’m always waiting for the next landmine to blow and for him to snap on me. Or worrying about Judith and Carl. It feels nice to just chill here, lying against Negan’s broad chest, feeling the rising and falling of his steady breathing. And just doing something as simple as watching a movie. I don’t feel scared at all. How fucking nice and completely absurd.
Suddenly, Negan shifts his position ever so slightly to wrap his big arm around me and hold me closer, but in doing so, he shifts some weight against my stomach where a purple bruise has formed. It catches me off guard so I hiss softly in pain.
“What’s the matter?” Negan stammers softly in alarm, rubbing one of his eyes. “Did I hurt you, angel?”
Angel . What a fucking sap. He’ll kill me if he keeps talking to me like that. My heart can hardly take it.
“No, no, you didn’t do anything. I’m just sore is all. I just have a bruise. It’s fine.” I grimace and shift my weight to a more comfortable position, trying to reassure him and snuggle myself against him a little more, hoping he doesn’t move away.
“I got you this if you want it,” he says, grabbing the mysterious bottle from the doctor off the nightstand. “It’s for bruises and shit. To make ‘em hurt less and heal quicker…” He trails off, opening the bottle. He squirts some of the cream into his big hand and begins rubbing it and applying it to my arm where Rick grabbed me. “Figured you might need it…”
“Oh,” I say quietly, genuinely surprised, looking up at him. “Oh, shit. Thanks, Negan.”
“Don’t fucking mention it, kid. I don’t like seeing you all...raw and sore like that,” he says quietly, shrugging, not quite making eye contact with me, anger flashing across his features, his jaw clenching, but he calms it away. “Tell me to fuck off if I’m going too hard, alright?”
I nod. But he’s not at all. He’s being so fucking gentle. His hands feel so good moving against my skin. It’s like the exact opposite of how the bruise got there in the first place and how I’ve seen Negan bash people’s brains in...Something about that makes my skin tingle. He moves to my stomach.
“If I’m ever going too hard,” he tells me quietly, massaging my tummy. “In anything we’re doing, you’d fucking tell me wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You know I’d never fucking try to hurt you in a way you didn’t want...”
“Yeah, of fucking course,” I tell him in a lazy kind of awe at how good he feels touching me. “I believe you. Negan,” I say after a moment, sitting up a little. “But you know I’m not a pussy, right?”
Negan snorts and bursts out laughing, eyeing me like I am too funny.
“Do you really think I think that about you?” he snickers, looking genuinely surprised and curious. “Why? Cause you’re letting me put lotion on you? ‘Cause I asked you if you were okay? Cause we had a little goddamn heart-to-heart?”
I shrug. I guess I’m just used to constantly having to prove myself to get taken seriously and, to be fair, Negan does seem like the kinda guy who would make fun of doing lovey-dovey things like we’re doing now.
“Shit, if it makes anyone seem like a pussy it’s probably me,” he chuckles, shaking his head a little. “Don’t you know that? I put this shit on too sometimes, you know...Here, help me.” He says, his eyes lighting up like he’s gotten a good idea. “Put some on my back. I got hit with a two-by-four the other day, the fucking prick. There. That make you feel any better?”
I shrug again and nod a little and he smiles. I take the lotion from him and squirt some on my hands. It smells like vanilla. He’s being so nice and gentle with me I don’t wanna ruin it, so I start rubbing it into a brown bruise on the left side of his back. He leans against me and breathes out deep and slow.
“Ahhh. That’s it, baby,” He tells me, relaxing. “Shit, right there! How did ya get so good at this? You could have been a goddamn massage therapist!”
“Shut up,” I snort.
***
Another hour goes by and I feel myself nodding off in the crook of Negan’s arm against his warm body as the glare from the TV bathes us in flickering light. I don’t mean to fall asleep, it just happens. It feels so nice to be comfortable and cozy and full...I think I feel someone kiss the top of my head and stroke my hair gingerly, but I can’t be sure...if it’s really happening though, it feels so goddamn nice...
***
The next thing I know I hear the T.V. click off and Negan come and sit back against me and shift us both into a lying down position. I can feel his dick getting hard against the curve of my ass so instinctively I roll over and reach down to stroke it over the fabric of his boxers enthusiastically, yawning sleepily. He groans against my ear, but then he shifts his body into my palm and realizes what I’m doing and he moves my hand away.
“Nah, go to sleep, kid,” he says softly, fondly in his deep, gravelly voice, rough from sleepiness. I can hear the smile in his words that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. “‘M tired as hell. Go back to bed. Go on…”
“But I wanna make you feel good,” I mumble sleepily, rubbing my eyes. “Wanna see your cock, Daddy,” I whisper.
" Shit ,” He breathes, sounding more awake. I can feel him get harder against me. “Somebody’s eager. And that’s sweet. I appreciate it, darlin’, I do, but tomorrow,” he decides. He shakes his head and chuckles. “God aren’t you a freak? Trust me when I tell you you’ll wanna see what I’m packing in the light of day.”
“Please, Daddy?” I ask softly, barely able to keep my eyes open, moving my body against him ever so slightly, folding myself further into his grasp. I don’t doubt him, but his cock feels good pressed up against me. He feels so big and warm. “Want you.”
“ Fuck ,” he curses softly, his fat dick prodding my ass now fully and I can tell it’s taking some self-control to keep on resisting. “N-No. Not tonight, baby. Don’t be a fucking brat. We gotta get some shut-eye. You’re practically dead.” I can hear him trying to reason with himself, yawning. “I got a goddamn empire to run in the morning. You’re not that special” he smirks.
“O-Oh, okay. It’s just… I want you is all,” I repeat pathetically, basically back asleep, turning to bury my face in his chest. For a little while it’s quiet as he strokes my hair. “You’re so hot…” I mumble.
