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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

Words are for children [SFW]

A standalone story #4

The Walking Dead | Merle Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing

The Dixon brothers and you were inseparable. You were just a few years older than Daryl, but it always seemed like you were their little sister. For as long as you could remember the three of you, you always had each other’s back. Merle used to stand up for you in school when older boys tried to make fool of you, then Daryl used to miss his classes only to walk you safely home and you would always make up for them than your neighbors or Daryl’s teachers got particularly suspicious of his or Merle’s activities. Every once in a while the brothers would climb a tree next to your house to get into your room unnoticed. Well, firstly it was only Merle. Then, Daryl grew up and carried on with his brother’s routine. You didn’t really know how it all had happened and why, in the first place, but there you were, friends with the famous Dixon brothers.

When the outbreak started you stuck together, making your away out of the city. Merle and Daryl were skilled enough to hunt and orient themselves in the woods and there were no other people you’d trust your life to but them. Then, the quarry group happened. Merle and Daryl wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t want to rob those poor people and leave for the greater good. But you insisted on staying.

“Power in numbers,” you said, folding your arms and eyeing both of them.

They fought but eventually gave in, huffing and puffing. And that’s when the real problems began. Not like you didn’t know Merle’s or Daryl’s temper but it was literally impossible to make them nice to anyone in the group. Merle was making comments about every single woman in the quarry, bossing around, getting on everyone’s nerves, and Daryl was… Daryl was his usual himself. He glared everyone down, scowling and sneering whenever anyone tried to approach him. You didn’t expect him or Merle to greet everyone out there with open arms and hearts, but, damn, if they could at least try.

Soon enough though you had to do something about the brothers because them giving no shit about anyone else but themselves and, well, you, was simply disrespectful, keeping in mind that those people let you join them despite boys’ behavior. Your nerves failed you when Andrea told Shane (loud enough for you to hear) that she no longer could stand the three of you, especially “that damned pervert” around. And that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hey! Watch your language!” you snapped at her. “Merle might be an asshole but he ain’t a rapist. He never laid a hand on a woman without her say-so. And he sure as hell never left anyone behind which is exactly what you’re trying to do!”

Andrea’s eyes went from you to Merle behind you, who froze in place mouth open, staring at your back. “He’s rough, but he and Daryl are what keeps you, people, alive, so goddamn respect that!”

“Why you’re trying so hard? Aren’t you… Aren’t you scared of them?” she asked cautiously.

“They’re the only family I left,” you shook your head, voice stern but no longer angry. “No longer gonna let anyone take that from me.”

“And what happens if they decide to take advantage of you?”

“Then that’s gonna be my fucking problem, not yours,” your hard eyes met hers. “And I’m gonna deal with that myself.”

And that’s how it went. You stayed. Merle talked to you the same evening in the tent the three of you shared.

“Hey, Bunny?”

The nickname he had given you when you had been in school stuck with you even in your adult life. You were so used to it that it almost felt like home.

“Ya didn’t hafta do tha’ today” he mumbled, looking for your eyes.

“Of course, I did” you grumbled, untying your boots, not really looking at him.

“Nah, could’ve handled that m’self.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed.

Arguing with Merle was as pointless as trying to catch a bird with a shovel. The man had the most stubborn ass you ever heard of.

Merle was lying on his back, hands under his head, when he eyed you carefully. He had one of those expressions on his face that you couldn’t particularly read.

“Why ain’t ya scared?”

His question caught you off guard as you stopped fidgeting with the buttons on your shirt. You looked over Daryl looking for some kind of explanation but he lowered his eyes, pretending to be extremely interested in a particularly green spot on the ground. You knew that expression of the younger brother too well. Whatever it was, it made Daryl annoyed and insecure, and you hated seeing him like that.

“Da fuck?”

“Wha’? The bitch had a point. Don’t know how ya still put up with us” Merle shrugged trying to look indifferent.

“Don’t you dare, Dixon!” you growled, clicking your fingers to catch his attention. “You ain’t never laid a hand on me, neither did Daryl,” you nodded toward him, receiving a small nod of his in response. “We’ve been together for ages. Don’t you start that shit again.” You shoved his shoulder hard enough to prove your point.

“Whateva ya say, sweetheart,” Merle grinned, lifting his hands in surrender. He turned on his side, facing you, but before he could grab your hands, you took a step back, eyeing him seriously.

“I’m not scared of you. But you gotta stop it, Merle. I don’t want to lose you or Daryl just because you can’t shut your mouth.”

The man sobered up, sharing a long look with his brother before he nodded. “Ain’t gonna promise ya nothing but ‘m gonna try.”

*** Everything was going too fast and you barely had time to reflect on whatever was going on. When the CDC building blew up, you felt both of Dixons covering your body with theirs. The impact-wave was too strong and you were too close, so even being buried under the men’s bodies you could feel the wave of heat burning your skin. You wondered how the brothers could stand the same heat burning their backs and arms. Neither of them complained and it made you feel weak. After all, you were supposed to take care of them too.

Then on the road, you could have and you most certainly would have died if it wasn’t for them. Leaving the Greene farm with Merle on his bike, you were clutching into his shirt, holding for dear life, praying to whatever God to keep the three of you and the others alive. Daryl made it out on the truck, following suit. The brothers didn’t let you go after that night. One of them was always by your side, keeping an eye on you, watching. The three of you were like an anchor to each other, keeping the other two from falling to pieces.

It was so much like it was before. The three of you against the world. Well, against the dead now. And you weren’t exactly alone. The group slowly got used to one another, creating strong and lasting relationship. You became friends with all of them. And truth to be told, it simply couldn’t have turned the other way. Back on the road, you had to have each other’s backs more than once. It was «one for all and all for one” kind of shit. And you couldn’t be happier than you found the prison. Except, well, Merle.