He snorts.
“You make me feel safe…”
Just as I start to lose consciousness I hear him say in a sleepy voice:
“Want you too, Y/N...” he says so quietly I almost miss it. He chuckles softly. “But we have all the time in the world, kiddo. Want you to be awake ‘n all…” He pauses and shakes his head. He yawns again. “You need some fucking rest. Want me ? You already have me. Wrapped. Don’t you get it, you little shit?” He murmurs fondly into my hair.
“A’right,” I give in, exhaustedly, fading, reaching for his muscular arm that’s already cradled around me with how he’s holding me —even though I’m not sure I do get it. He grins; I feel it against my forehead. So I snuggle in closer, tighter, feeling so fucking safe and protected I hardly care. “O-okay, asshole. Good night, Negan.”
A/n: Feedback please or just leave a kudos if you enjoyed!!!!!! Chapter 5 will be coming soon but I have to finish writing it and know that people actually want me to post it.
Chapter 3 // Chapter 5
Masterlist
#negan x you#negan#my fic#negan smith#negan smut#negan x reader#negan x oc#negan smith x you#negan/you#negan/reader#negan fanfiction#negan fanfic#the walking dead#twd#rick grimes#domestic violence mention#fat joey#fanfiction#ao3
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TWD destinies is an absolute disaster and I feel bad for those who wasted money on it but i just saw a clip of Rick Grimes taking 8 consecutive shotgun blasts to the head before he did a barrel roll and kept fighting and honestly?? Nothing is funnier so maybe the TWD community won after all
#violence tw//#I guess#Rick grimes#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead destinies#can u tell I’m a scorned ex AMC TWD fan#I’m a hater first and foremost
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For Josephine. For all of them.
#maggie rhee#maggie greene#I'm 100% with her on this#I also love this whole scene#the way its shot#the music#all of it#slay queen#the walking dead#tw: blood#tw: violence#twd season 11#lauren cohan
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Say A Prayer (The Walking Dead x PlatonicGN!Reader)
You fulfill a reckless promise you had made to Glenn years ago, at a high cost.
TW: descriptions of blood and a lot of gore, heavy angst
When you had saved Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury, the physical and psychological scars detailing their experiences, you made a vow. Glenn was your best friend, Maggie the closest thing you had ever had to a sister. You should have been there. You should have protected them. This had been one of the first real glimpses you had seen of the cruelty that festered amongst survivors.
You wanted it to be the last.
As you sat by Glenn's bunk, him whispering the details of what happened, his voice breaking. You only listened to his story, holding his hands tight within your own. With each hitch of his breath, your thumb brushed his skin. His tale was long and filled with such horrors your blood was boiling, all you wanted to do was sprint towards Woodbury and burn the whole community with the power of your rage.
But the damage had already been done.
"Glenn," you breathed, shaking your head. "This shouldn't have happened, I'm so sorry."
Glenn didn't utter a sound. His silence nearly broke you. You squeezed his hand, forcing him to look up at you. "People are dangerous. I hate it but I don't think this is the last time we'll be dealing with this kind of shit. Next time this happens, I'll buy you time to escape."
Glenn's brows furrowed, he spoke your name to try and stop your flow of speech but now that you had started, you couldn't stop.
"Look, if we're ever in some deep shit with bad people, I'll say a prayer. You get ready to grab Maggie and run, because when I sign the cross on my chest, that's the signal, okay?"
"I don't want you to -"
You silenced him immediately. "Glenn, this group needs you, Maggie needs you, I need you. Just, please, I hope we never have to use this but we need a plan."
"They could hurt you."
You shrugged. "I fought fires for a living. I'm sure I can take on some assholes."
Glenn sighed, wincing slightly. The sight of that wince solidified your resolve - Glenn must have sensed this, shaking his head in defeat. "Fine, but only in emergencies. Like end of the world emergencies."
~
The moment you saw the saviours, you knew it was an end of world emergency. You knew it the moment they forced you out of the van, pushing you to your knees next to Abraham, and spotted the sheer number of soldiers circling you.
You were all royally fucked.
Your heart thundered in your chest. You tried to sneak a glance at Glenn across from you, his full attention on Maggie who looked to be growing paler by the second. This was bad, this was so fucking bad.
You searched your mind for a solution, for a way to escape. Your firefighter training never taught you how to deal with this kind of scenario, or anything remotely close. Sweat prickled on your palms, and you felt like a clock was counting down how many minutes you had left in this world.
You couldn't focus, couldn't hear anything. You barely registered a tall, ominous figure leaving the caravan, a bat slung on his shoulder. His mouth was moving, but all you heard was white noise. All you caught was his name, Negan.
If I can save Glenn and Maggie, I can save two people here... Maybe it will give others the chance to get the upper hand.
The blade you'd hidden in your jacket's inside pocket felt like a weight. When the goons had patted you down, a small decoy knife in the outside pocket to your hidden one had been confiscated. But not your hidden blade.
If you could just get a chance, the perfect opportunity. You could drive the blade deep into the man's chest, slice it across his neck, lodge it into his temple. His goons would surge forward to attack you, taking their attention from the group. Glenn and Maggie would already be moving, and the remainder of the group would scramble to get the upper hand.
They would win. They could take down these men and take Maggie to a doctor, to get to safety. They had defeated the Governor, they had survived the fall of the prison, they had survived Terminus, they could survive this.
They had to.
You saw Negan strolling towards you, tilting his head inquisitively. His bat dragged along the ground, drawing your attention to the barbed wire wrapped delicately around the wood. Impulsively, you gulped. That seemed to appease him. He wanted to see your fear.