He couldn’t get used to people around him, which was understandable. Dixon had a temper. The man deserved some credit, he was trying, but it turned out not to be enough. He was scaring the shit out of most of the group, let alone having constant trust issues. Everyone expected him to come swinging a rifle one day, frightening or, worse, killing people. It hurt you too. You tried to prove people wrong but what was the point if Merle did exactly the opposite, starting another heated fight over and over again. The man was under no control. Daryl, luckily, turned out to be okay. He got himself close bonds with Rick and Glenn and no longer looked like a beaten dog, thrown out on the street. The man was socializing, which made you feel proud of him. Daryl was more reserved than his brother, but he wasn’t as rough. And you’d be damned if you didn’t feel happy for him. Finally, your friend was finding his place in the world. Daryl was no longer a boy but a man. Not like you ever treated him differently anyway.

Those changes didn’t mean you drifting apart from one another. You were still stuck together but giving the other one enough freedom to be on their own. And that’s what Merle seemed to love the most, once the group had arrived at the prison. Being alone. He became rougher, snapping at you with and without a particular reason, still glaring everyone down, and scowling. You knew the symptoms. He distanced himself and it was on you to bring him back.

During the dinner time, you’d join him out in the open, sitting in the bed of his truck, silent for most of the time. Not like he minded or anything. But you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. You could feel it.

“Stop it, Merle. You’re thinking too loudly” you snorted, nudging him.

But despite your trying to ease the air, the man would remain tensed up. He was like a wild animal, trapped in the corner, ready to fight to the death. It was painful to watch him and neither you nor Daryl could make him open up. Weeks later, though, he showed up in your cell (it was the closest to the porch where the brothers slept).

“Bunny?”

And you talked. Well, Merle was talking while you were listening to him. The man talked non-stop about everything and nothing at the same time as if he needed the moment like a dying man needs air. He was trouble. That’s what he told you. Not only the place made the darkest memories of his life come flooding back but the people were judging. Again. It just became too much to bear. He was a damn mystery to himself, and he felt like he had let both his brother and you down. Which couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Merle saved you. How could you ever ask for more?

When you brought him to sit next to you among the others at the dining table for the first time, everyone fell quiet. Merle stiffened, jaw tight, glaring at everyone with hatred as if he expected the worst. You hand on his hip, and a tight nod was all that kept him away from storming off of the room. But slowly, minute by minute, the conversations were back, everyone acted like nothing was off. Though, you could still feel Merle tensing up under you soothing touch, side-glancing you every once in a while. But he was trying.

“He ain’t gonna change,” you were telling Rick later. “Unless you change the way you treat him. Merle and Daryl had a tough life, they saw shit. More than you could think of. They had shitty past but that don’t mean they’re bad people. Look at me, Rick. I’m alive because they were there, with me. Because Merle was there for me. You may not know how hard it is for him, but I do. Man, he’s trying. So why don’t you try too?”

It took another few months for your people (as you referred them to) to find common ground with the Dixon, and for Merle, well, to gain some trust. He was doing his best, learning to actually communicate instead of fighting. Even Andrea, who was the first in line, demanding to send him off, started to tolerate him. Slowly but surely the man in front of you was changing.

*** Merle opened the gates letting the car in, before closing them back before any walkers could find their way in. Georgian sun had disappeared a long time ago, the days turned out to be grayer with every passing week. The prison was short on supplies, which required another group of four going out that morning. He stole the last glance at the forest, hoping his little brother would be smart enough to find his way back before the rain when he heard crying from the prison yard. Glenn was leaning on both Maggie’s and Tyreese’s shoulders, barely moving his legs. The three of them looked like they’d been through a blood bath or something.

Merle’s eyes frantically looked for you. You weren’t in the car, and something in the look of those three made his heart fall to his stomach.

“Where’s she?” he growled, looking from one to another. “Where’s she?!”

“Th-there was a…” Maggie started but Merle’s roar made her close her eyes as she tried to suppress her sobbing.

“Ain’t giving a shit wha’ happen’. Asked where’s she?!”

“There was a damn herd coming at us! She got separated. We tried to look for her but there were too many of them,” Glenn blurted out, voice becoming quieter with every word until it was no louder than a whisper. “I’m sorry, man.”

His heart stopped. Merle stood there, frozen in place, running his hands up and down his face, trying to shake it all off. Maggie’s cries became muffled when she pressed her face into Glenn’s chest. Though Merle thought his ears were stuffed.

He made his way to Glenn, barely holding himself from killing the damn kid. Instead, he came closer, his eyes never leaving the car behind the trio.

“Give me that gun!” he barked out.

Glenn was probably too shocked by a sudden change in man’s demeanor to react on time. But it was too late when Merle yanked the gun from the holster, shoving it behind his waistband, turning on his heels only to make his way back to the car.

“Merle!” someone shouted at him, but he’d be dead if he cared. His blood was boiling, resonating somewhere in his head, making his vision blurry. Or maybe it wasn’t just the pain.

Someone shouted about his bike, that was faster or something, but Merle was too occupied turning the old Nissan around, pushing the gas pedal to the ground, making his way to the gates. At that point, he wouldn’t really care if he rammed the gates.

At some point, he heard Glenn’s voice giving him the route. But the only thing that was going through his mind was that no way would he stop.

***

He hit the brakes so hard that the deafening whizzes of the wheels could probably be heard miles away. Not like he cared, again. Merle looked around, paying no attention to the walkers wandering nearby. He was looking for a mall, you had to be in when the herd had caught up with your group. It took him another five long and agonizing minutes to find it. The herd must have gone through, as there was no single soul, dead or alive.

For the second time in a day, Merle felt like suffocating on his own air. His heart was beating so fast, it was ready to explode in his chest.

The man made his way to the blockage at the end of the hall. It seemed that the beams had collapsed on the stairs, that couldn’t withstand the pressure. The bodies of the dead were scattered all over the floor, smeared and crushed by the fittings, some of them were still hissing and banging their rotten teeth, their dead eyes looking into the void.

A huge hole in the floor gaped in the middle of the room. Merle had to go to the very edge and squat down to see the remains of the bearing walls and the horde buried beneath them. His eyes fluttered restlessly over the ruins of what was left when his gaze accidentally caught hold of a painfully familiar shirt. He had given you this shirt on one of the cold nights, and he didn’t dare to take it back. Something was about seeing you wear it every day.

Merle jumped down, at the last minute thinking that he wouldn’t be of any use if he broke his limbs on these ruins. As soon as he came closer, even greater fear seized him, forcing him to freeze in place. A mixture of blood, rot, skin, and clothes covered your body and a soft growl from somewhere below iced his skin. It took him too much time to overcome the fear that sat somewhere under the ribs to climb down.

“Y/N?”

The growl didn’t stop, but something stirred under a pile of bodies. The walker lying on top plopped down on his side with a muffled clatter. Merle seemed to be doused with cold water. Your hands were covered with a layer of dirt, and your clothes were soaked in blood.

“Mer-Merle?”

Your voice, your gentle, but at the same time strong voice, which he so loved to listen to, was now no louder than a whisper. You opened your eyes with obvious difficulty, which inexorably started to ache from the dust that got into them. Pain fettered the body. You tried to turn your head to the sound of a familiar voice, fearing that that was just another game of your mind. However, rustling and chaotic curses proved the opposite. After a couple of seconds, Merle's face appeared in your field of vision. You called him again, feeling your body seizing with a tremendous tremor.

“Merle!” you cried, feeling hot tears burning your skin when the man placed his hand on the side of your face. He was kneeling down beside you, eyes wide in shock.

“Y/N… Shit, girl. Ya hurt? Ya better tell me ‘s not yer blood…” he mumbled, and you caught a hint of unhidden panic in his voice.

“No. it’s not. I-I had to cut it open so that they wouldn’t find me” you motioned to the walker next to you.

“Shit,” Merle cursed again. “Can ya stand up?”

You had to close your eyes and bite your lip, so as not to scream when you tried to rise, leaning on your forearms. A sharp pain pierced the spine, which immediately went to the numb arms and legs.

"I ... I don’t know. I tried to hide from the horde when the concrete flew down. I don’t remember what happened then, but I woke up here with walkers around. I must have fallen on my back ..." you sighed unevenly, trying to catch Merle’s eyes. “Don’t… Don’t leave me, please. God, Merle, just don’t leave me here.”

You were crying not really registering anything around when Merle started shushing you down. His hands went to grab your face, making you look at him. You stared in his ocean eyes, your own eyes red from both crying and soreness at the same time.

Merle wasn’t smiling, wasn’t talking, he just looked back at you, before whispering. You couldn’t remember his voice so soft and uneven, as he leaned closer to you, whispering, never looking away. “I’m sorry. Fuck, girl…”

Merle stood up, but only to grab you by your shoulders and stick his hands under your knees. He intended to bring you back no matter what it cost him. But he wasn’t ready for your painful moan escaping your lips when he lifted you from the concrete slab. You grabbed his broad shoulders, nails digging into the skin. It took Merle himself a minute to calm his frantically beating heart and suppress the urge to scream at the hopeless feeling in his heart. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he simply had no choice.

His every step was sending flashes of pain throughout your body. Merle saw the pain settle in your facial features. You were on the edge. The pain was so unbearable that you were afraid to lose consciousness at any second. The man’s hands pressed your body to his chest more and more, and he never stopped whispering. At some point, one his careless movement made you cry out from the renewed pain, and you had to press your face into his shoulder to at least somehow muffle your cry. There were still walkers in the building, and by the way Merle quickened his pace, you realized that some of them got too close. The two of you were vulnerable now. And Merle wouldn’t be able to shoot unless… Unless he dropped you to the ground.

“Merle,” you pleaded quietly, looking behind him. “Get out, I-I’m… I’m slowing you down.”

Another low growl was his answer. He stopped for a second but only to have a better hold of you. “Ain’t happening.”

When he finally made it back to the car, your body felt too numb and too small in his arms. Your eyes were closed.

“Shit, girl, come on now. Open yer eyes, sugar.”

Merle carefully laid you on the back seats, starting the car, looking behind every once in a while. He hated that though but damn if he was glad that you’d passed out. The ride back home was rough and he tried his best not to go too fast so you wouldn’t fall from the seat but at the same time trying to get the two of you back to the prison as soon as possible.

The onset of the storm only worsened the situation. Behind the impenetrable darkness of the road, Merle can hardly see the holes. The probability of flying into a ditch was too great. The downpour began, mercilessly eroding gravel; small rubble flew into the windshield. Merle, no matter how much he was afraid for your life, was glad that you hadn’t seen this whole nightmare.

He only made it back hours later, and you still hadn’t opened your eyes. Merle was standing in the yard when Rick and Daryl took your pale, almost lifeless body from him. The rain was mercilessly beating in his face, but he didn’t care. He heard his brother calling him in but his voice seemed too distant. Strong gusts of wind carried raindrops in his eyes, and his clothes were wet to the skin. But then again, not that he cared. He was still standing; his eyes fixed in the dark sky above his head, and in his head was your voice, again and again, the voice full of pain and despair. His hands were covered in blood, and for some reason, the realization that this same blood was on your body hit him in the chest.