Static crackled in your ears as he started to thrust Lucille around the circle, into the faces of your friends. It moved in a sort of dance, and you dreaded to see what the crescendo would bring.
The bare bones of a plan had formed in your head - you had to do this. For Glenn. For Maggie. For the group.
"Forgive me god, for I have sinned." You muttered loud enough for him to hear, forcing your head downwards in the closest thing to a prayer you could muster. You saw Negan's bat lull, frozen, as his attention spun to you.
"Give me mercy and show me-"
"What the fuck you muttering?" Negan stopped short, spinning towards you. He used Lucille to tilt your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes. What he didn't expect to see was stone.
"I was saying a prayer, sir." You looked up at Negan, tossing a glance to Glenn across the circle. His eyes widened slightly. He inclined his head to the left, and you could tell he was begging you to stop what you were doing.
"Don't worry," Negan laughed darkly, almost mocking you. "No god can save you now."
"I wasn't asking for my survival." You looked at him from under your lashes, the fury in your veins radiating from you. Your hands had tightened into fists, only to quell the shaking threatening to consume your body. "I was praying that they would strike you down."
Negan blinked. He unleashed a deep belly laugh, shaking his head. "Wow, this one's got some fire. You want to be careful, sweetheart, you don't want to burn."
You didn't respond, keeping your steely gaze on him. You could feel all the group holding their breath, waiting for Negan to react, to end your life. Negan paused for a beat, as if deliberating it, then flashed you a smile. It reminded you of a wolf, and you were a rabbit.
"Well damn, your bat shit rambling made me lose count. Let's start again." Negan turned his back to you, preparing to start his taunting.
You signed the cross on your chest, not for your salvation. But as your signal. As you completed your movement, you slowly crept your hand into the inside pocket of your jacket, pocketing the switchblade.
Your heart threatened to crash through your ribs - you pushed past it, tightening your grip on the handle. You threw yourself forwards, not having moved more than two footsteps before you were tackled to the ground. You collided harshly with the ground, grunting loudly. Pain spread across your cheek, gravel biting into your skin. Your hands were forced behind your back, a knee pinning you in place. They pried your fingers loose, stealing your only chance of escape out of your hand.
"Now what's this shit?" Negan knelt so he was at your level, tapping your shoulder with the bat. You still had to look up at him, you were certain it was to remind you who was in control. "You trying to be a massive noble pain in my ass?"
"Go!" You screamed, almost begging. No one had moved a single inch, all frozen in place watching the events unfold before them. You could hear the soft cries of Maggie and others.
"Run!" You begged again, desperation oozing out of your voice. You tried to roll out from the person holding you down, only to hiss in pain when their knee pressed down harder.
With a dawning horror, you realised you had signed your own death certificate. You couldn't even get in reach of the man. You let Glenn down, you broke the promise you had made. You couldn't provide a good enough distraction to save them all. Now the fear you had back then was becoming a reality.
"I'll be kind - I haven't explained the house rules, so I can let this slide." He turned to look at every member making up the circle, being sure to look them all in the eyes. "But the next time someone pulls this shit? You'll regret it. I don't know what kind of liars you've encountered, but I'm a man of my word."
At this range you could see the dried blood embedded into the wood of Lucille. Red flashed across your vision. This was the weapon of your group's destruction. You felt powerless, a gut punching defeat rushing over you.
You looked up at the man who held all the strings. If you thought the Governor was bad, or the Termites, you were wrong. You had encountered a new kind of evil. A steely resolve settled within you.
If you were going to die tonight, you were going to die defiant.
You showed him exactly what you thought of him as you spat at his face.
A deep satisfaction as the saliva reached its target.
Negan stilled. He cocked his head at you, wiping the spit from his cheek. He examined the wet, slowly dragging his gaze back to yours. You felt your stomach plummet. Determination could only do so much to quench fear.
"I pardon you, and you have the fucking audacity to disrespect me in front of my men?" Negan brought himself upright, indicating his men drag you up too. You were hauled harshly to your feet.
"I'm not in the mood to dirty up my girl so soon, so how about you get a taste of your own medicine?" One of Negan's men passed something to him, and your heart stopped in your chest.
It was your switchblade.
Negan flipped it open, the blade glistening. Subconsciously, you gulped. "You thought you could take down my empire, with this fucking needle?"
Pleas and cries overtook your senses. They all melded into one twisted harmony. This was your death song.
"Everyone watch - I want you to remember that your actions have some pretty big fucking consequences."
You braced yourself. You expected him to lodge the knife in your brain, swipe it across your neck and spin you around so your blood sprayed on your family. What you didn't expect was for him to jab it deep into your stomach. In a twisted way, it felt almost intimate, his hand on your shoulder, his face so close to yours, a demented smirk marking his lips.
Your mouth parted in surprise.
"See you in hell." You spat.
"We're already there, sweetheart." He pushed the blade in deeper, robbing you of breath. You tried not to focus on the sudden agony radiating from your stomach, or the gushing red.
You heard Glenn cry out, shouting your name. You couldn't look at him, you had failed, you couldn't save him again. Maggie was sobbing, getting sicker by the second. You hadn't even been able to help them get away.
A beat passed, then two. Negan's smirk became more demented as he dragged the blade through your stomach. This time you couldn't help but cry out as you felt yourself almost being split in two.
Screams hit your eardrums. You felt as if you were underwater, everything moving in slow motion.
You couldn't breathe, the agony stripping you of the ability. Blood instantly poured. You scrambled to staunch it, the saviours pulling your hands back. They wanted you to bleed out.
Negan retracted the blade, red up until the hilt.
You fell to your knees. You thudded to the floor.
"Make sure they have a good seat. I don't want them to miss the show."
The pinch of gravel didn't even register as the saviours dragged your limp body back to the line up, a stark streak of red following behind. Abraham watched with eyes wide as the saviours yanked you upright, ignorant to the outright shriek of agony that ripped from you, forcing you onto your knees.
You could feel yourself drooping forwards - until a saviour roughly grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your head up.
Everything after that passed in a blur. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss, the fact that you were certain your internal organs were threatening to slip through the slice deep in your stomach, or the sheer trauma of it all made you numb.
You barely flinched when Abraham's blood speckled your cheek.
You only released the smallest whimper upon seeing Glenn slumping forwards, his eye grotesquely popping out.
You didn't even look as Carl was at the mercy of Rick, an axe ghosting his arm.
You watched numbly, watching it all fall apart until eventually, you felt nothing at all.
the walking dead masterlist
#tw: death#tw: gore#tw: violence#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fanfic#twd x reader#twd angst#the walking dead angst#twd fanfic#twd fanfiction#twd#twd x you#twd x y/n#the walking dead#the walking dead x gender neutral reader#twd x gender neutral reader#twd x gn!reader#the walking dead x gn!reader#the walking dead x gnreader#twd x gnreader
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love watching my fictional blorbos get violent because there is something wrong with my brain :3
#violence#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#twd#the walking dead#shit what other fandoms am i in#creepypasta
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Whumptober 2023
No. 15 “I’m fine.” | No. 17 “Leave me alone.”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (platonic, pre-relationship)
Setting: Post Prison/Pre Alexandria
Warnings: Animal bite, Injury, Illness, TWD Violence
“Thanks,” you muttered while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You extended the bottle out to Glenn but he shook his head.
“Try to get Daryl to drink when he gets back.” You cast him a curious look but he only smiled and shuffled forward to catch up with Maggie.
The sun was beating down violently on your little group, no reprieve from the clutches of its heat. Just like yesterday. Just like the day before. The bushes rustled to your left, but you were too weary to be afraid. You simply rolled your head toward the sound and watched Daryl emerge from the foliage. You gave him a quick once over as he fell in stride beside you but saw no injuries and also no kill to call dinner.
“You okay?” You offered the water bottle, but he pushed it back to you.
“M’fine.”
“I haven’t seen you take a single sip in two days, Daryl.” You were trying to scold but your voice only sounded dry and tired.
“You need it. Lil Asskicker needs it.” Right on cue, the baby on Carl’s back began to fuss. You glanced behind you where Sasha and Michonne were bringing up the rear. The group of walkers were still a ways back but if you stopped, it wouldn’t take them long to catch up.
Your attention was brought back to Daryl when he stumbled, hissing through his teeth before getting his balance. You said nothing but watched him carefully. He was slightly favoring his right leg. While you could see no blood, you did notice that the red rag that usually hung from his back pocket was wrapped around his shin, just above his boot.
“Daryl.” You called to him carefully when he looked up from his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He grunted in reply, and his gaze dropped again. “Are you hurt?” He grunted again. “That’s not an answer.”
“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” The archer looked over at you, one eye closed and the other squinted. “Ain’t a big deal.”
Before you could press him on it, Rick called out for everyone to stop at a bridge. It was time to handle the walkers.
It didn’t take long. Not a single person was injured and you were back on the road. Daryl was in front of you now, and you were watching him like a hawk. Other than a slight limp, he seemed okay. No better or worse than anyone else right now.
The group had stopped to rest once the scorching sun had lowered, and Daryl had disappeared to hunt. With a nod to Carol, you ducked away past the bushes to join him. You weren’t great at tracking but he hadn’t been gone long and you had learned a thing or two from him.
It didn’t take you long to spot him. There was a small cabin that looked like it had been abandoned since before the dead rose. Daryl was standing next to a tree close to the structure, leaning his shoulder against it. You smiled, and quickened your pace until you noticed his crossbow was on the ground at his feet. His right boot wasn’t touching the ground, and he was bent at the waist with his eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched.
“Daryl?” You called out but he didn’t respond. He was sweating and pale, and as you neared, the smell of sick lingered in the air. “Hey, are you okay?” You placed your hand on his bicep once you were close enough. The archer reacted violently, catching your wrist and slamming your back against the tree with his hunting knife at your throat. Had he really not heard you approaching? His breaths came hard and fast. Those pretty blue eyes of his were filled with pain and anger. “It’s me, Daryl.”
You watched recognition set in, and he released you with a huff. “The hell ya followin’ me fer?” You let your gaze follow him as he replaced his knife and reached for the crossbow. On the ground, near the weapon, was a puddle of vomit. Your eyes narrowed.
“Daryl, what’s wrong with you?” You pushed away from the tree and jogged to cut him off. “Really.”
“Leave me ‘lone!” He made to go around you, but you moved to stay in his path.
“You sick?” He tried the other way with the same results. “Hurt?” He growled deep in his throat, closing his eyes in what appeared to be restraint. You weren’t sure that was really the case.
“Jus’ lay off, would ya?” He snapped harshly. You reeled, face contorting in anger, but just as you opened your mouth, Daryl’s eyes widened. He listed to the side, crashing hard onto his left knee and began to retch violently. With nothing in his stomach, he only managed to bring up a small amount of bile throughout the ordeal.
“Daryl!” You grabbed hold of his shoulders just in time to stop him from keeling over into the mess. Falling back onto your ass, you managed to pull the man up against your stomach. He was panting with his eyes screwed shut. “Daryl, what’s going on? The truth.”
It took a moment but the archer finally managed to open one eye and seemed to study you before you felt him simply deflate in your hold. “Snake bit.” You quickly glanced at that old rag around his lower leg.
“You moron, that’s serious! You could die!” Your hand connected roughly with the front of his shoulder but then held him fast where he was when he tried to struggle away.