Merle closed his eyes, letting the heavy raindrops wash away all the anxiety and dull pain under his ribs. And a thunderstorm lit the western part of the sky.

*** You walked down the stairs leading outside the building, breathing in the frosty air. The prison yard was covered with a thin layer of snow that was glistering in the sunset light. Rainy days changed to cool late-autumn days, the weather finally giving in.

You shivered under the blow of wind creeping under your sweater and readjusted the tight bandages under your chest. You looked about, sneaking from the stairs, heading to the lonely figure at the fence.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Bunny? You’s gonna catch a cold.”

Merle must have heard you by the snow crunching under your boots. He turned to meet you with a deep frown. You smiled uncertainly in response, leaning on the nearest wall to ease the pulling feeling in your tailbone. Herschel performed a real medical miracle, practically pulling you out of the other world. The impact of falling onto the concrete was too strong. You were incredibly lucky to stay not only alive but also with normally functioning limbs. Damaged caused by such a fall could not only lead to numerous fractures, but also paralysis.

“I won’t. Just needed some air,” you murmured, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hershel’s been keeping me locked inside for over a month now, I’m getting sick of those walls.”

The man’s eyes remained just as cold as he turned away from you, looking into the distance.

“Ya catch a draft and that back of yours ain’t gonna heal.”

Merle turned his back on you. There was something in his pose that made you nervous. For over a month, he was cold to you, getting away by a few words and grunts, which made him look a lot like Daryl. But if the latter spent more and more time with you while you were literally bedridden, talking about hunting and supply runs into the city, then Merle limited himself to visiting you in the morning, asking about your well-being and disappearing for the rest of the day. The rest of the group soon helped you to catch up to what was going on by telling that the elder Dixon was not his own self when he had returned with your body in his arms. He shut off. His ocean eyes suddenly turned gray and dull, as if on that fateful day for you a piece of himself died. There was an emptiness, devouring him from the inside

“Hershel said I’ll be able to get to work in less than two weeks,” you said out loud, hoping that Merle would hear you.

Before you managed to somehow react, the man was there. His hard eyes met yours, and perhaps for the first time in all the time you had known each other, you saw cruelty in them. Cruelty and pain.

“Like hell you are!” he snapped, leaning closer, making you gasp. “Ya ain’t doing shit without me!”

You quietly called his name, but Merle didn’t seem to hear you. He seemed to be in some kind of trance, almost in a comatose state. He jerked back violently when your palm fell on his chest, pressing gently where his heart was beating. His eyes softened a little, and Merle dropped his head helplessly on your shoulder. His hands clung to the wall behind you, and for a second it seemed that you could distinctly hear the thud of a blow when his fists connected with the surface.

“Gotta take care of ma woman,” he mumbled.

“Is that what I am?” you asked softly, pressing him tightly into you, looking in front of you.

“Huh?”

“Your woman?”

Merle moved away, shifting awkwardly, looking away. You saw him biting his lip hard, looking away before he finally looked back at you. He lifted your chin with his index finger and cupped you face, watching you nuzzle into his touch.

“Listen, sugar. I know I ain’t a good man fer… Don’t –“ He cut you off when you tried to protest. “ – Listen. I know I ain’t a man ya deserve. Shit, girl. Ya’ve been putting up with our crap longer than I dare to remember and I ain’t never thanked ya. I’s no good fer ya, never been. But I know I’m better with ya around. Ya make me a better man. ‘s what they say, ya know…” he trailed off, looking away. “And I… I can’t promise ya nothing, sweetheart, but I wanna try to be a better man fer ya. If ya let me…”

He watched your eyes fix on him, before you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his and closed your eyes.

“Dixon…”

He didn’t dare to move closer, feeling himself go numb. Merle closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, letting the heat radiating from your body engulf him. All the anxiety penned up for the past month finally found its way out as he let himself be absolutely honest and vulnerable in front of you.

“Had I known that shit would make you open up, would have gone missing sooner.” You soft chuckle actually made the man in front of you blush.

“Ya know it better, sugar,” he mumbled. ”Ain’t good with ‘em words.”

“Words are for children, Merle.” You moved away, looking into his eyes for the last time, before turning and heading back to the prison. He followed you with a worried look, not knowing how to read your reaction.

“You gonna stay there and freeze your ass off? Come on, Dixon, take my hand,” you snorted at him.

A stupid smile crept across his face as he stared at the hand you held out to him. Well, now, he definitely was going to try harder. He’d just got a reason to.

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

Where the healing begins [SFW]

A standalone story #3

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing, mentioning of physical violence, non-graphic rape

The first thing Daryl feels in the morning is the burning cold of the bed. He’s under the sheets but it doesn’t save him from the chilly feeling going through his body. It feels like a hangover. He’s dizzy, and he can’t even properly open his eyes. It’s worse when he finally does.

It takes him way too long to look about. He spots a shattered glass on the floor, and it’s the first thing that triggers his mind. It can’t be good. It takes another minute to finally sit up on the bed. The light, coming from the window pierces Daryl’s eyes and he groans. The sound makes his throat itch and he feels like coughing. And smoking.

The cabin is long-abandoned. No food, no drink, nothing, Daryl is sure after ransacking every room. He still doesn’t know what he’s looking for, though. His mind is blurry.

Something clicks in his mind when he sees bloodstains on the bed. He studies them blankly; trying to remember anything but comes up with nothing. His head is empty, so he leaves them be. He’s not bitten, nor severely injured, the rest doesn’t matter.