“Ain’t gon’ die. S’jus’ a copperhead.” He tried to sit up again and this time you let him. He nodded gratefully once he was shoulder to shoulder with you. “Got bit ‘fore, when I’s ‘bout 10. It won’ kill me but it’ll suck fer a day or two.”
You stared at him, not sure what you were feeling. You were angry that he had hidden this from the group, from you. You were worried that he was or would become dehydrated or the wound would be infected, both were very likely and equally as dangerous. You were sad that he would rather suffer alone than worry anyone even when he was in such a state.
“Quit starin’ at me like tha’. Told ya, I’ll be fine.”
You nodded, looking down at your boots. You had to think of something. Daryl simply couldn’t keep going like this, disappearing ‘in search of water and food’ when he really just needed a break. You glanced at him again, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted toward the sky. His expression was riddled with pain, even though he was trying not to show it. You knew better.
Over his shoulder, you saw the little cabin. It wasn’t the ideal solution but maybe one you could make work. “You cleared that yet?”
Daryl followed your gaze and shook his head. “Nah. Didn’ have a chance ‘fore my stomach crawled outta my throat.”
“Wait here.”
“The hell ya doin’, Y/N?”
You pulled your knife from the sheath on your thigh and marched toward the structure. “Solving a couple of problems.”
The cabin had been blessedly void of walkers. It was small but large enough to shelter your family from the sun for at least a day or two. It was easy enough to talk Rick into stopping the fruitless march toward nothing. At least the group could stay put while you took care of Daryl, under the guise of being out for the night to hunt.
He had been surprisingly pliant when you dragged him away. Finding a spot to camp for the night was simple. Far enough away for members not to venture in search of you, yet close enough to run for help if things got worse. You had taken all of the water that could be spared, leaving enough for the proper care of Judith and Carl. You hated leaving so little for the adults, but Daryl would surely die without it, closer than anyone to dehydration with the excess sweating and vomiting.
You sat next to his outstretched leg, carefully pouring the smallest amount of water over the two punctures he had finally let you take a look at. Just to the right of his shin, the wound was swollen and angry, more in thanks to the venom than to infection. If you could manage to keep it clean, you could probably avoid that.
You taped a square of gauze over the bite, thankful that you had at least that in your own bag. Keeping it covered was best for the time being. It could get air when the venom wasn’t doing a number on the archer.
You worried about tissue damage, but that was a bridge you’d have to cross when you came to it. For now, keeping him alive was the most important thing.
“Drink.” You titled the canteen against his lips, holding fast to his chin with the other hand when he tried to turn away.
“The kid—”
“Has enough. I promise. I wouldn’t have taken it if it meant she or Carl had to do without.” He seemed to accept that, parting his lips for the smallest of swallows. You wished you had more and didn’t have to be so greedy with each offering. He had taken the ibuprofen you had managed to nab out of Michonne’s bag. That should provide a bit of relief from the pain while aiding in the reduction of the inflammation. It wasn’t much but it would have to do.
“You should get some rest.” You placed your back against the tree, shoulder to shoulder with him. He didn’t look very comfortable but it wasn’t unlike Daryl to sleep sitting up. Sometimes, you think he preferred it. Regardless, he was sick and in pain, so you tried to make him as comfortable as possible. “Why don’t you lay on my lap?”
Daryl opened one eye and rolled his head toward you, blinking away the sweat that burned and obstructed his vision. You thought he might argue or turn you down flat, but he instead shifted with a groan and pillowed his head on your thighs. A true testament to how horrible he was feeling.
“Better?” You questioned quietly, running your fingers through his damp hair. He hummed, his eyes once again closed. You could see the way they pinched at the outer corners and wished you could do something more for the pain. He’d been bitten while trying to find food and water for your group; trying to take care of everyone else. Always putting himself last.
There was a content sigh that brought you from your thoughts. You hadn’t realized that you had begun to scratch and knead his scalp, but the way he seemed to melt against you ensured that you continued. His shallow breaths evened out and deepened after a few more moments, an indicator that he was finally giving his body the rest it so desperately needed.
He would be okay. You knew that now. But if you could offer him some comfort and peace for just one night, you’d massage his scalp until your fingers bled. Daryl, rough around the edges and tough as nails, would bend over backwards to ensure the safety of each one of you. Anyone in the group would do the same for him if he’d allow it. But he didn’t. He chose to suffer in silence until you stumbled across him and forced his hand.
But he’d allowed you into his space and trusted you enough to fall into a deep, healing sleep while you watched over him. He would be safe and cared for, and you’d make sure he knew that he could depend on this— on you — and drop his walls. He could let you in and be vulnerable.
You’d be damned if you’d take that for granted.
#whumptober2023#no.15#no.17#“i’m fine”#“leave me alone”#the walking dead#fic#animal bite#illness#injury#implied violence#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon the walking dead#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagines#daryl TWD#twd daryl dixon
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#is rick punching aaron a hate crime or is it just gay on gay violence?#its gay on gay violence#twd meme#rick grimes
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thinking about negans first deadly interaction with a walker..
he was outside their home trying to get the generator up and running after the power went out, and a walker grabs him from behind while lucille was keeping watch. while it's trying to bite his arms and neck lucille rushes up behind it and whacks it in the head with a frying pan and she's so spooked she keeps hitting it when it's down. negan has to drag her away and comfort her, trying to wipe the blood off of her face while she's hyperventilating.
when they get back inside she's convinced that she just killed a person and negan thinks that she did aswell... but he doesn't say it and instead he tries to make her feel better by saying that they were sick and violent and she did the right thing.