It takes him forever to get back to the prison. He kills two walkers on his way and by the way his hands are trembling he can tell that something is wrong. The dull feeling that he had forgotten something important doesn’t let go, and Daryl feels it in his bones. He needs to get his shit together, whatever it is, he needs the control back. Daryl goes off deeper into the woods, hunting.

It’s already lunchtime by the time he’s back. But nothing looks wrong. Except, nobody’s looking at him at all. Like it wasn’t him who went missing. Carol meets him at the gates with a deep frown. It’s that type of look that makes Daryl feel like a guilty schoolboy in front of his mother. He feels like turning himself inside out and lying at her feet for not to see that look on her face.

It doesn’t get better in the evening. It looks like everyone is playing some kind of a stupid game and he’s the one who missed the “explaining rules” part. Except, it doesn’t seem like a game to him. People are sight-glancing him, whispering something to each other. Even Rick’s avoiding his gaze. He’s frowning more than always and looks like he’s about to say something but the next second shuts off and storms off of the room. It makes Daryl want to scream. At no one and everyone at the same time.

He doesn’t eat. His guts won’t take any food anyway. Instead, he goes out.

Daryl’s looking about till he spots a figure at the yard. He hasn’t seen her at lunch, nor at the dinner. She’s the only that hasn’t seen him since he got back.

It’s about damn time, he thinks, heading in her direction. Maybe, she could explain the deal.

Daryl stops when he realizes that Y/N hasn’t moved since he saw her. He doesn’t dare to come closer. Something’s wrong and Daryl knows it by the way her shoulders are tensed.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “Wha’ ‘s wro…”

She turns around before he can finish. Daryl has to take a few steps back because what he sees is so different from what he’s used to seeing. Her eyes are red and puffy, and it most certainly than not looks like a breakdown.

When Daryl spots the gun in her hand it’s already too late. Y/N points it at him but doesn’t move. Tears streaming down her face as she points it right between his eyes. Her hand’s shaking and she looks like she’s about to pull the damn trigger, and it takes Daryl all his willpower not to move. A shiver’s running down his spine and he panics, trying to find a way out, but again, the second time in the day, he comes up with nothing. His eyes lay on her bandaged wrists, then on her bruised neck. And that’s when it hits him. That’s when he remembers it.

He was shit-faced drunk, went to the woods to clear his fucked-up mind, and the damn girl followed. She was following him till he found the cabin. He knew she was going after him, he knew and he didn’t care. Instead, he found another bottle in the cabin, didn’t drink it, though. Smashed it. Scared her. She snapped at him, and for the first time… Did he listen? Did he really listen to her?

He remembers fighting. Lots of it. Y/N was stubborn as fuck. What happened next? Daryl hopes his mind’s playing jokes on him because what comes to his mind couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have done that. The blood on the bed, his belt on the floor, pieces of glass everywhere… It all makes sense now.

Daryl falls on his knees, eyes wide in shock. He doesn’t dare to look into her eyes staring in the ground instead. And like the rest, the gun pointed to his head makes sense now. Daryl’s own tears burning his cheeks and he almost begs for the gunshot to happen.

Somebody’s screaming.

Daryl closes his eyes, ready to meet the pain, but nothing happens. It feels like forever when he opens them again. Rick’s standing a few steps away, his hand on Y/N’s. He’s whispering something and she seems to be listening, but her eyes glued to Daryl. He sees her letting go of the gun and before she can do anything else, Rick’s turning her body around, pressing her back to his chest, not letting to look behind. Daryl hears that now, almost like his ears have been staffed all the day before that. He hears. And he listens to her breaking down, letting the pain eat him alive. And after all, he thinks, he deserved that bullet.

***

She’s knocked up. Y/N learns that weeks later when it’s already too late. She cries all night in Carol’s arms, clutching into her shirt.

Daryl hears that too. It makes him shut his eyes tightly to the point he sees dark circles. He feels trapped.

Rick beats the hell out of him, not like Daryl withstands. He fucking got what he deserved. Hell, he deserved more than that. He doesn’t deserve to even be here right now. A few bruises and a black eye are nothing at this point. Daryl feels like he’s rotting from inside and there’s nothing to be done. He fucked up.

Rick beats him twice. First time for what he had done. The second time, for wanting to leave. Daryl stops talking then. Stops watching people. His eyes would once in a while look for hers, but she never looks at him back. As if he stopped existing. That would be even better, though, he thinks to himself. He wants to escape.

For the next few weeks Daryl’s going on runs with Rick, Glenn, a few others, not promising, but desperately trying to find pills. And he almost puts a bullet into his head when he doesn’t find any. Rick watches him, eyes narrowed; he looks at him with ill-concealed malice and clenched fists. About to go off. He passes by, roughly pushing his shoulder, hissing to his face, "Don’t you fucking try to run away." Daryl isn’t trying. He knows Rick will feed him his own guts if he leaves.

It's too late. And Daryl forces himself to listen to her crying at night, when Rick squeezes her shoulder, looking anywhere, but not in her eyes. And for the first time in his life, Daryl’s praying. But there is no response, only dead silence that weights on him.

***

Daryl feels like he’s losing his mind again when the war starts. Merle’s death wrecks him to the point he can’t stay upright. The first thing he sees when he comes back to prison is Y/N. Her look is too intense and Daryl feels like falling apart. It’s almost too much. He still doesn’t look her in the eyes and for some reason, it feels that he doesn’t have the right for his weakness. He looks like a battered stray dog. He is a mess, his head too. And no matter how desperately he’s trying to avoid the guilt devouring him, he can’t stop it. So he allows it to destroy him.

He stands still when her hand rests on his shoulder, although his mind screams at him to run, run and never look back. He squeezes his eyes shut when he hears “I'm sorry” and almost screams back. She should not be sorry for him.