Thinking about a conversation a few days after this where she’s like "I fucked up. You either hate me or you should." And he’s so dead serious about "No I could never, you Did The Right Thing"
and now thinking about an au where she lived but they got separated, and they're together again for the first time in months/years and she starts seeing through the cracks how deranged he is and remembers that conversation...And feels sick about it..
#SHE THINKS SHE STARTED SOMETHING IN HIM#SOMEONE WHO WIELDS A WEAPON NAMED AFTER YOU#WHO KILLS IN YOUR NAME#tfw you've been turned into a martyr to incite violence and fear :(#anyway uhhh sorry if this doesn't make sense i never try to share my headcanons or thoughts anywhere that isn't in a discord conversation#lucille smith#negan#twd#the walking dead#lucille twd#weird rambling
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One more chapter. Thanks for rebloging, reading and commenting.
I'm really glad you all like it!
Enjoy the chapter!
*************************
Our Story.
Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.
Part 12.
Masterlist.
Warnings: Slow burn. TWD violence. Death. Angst. Little drama. Hurt/Comfort.
Words: 3400.
Summary: the Governor attacks the prison, you all try to resist, Merle is dead and new people is coming to your home.
**********************
Chapter 12. Come back home.
"No, no, I said get out." You say when you see Daryl appear by the infirmary, where you've been hiding to try to calm down.
"Ain't gonna go anywhere."
"Of course not. Is this another one of your promises?" You ask acidly and he chews his lip.
"I know I shouldn't have left with Merle...I've gone back to doing the same thing I did a few years ago and..."
"I don't give a shit, Daryl, I'm not going to care about you, not anymore."
"Listen to me..."
"No, you listen to me." You cut him off again. "We're going to hang in here, because it's our place, because we've made it our home, but it's big enough that we don't need to address each other, so don't try." You make it clear to him. "Let alone having your brother here." Your voice shakes a little and you swallow trying to compose yourself. "I thought you were back to your old self... but you were right, that time when I came looking for you at your house... you've always been like that, haven't you? You've always been Merle Dixon's fucking shadow..." You shrug because he doesn't know how to respond to that, no doubt your words have hurt him more than he expected.
You throat clear and turn around to take a tally of what you still have, it's not much, in a little while you'll have to go out for new supplies.
"Sorry." He grunts again. "That's all I can say; Merle is my brother and I know he ain't the most desirable person in the world, but I changed, I'm sure he can too if given a chance." He doesn't wait for your response, he turns and walks away from the infirmary, leaving you alone.
Living together becomes complicated, Merle is still pulling a tight rope, only Daryl is calm having him there, Tyreese and Sasha have left with their group, worried about Rick's lucidity at these moments. Woodbury has gone after you guys, head on, with that huge truck full of infected, making it clear he wants you out of there, but Rick isn't going to leave that place at his mercy, he's going to fight for it and so are you.
"I'll talk to him, we'll meet, we'll put our proposals on the table and we'll see how it all works out..."
"He's not going to give up." Merle says. "He'll put on a good face and everything will look perfect, but he'll come back, and slaughter you all, they have more guns, more ammunition, you're no match."
"He won't have it so easy, if we're not going to leave here, we'll protect their walls." You say and hear how the man laughs.
"Yeah? And how do you intend to do that, beautiful?"
"You're both right, I'll go up there with some of you and the rest of you will stay here getting everything ready." Rick continues speaking.
"Well, in that case let's stick to the plan."
**************
"So you're my sister-in-law." You hear a voice behind you and you get goose bumps.
You turn slowly, behind you, leaning against the doorframe of the library, where you spend your free time consulting the medical books there, but now you're helping to pull out the tables there to reinforce the prison security, making little barricades to hide in for when the Governor and his people return.
"I'm nothing to you, Merle." You make it clear to him by shuffling the table.
"That's not true, if your sister is my brother's wife, then that makes us family." He keeps talking. "Oh no, wait, that your sister is dead...so you're my half sister-in-law?" There's acid in his voice again and you abruptly let go of the table.
"What do you want, Merle? I don't have time for you."
"Fine, I won't beat around the bush." He advances toward you, you fold your arms, defensively. "I remember you, you know, I may look like an idiot, but I'm not that much of one. You've always been after your sister and Daryl, like a little puppy looking for company, always there wanting their attention." He goes on. "Now you've got him back to yourself, don't you? It's just you now."
"What are you talking about?" you frown. "She was my sister and Daryl was my best friend, I didn't..."
"Don't play that card with me, precious, we both know you liked my brother too, that's why you were always after them."
"Of course I wasn't! I didn't feel that way about Daryl!"
"Come on, honey, you can tell me."
"I don't have anything to tell you! Daryl was my best friend, of course I loved him, but as a friend, but you corrupted him, rotted him from the inside because that's what Merle Dixon does, he destroys everything he touches!"
"Get used to the idea that it's a Dixon curse." He replies to you without taking offense.
You don't want to listen to him anymore, you stop what you're doing and walk away leaving him alone. Merle smiles crookedly now having the way clear all he has to do is go find Michonne to continue with his plan.
****************
Daryl is nervous, he has had a confusing conversation with his brother, he is not sure if he is with them or if he will leave as soon as he has the opportunity, it has always been complicated for him to read his brother's intentions.
But he just can't find him anywhere.
"Fuck, Merle." He growls at nothing.
"Where's your brother?"
Daryl turns to look at you, you're carrying your bow with you, in fact you're also carrying your knife and gun, you look like you're going out somewhere, what surprises him the most is that you're talking to him, after the argument you'd had he thought you'd never do it again.
"Dunno, I was lookin' for him, but... I think he took off."
"Not just him... Michonne's gone too." You tell him and he becomes alert.
"Do ya think he took her to the Governor?"
"To save his ass? It's possible." You shrug and he snorts.