Days after, he starts seeing Lori in his nightmares. Her pregnant belly and lifeless face.

***

He loses Y/N when prison falls and it’s worse than losing hope. Beth follows him through the woods, not judging but not helping either. He’s numb. He’s delusional. He wakes up every night from a nightmare and his whole existence suddenly feels like one. And then he is too exhausted, then there’s a void in his chest. A dull pain mixed with sharp pieces of what he used to feel, of what he used to be, cuts his heart open and it’s most certainly worse than death. It’s smothering. And Daryl feels like he’s drowning and there’s no surface to break. He’s suffocating himself.

He loses Beth.

His hands are covered in dirt and burns; he’s having his last smoke.

Daryl wants to shut his goddamn mind off and he’s sick. He thinks about Y/N all the time and it’s worse than any torture. God knows how worse. He lost them. He betrayed the woman he cared about. And now she’s out there with his child. His. He swallows the word and it sticks to his throat. Daryl opens and closes his mouth like a fish left to die on the ground. And he’s sober. Sober more than he has ever been.

Daryl’s losing his mind.

***

Rick and Michonne find him, not the other way around. He’s sitting still beside his brother, the heart’s nearly beating.

“I lost ‘er”

Rick nods. He’s fidgeting with the rag, not looking at him. Daryl shifts. He’s so tired of the endless silence around him and his own thoughts dwelling on him that he almost begs for Rick to say something. It’s too late when Daryl notices Michonne hugging Carl tightly, looking away. Daryl loses it again, gets up from the ground, clenching his fists. His body aches to the point he can’t breathe, and Daryl forces himself to stay still when he feels like breaking down. His body’s shaking, and he almost expects Rick to hold him down but nothing happens. And he’s on his own again.

***

Daryl has no power left to suppress his sobbing; he nibbles on his lip till it starts to bleed. He hugs Carol too hard, hearing her wince. And Daryl’s head is a fucking mess. He steps back, head low. It’s exactly the same ugly feeling he had months ago walking through the gates of the prison. Carol’s eyes are soft though, she’s smiling with the corners of her mouth.

When Y/N walks to stand next to her, it’s too much for him. Daryl’s on his knees, crying, shoulders shaking, and it’s just the same fucking thing again. He doesn’t give a shit if anyone’s judging him. He’s too weak. He’s too scared. But his eyes never leave hers. He begs silently, not trusting his voice, nor ready to hear anything.

Y/N silently places a hand on her stomach and nods. And for Daryl, that’s more than enough.

She looks too pale, too skinny, too exhausted but she’s there, standing a few feet away from him. And Daryl just lifts up his eyes and mouths, “Thank you”

***

They are on the road again. And they walk together side by side. Daryl notices how tired she now is and it makes his heart ache. He tries to keep his distance; he tries to stay away from her as if his presence could harm her fragile body. And Daryl doesn’t understand it when she seeks for his company, standing close, brushing her hand against his.

He goes off to the woods hunting every single morning, sometimes nights too. He doesn’t notice how exhausted he really is until Y/N places her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. Daryl wants to object, he wants to shake the feeling of her touch off and keep going, but his body doesn’t seem to listen to him anymore. So he stands, numb, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“You’re doing more than enough for the group. For me. Now rest.”

Daryl’s giving his portions to her, not bothering to drink or to eat himself. He shrugs off his jacket without second-thinking when the nights become colder. Daryl isn’t even sure he exists because everything he does suddenly becomes everything he has to do for her. He becomes a man of all the forgotten “is” to all the “has to be”. He is no longer a survivor, he is a protector. He is no longer a hunter but a provider. And it all comes to the point where he sees it clearly. And every time doubt crawls its way into his head he makes himself remember. Remember her scared eyes and tears, remember the gun pointed to his head, remember the pain. It’s something he isn’t sure he can erase from his memory. It keeps him alive.

When they finally find shelter it’s too late, the storm’s already there. They’re soaked, cold and too exhausted to find another place. The barn is more than nothing and the weak fire is the best they can get to keep going.

Daryl watches her lulling baby Judith when Rick’s busy making sure everyone’s alright. And he remembers doing as much as the same thing when the baby girl was born. He remembers holding her but not the feeling of her weight in his arms. He remembers her stirring in her sleep but not the sweet noises she used to make. He feels like a part of him is missing and watching Y/N only makes him feel incomplete.

Daryl also watches her placing Judith in Rick’s arms, smiling lovingly. And it makes his head ache badly. It’s the same thing that has been following him for weeks now, and it’s the same thing he can’t get rid of.

He doesn’t dare to come closer, but oh god how much does he want that. His body aching and his soul is on fire. And God, it hurts.

He doesn’t sleep, nor does he leave his place. He’s caged inside his mind and there’s no way out. He’s burying himself alive. And hell if that feels right.

***

“Hey.” He hears from behind.

“Hey”

Y/N shivers with night chilly air, her shirt lifts up and Daryl notices a stripped line of skin on her belly. He isn’t sure how much time has passed but soon it’s gonna be over. She’s big and it’s so different from what it was a couple of months ago. She doesn’t look so pale and skinny; tired, sure, but she looks better. And that’s something that makes his heart beat faster.

“Shouldn’t be out ‘ere”

“I know, just needed some air.” Daryl watches her breathing in and out slowly, a small smile in the corner of her lips.

For the first time in a while, he sees her smiling. It does warm something in his chest but at the same time, he feels like all the air was stolen from his lungs. It’s too much to bear, too much to hold on to.