"I'm gonna look for him. Can ya cover for me? I don't wanna anyone following me."
"You keep picking him..."
"That's not the point. That asshole is capable of killing himself doing something crazy. I'm not just going after him, I'm also going after Michonne."
"Okay, then I'm coming with you. For Michonne."
Daryl doesn't insist, you've been the one who said you didn't want anything to do with him, that you've now decided to go with him is a step, he knows you're still angry but at least you're with him. He will accept whatever you offer him. You grab your weapons and leave the prison without attracting the attention of the rest of the group. Quickly Daryl sets about tracking Merle with no problems, they have taken a car near the prison, but the marks he leaves on the bed of dead leaves is obvious, even you could track him without any problems.
"What do you think Merle wants to do with Michonne?" You speak after walking more than half the way in silence.
"I thought ya didn't wanna hear from me anymore."
"Okay." You shrug as you continue walking.
"I think Merle is trying to lead Michonne to the Governor..." He shrugs as you do. "I think he's trying to prevent a prison massacre."
"Why, no one's asked him to."
"He knows no one is very fond of him in prison, he does what he thinks is right. If something happens to him, no one will care about him..." He mutters without stopping walking.
"You do..." You look sideways at him.
"He's my brother, but my whole life he's been coming and going from my life, you know that better than anyone." He snorts shaking his head. "Still I can't abandon him to his fate." He gives you a sidelong glance. "I'm sorry..."
"You're a good person, Daryl. That's why you do those things." You try to ignore the pull in your stomach.
Your weak spot was that you could never stay mad at him for too long.
You hear footsteps nearby, you become alert and saw Michonne approaching towards your position, when she sees you she looks relieved and picks up her pace, you don't know each other too well but you can't help but give her a hug, glad she's okay.
"Where's Merle?" Daryl asks after seeing that she's okay.
"He's gone to see the Governor by himself." She mumbles. "He wanted to make a trade with me, like I had asked Rick to do, but he let go of me and went off by himself."
"Stupid lunatic." Daryl growls. "You take Michonne to the prison, I'm going to go get him."
"You're going by yourself? what if the Governor has captured him or worse?"
"I'll take care of that, you guys get to safety."
You stay silent, Michonne also seems hesitant to want to leave, but Daryl doesn't wait, he just starts walking holding his crossbow tightly against his chest. You two look at each other and start walking in the opposite direction.
"Why did he let you leave?" You want to know again.
"We were talking in the car, Daryl now has a new family, Merle is just a stone in the road, Daryl will move on, but he's stuck in his own emptiness..." she shrugs as she walks beside you.
"I guess he's trying to make things right for the first time..." You try to understand, she nods, but she doesn't look convinced either.
"Sacrificing yourself is not doing the right thing, Daryl will suffer for it."
Daryl will suffer for it.
Those words fall on you like a slab, they make you think about how long that man has been suffering, since you met, barely thirteen you, fifteen him, Dixon was happy and unhappy at the same time, you could see him when you were in the secret place, when he had your sister in his arms, smoking, just talking, you could also see him happy and calmer when he was talking to you, when the bond between the three of you was getting stronger, but then it was time to go back home, to separate until the next day and he would become silent again, his eyes would lose their sparkle and he would even tremble a little if you looked closely.
How much more did he deserve to suffer?
You stop then and look at the woman with the katana who looks confused, but immediately understands what you intend to do.
"Bring them back to the prison, back home, I'm sure we'll find a way to make it all right." She asks you and you nod before turning around and running off in search of Daryl.
****************
But you're late, as you approach the meeting place, where Rick had planned to deliver Michonne, you hear the gunshots and screams in the distance, you don't know what strategy he has followed, if he has prepared an ambush for them or he has entered there shooting left and right.
It doesn't matter, the point is that he has driven the Governor's group out of there, but Merle doesn't leave. When you arrive, panting and sweating from the run, you see Daryl on the ground, succumbed by his own pain, not far from him, Merle's body. He had turned, not only had Governor not only killed him, he had let him turn so that you could find him, so that Daryl would have to kill him himself. It's twisted and cruel. Merle will never be your favorite person, but even for you that's too much. You set your bow better and approach him slowly. You touch his back to warn him that you are there, Daryl lifts his head and, once again, accepts your embrace, snuggles against your chest, hugging you, letting the burden of his pain be less heavy now. You cradle him gently and caress his back and hair with pampering letting him calm down little by little.
"The asshole came after them all by himself... I don't know what he intended, to kill the Governor or something, but we could have done it all together... come up with some plan..." He continues mumbling leaning against your chest.
"He just wanted to do the right thing, Daryl. In a suicidal and stupid way, but he wanted to do it... to have a second chance..."
"His second chance was in prison, with all of us."
In that you have doubts, after what he did to Glenn, to Maggie, to Michonne, to everyone in general, it seems, but you don't say it out loud, Daryl would do anything for his brother to be okay, he had already proved it to you, but now there was nothing left to do. You sigh and kiss the top of his head, Daryl moves into your embrace, lifting his head, your gazes meet and you watch each other in silence, neither of you say anything, you just sit there, staring at each other, immersed in the color of each other's eyes. Daryl swallows saliva and you brush your lips with the tip of your tongue. You feel his hands tremble at your waist and you sigh, resting your forehead against his.
"Let's go home." You tell him without raising your voice. "We're not done yet, the Governor can't take our house, we have to fight."
"Yes... let's go home."
On the way to the prison none of you say anything, silence is your ally, Daryl needs to recompose himself, after losing Merle he needs his own time to mourn, to say goodbye for good, to get used to the idea that this time, he won't come back, that it's not one of those times when he disappears and after a few months, he comes back. Not anymore.
For your part you feel your skin bristle, it bothers you, you don't know exactly what feeling it is that envelops you right now. It hurts you to see Daryl like this, you're still upset because he keeps making the wrong choices, to your way of thinking, but now you can't hold it against him, he's lost his brother, the last thing that tied him to his family aside from his own last name, he's the only Dixon alive, you want to give him his time to get back to his old self, but you feel a horrible 'I told you so' scratching at your throat. It's frustrating how easily he manages to get on your nerves, since you've met again, you're on constant alert to know where he is and how he's doing and you feel stupid for it. Daryl knows how to take care of himself, fuck, so much better than you, so much better than all of you and yet you feel entitled to berate him and get mad at him like he's a child. You have to stop doing that, it's not healthy and you know it.
When you arrive at the prison everyone is glad to see you again, the absence of the eldest Dixon is obvious, some give their condolences to Daryl, but he just shakes his head.
"What are we going to do?"
"What are we going to do? Fight." You say utterly convinced.
"We can't fight an entire town, we need to take everything we can and get out of here."
"We can't leave, this place is ours, we fought for it." Rick is on your side and that relieves you.
"Rick, I trusted you to save my daughters, but this is too much, I'm not going to put them in danger for this place." Hershel refuses.
"We will not lose our home, we have fought and lost much to have it. But we will act with our heads, we will come up with a plan to make it all work out."
You have no time to lose, you don't know how long it will take for the Governor to arrive with his people, with his soldiers. You quickly gather everything, finish setting up the barricades, prepare everything, leave the most open and easily accessible areas protected, gather food, weapons, all your things, take Judith away from all the action, you don't want to have to lament unnecessary losses because of a mistake.
It's all risky and you know you'll have to do a lot of cleaning up in there afterwards, but you're relieved to know that you're not leaving that place, that you're not running away.
"Are you okay?" you reach out to Daryl, touching his arm.
"Sure, I have to be..." He nods and looks at you. "I guess I should apologize to you again."
"No, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, I had no right..." You sigh and rub your arms. "But I'm glad you're here again, despite everything and... I'm sorry, for Merle..."
"Nah, don't do that, it's not necessary." He shakes his body and taps you on the shoulder. "Come on, we need to finish up and leave before they start arriving."
You don't respond, the conversation ends there, each of you leaving through different doors to finish as soon as possible.
You are outside the prison walls before the Governor shows up, he is carrying several truckloads of his people, they all look ready for anything, there are women and children too, he has taken with him every person capable of carrying a weapon, it shows how nervous and desperate he looks. You don't understand why, you are not a threat, if he had let Maggie and Glenn go without harming them, they would each go on with their lives as if nothing, but apparently he is not willing to have neighbors.
When they start to enter the perimeter you move towards them, your idea is to ambush them and also to find some unpleasant surprises inside the place that is already waiting for them. Your intention is not to turn everything into a massacre, besides they themselves will clean the whole area of infected, taking away your work.
Soon you begin to hear gunshots and screams inside, you place yourselves in the strategic areas that Rick has selected for each one, when you see people coming out you begin to shoot in a threatening way, you do not shoot anyone in particular, only those who turn to respond to your shots, but you are only threatening them to leave. The last to leave is the Governor.
The prison is still yours, you have managed to get them out of your home. You are happy and excited, but it doesn't mean it's all over. The children return along with Hershel and Beth. Rick still thinks you should go to Woodbury, make sure the Governor isn't out to hurt you again, the idea is to drive your cars after them to further intimidate them. Before you leave, you bring your stuff back inside the pavilion, fix the fence closest to the building plus you take out the bodies of the infected and some woodbury men who will no longer return home to make a pile in the garden and burn them, also to prevent more Walkers from arriving.
After that you get out of there, you don't go too far either, on the way to Woodbury you discover the cars and trucks on the road, abandoned. You stand on guard looking around you, there are Walkers and soldiers everywhere, not all of them have been bitten, others have been executed, friendly fire itself has taken them down.
"What happened here?" you ask and a scream escapes you, frightened, as a woman hits the glass of one of the trucks.
"Help me, please." You gasp as you open the door and she slowly steps out. "He went crazy, he started shooting at all of us..." She says, her voice breaking with tears.
"Where is he now?" she asks, Rick.
"I don't know... but the people of Woodbury are in danger..."
"Rick... we should go help them, we don't know what he would be capable of doing, he's resentful..."
"Yes, we will go there, we will help those who want to come with us..."
"Thank you very much..." Whispers the woman grateful for your help in spite of everything.
The prison is big enough for everyone.
**
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To be Continued...
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Hope you liked it!
See you in the next stories!!
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Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69 @phoenixblack89
#my stuff#norman reedus#normanreedus#mine#daryl dixon#daryldixon#twd fanfiction#series#eventual smut#fluff#romance#violence#hurt/comfort#drama#love#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x wife#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#slow burn
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Dividers throughout the story by @saradika-graphics and @eloquentmoon
Summary
Nora Thelen - a young woman who has to find her way through an apocalypse. When her life in Alexandria seems increasingly pointless and her love affairs there only seem to come to a sad end, one night she finds herself in front of Negan Smith. But how can she find affection for someone who has just killed two supposed friends in front of her eyes?
Taglist • Playlist
Chapter 1 - New Paths - coming soon!
Profile - Nora Thelen - coming soon!
#negan smith#the walking dead#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#twd#negan smut#the walking dead negan#twd smut#nora thelen#negan smith x nora thelen#negan x nora#negan smith x oc#negan x oc#the walking dead oc#twd oc#twd fanfiction#the walking dead fanfiction#badbadbee#strange addiction#18+ only#18+ content#tw blood#tw smut#tw smoking#tw alcohol#tw violence#tw zombies
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