He starts to roll the cigarette between his fingers, before crushing it with his foot on the steps. He wants to smoke so badly it itches somewhere in his throat but no damn way he’s gonna do that in front of a pregnant woman. Y/N…

The silence is deafening. He feels her moving behind him and it could be the way she sniffs or the way she sighs that makes him lower his head. When she starts to speak, her voice trembles. He can almost see with his back how she tries to keep herself from crying, from sounding weak and it tears him apart. He doesn’t need another reminder of his messed up past, he doesn’t want to be sent away. It’s a damn irony.

“I know we never spoke about that before but… You know, back at the prison, I didn’t follow you because Rick had told me to.”

Daryl frowns, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed, staring at his hands.

“Why?” He asks before he can think, not really hoping for an answer. He isn’t even sure there’s anything left but hope. Hope that it’ll get better. Hope that they won’t have to flee again. Hope that they make it out alive… Hope he doesn’t fuck it up again.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is that we’ve all made mistakes.” He scoffs at that and it makes his blood boil. “I don’t hate you, never did. But I get it, you know.”

He knows, she’s looking for words. Something he had never been good with. And he’s grateful at some point, that she doesn’t make him speak instead.

“You’re not him, Daryl.”

“How’d ya know? Might as well turn out the same” he huffs, annoyed.

“Because you were here,” she replies, serious. Daryl almost feels her stare on him and it only makes him more nervous. “You were here for us, he didn’t. Your man wasn’t there for you.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Not like there’s anything to say. She might be right, might be wrong, who cares? Daryl’s on his feet, ready to set off to the woods again, anything to escape her eyes. He lies to himself mercilessly, lies that it’s only temporary, that he’ll leave once he makes sure everyone’s okay. He lies. The truth is ugly, even for him. The truth is he can’t. Not because of Rick’s promise to feed him his own guts, not because of his promise to try to fit in Alexandria. It’s something more mature. The feeling under his ribs, that scares the shit out of him. What if he does leave? Is he too far gone?

‘’Daryl,” Y/N calls. “I can’t make you stay, I understand that,” she sighs, looking blankly at her hands, frowning. “I talked to Rick. You’re free to leave once this is over, nobody’s gonna hold you.”

Daryl thinks his heart stops. If that’s what he wanted, then why does it hurt so much?

“But I tell you something. You gotta let it go. Stop beating yourself for shit you can’t change. Stop blaming yourself for things you did, what’s in the past, stays there. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here now.”

He knows what she means by that, but his mind’s too messed up to catch up with his movements. He turns around, approaching her, leaving no space in between them. He feels like shouting, and it feels like a thunder racking his body and mind, when he stands there, ready to scream but only searching for her eyes. His are full of sorrow and anger. He is a time bomb ready to go off.

“If tha’ wasn’t fer me, ya wouldn’t be…”

“I forgive you.”

For a solid minute, nothing happens. They just stand close to each other, he’s tensed and she’s too calm. They haven’t been this close since… since. It feels surreal and Daryl doesn’t trust himself. He doesn’t trust his hearing nor his heart beating wildly in his chest. He almost waits for her to flinch, step back and move away, anything to escape this closeness. But nothing happens. He’s looking for her eyes as if trying to find an answer there. And he isn’t sure whether it’s the way she looks at him, or her confident posture or anything else but it makes him step back. He understands it without words.

“That so?”

“Yeah”

He takes another step back, biting his lip again, trying to put himself together.

“Ain’t ready to be a father” he mumbles.

Y/N chuckles softly, “Neither am I ready to be a mom.” She thinks for a bit, looking away and then adds, “Never thought I’d be one, you know, not in the world like this. But I want it. Look at that, Daryl. We have a roof above our heads, food to last another few months… But more importantly, we have people. So yeah, I’d be damned if I didn’t want this.”

It feels like a weight off his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why doesn’t try to explain. He’s a-okay with what he is but Y/N and the baby? He knows that for as long as he dwells on this earth he’ll be there for them. Even though his soul’s gonna be damned.

“Can I?”

Y/N stands where she was when he comes closer again. He’s unsure but moves nevertheless, making her smile softly. And when he does, his touch is like a fire, spreading warmth, soothing. His large hand is on her belly and Daryl lets himself close his eyes. He lets himself feel. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where his healing begins.

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@1950schick

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

One-Shot #4 [NSFW]

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Smut

Daryl was a caring partner and a lustful lover. That's why your intimate life was pretty intense. Daryl often tended to get jealous and overprotective. Especially if either of you had a close call or if some guy was hitting on you. Then, Daryl would grab your arm, paying no attention to anyone around, dragging you towards your house, making you laugh softly. No lies, you loved how hot and bothered he would become all of a sudden. And all because of you.

In your room, he would rip your clothes off as if they didn't belong to your body. His hands would be all over you, touching, rubbing, leaving red marks. He would kiss you hungrily, as if his life depended on his lips touching yours. Then, he would kiss your neck, going lower to your breasts, sucking on your nipples and your lower stomach, licking every inch of your body. His touch would be like a damn fire burning your skin as you'd arch up into him to the point where you thought your bones would break.

You soon figured out that Daryl wasn't particularly proud of himself in sex. He seemed much more interested in provoking all kinds of sweet sounds and reactions from your body. It took him quite a while to find his own ways of pleasuring you, making you a moaning mess. But once he did, your intimate life turned upside down. Daryl would usually make you come undone in a matter of minutes just by touching you right where you needed him to.

Daryl was wild. He was rough and dominant, though he would always make sure you were ready and prepared for him. Then, it wouldn't take more than a few deep thrusts before he'd lose his control completely. He'd be fast and rough, thrusting deep into your body, making you cover your mouth to muffle your cries. He'd praise you like a queen, making his priority to satisfy you. The way he'd treat your body would make you want to submit to whatever he had in mind. He'd kiss you, touching everywhere he could get his hands on as if you were the one and only. And he never failed to prove to you how much he loved you for letting him do all those things to you. He might cross the line here and there, but he'd never do anything against your will, anything to make you feel uncomfortable. He'd stop. And you trusted him not to hurt you. No matter how hard it was for him to restrain himself, you knew he'd stop. You didn't even have to say anything as Daryl would see it right away.

You absolutely loved Daryl's dominant side. You loved him marking you, leaving dark marks on your neck or collarbones for others to see. You loved him claiming you, whispering "mine" over and over again, muffling his groans into your shoulder or chest. Daryl wasn't used to be gentle, he never knew how to be gentle with a woman before you. And you'd always make sure you let him know just how much you loved him the way he was, moaning, calling his name like a prayer. You'd grab his toned arms, exploring his body all over again as if it was your first time together. Making sure you knew every muscle so that the image of his body would be forever embedded in your memory. So that you wouldn't ever forget how big and strong he was.

Once Daryl was sure you were his, he wouldn't hesitate to remind you of that anywhere and everywhere he could. He would go wild, feeling you close to him, his blood would be boiling from lust and uncontrolled desire, while he would be trying to keep himself distracted from your body and especially from your eyes. You could always read him, and despite how much he loved you teasing him, sometimes it would be just too much for him.

You had never thought anyone could be so touch-starved like Daryl was. He was a sucker for all the touching and licking and biting. Who would have thought? Daryl adored those positions where your body would be pressed against his. Whether it would be you on top of him, your back to his chest, where his arms would be wrapped around your middle, while he would be bucking his hips into you, groaning into the back of your neck. Or whether it would be him on top, pressing his body into yours, while you'd be arching up, only pressing yourself harder into his groin. Not like you minded anyway.

But then, every once in a while, your roles would be reversed. Daryl, all of a sudden, would be too jerky and cranky. He would fall quiet, avoiding anyone's gaze or touch. In times like these, it would be your turn to take care of him.

Daryl usually would be too stressed, caught in his own mind, to do even a simple task such as undressing himself. Then, you'd be there for him, undoing the buttons on his shirt and unzipping his pants, helping him out of his clothes. You'd help him get in the shower. following suit. Daryl wouldn't be looking at you, too ashamed of his state. He was never the one to open up about what was bothering him. In times, when his insecurities and self-doubts prevail his rational thinking he would be wondering again and again whether he was worth it. Was he worth your love? Was he worth all the care you were giving him? And you'd be reassuring him right away, "Yes, you are." You'd be hugging him from behind, rubbing his arms and stomach, trying to soothe him, while he would be standing still, head low.

Then, you'd lead him to your room, making him sit on the be, gently pushing his chest. Your soft smile and mischievous eyes would be the only cure for his aching heart, as he'd lean to kiss you. His hands would be caressing the soft skin of your cheeks and neck, as he'd dubiously try to pull your closer. He would need to feel you more than ever. And you would be more than ready to give your man what he wanted.

You'd straddle him, already naked, leaving soft kisses on his neck and going lower, kissing his broad chest. Daryl would be silent, still tensed, stuck in his insecurities. He wouldn't be moving, letting you do everything you wanted, while guilt would be eating him alive. He, then, would try to reciprocate, thinking it was supposed to be his job to make you feel good, not vice-versa. But you'd gently reject him, whispering, your lips ghosting his ear, "Today, it's not about me, babe. Let me love you as you deserve it."

You'd want to make him feel good, you'd want him to feel loved. Daryl might not be the most romantic lover, he might not be a man of lots of PDA but he was caring, he'd sell his soul, tore his body apart for his loved ones. His devotion to his family, his endless and selfless love for you was worth all the waiting and hiding. He deserved to be loved more than anyone.

After all the touching and sweet kissing, you'd finally move forward. Daryl always loved you riding him, but in times like these, it would be the only way that would feel right for both of you. Face to face. Skin touching. Looking into each other's eyes.

You'd start at a slower pace, grinding your hips, enjoying him filling you to the brims. A slight change in the angle of your hips would make Daryl throw his head back, groaning quietly. That's when his body would finally start to relax, letting go of all the penned up stress. Daryl's head would suddenly go empty, the feeling of your body would be too overwhelming. You'd smile to yourself. And that soft, loving smile would be the last straw for the man. All the raw emotions he had been hiding inside of him would be flooding back on him when he'd press himself into you, chest to chest, hiding his head in the crook of your neck. In a second, his hands would grip your thighs. And that would be the signal for you to move faster. You'd bring your arms around Daryl's neck, holding him closer as he would be getting closer to the edge.

Daryl would whimper quietly, reaching his high. He would suddenly look so vulnerable and small, clutching into your body, shaking. And you wouldn't stop yourself from kissing the top of his head, running through his hair, soothing, providing comfort. Daryl would usually stay in the same position, letting the heat coming from your body engulf him. His face would be still hidden in the crook of your neck when he'd move his hand to your chest, feeling your heartbeat underneath it. It would be the reminder for him that you were here, you were alive, that you hadn't left him. More than that, you would always make sure you let him know that by murmuring to his ear, "I got you, love. Let it go, I got you."

Even after Daryl would be the one holding on to you, laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arm around your middle. He would never let anyone see that side of him, except you. And you knew that.

You also knew that tomorrow he would be the same possessive, rough archer, who'd be pinning you down the wall, leaving dark hickeys on your neck and shoulders; who'd be kissing you roughly, pressing you into a kitchen counter; who'd be having the stare full of wilderness and raw desire that would make your knees go weak... But all of that, it will be tomorrow. Now, your man needed you in a different kind of way.

Because, well, even strong men sometimes need a strong woman by their side.

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

You were never gone [SFW]

A standalone story #2

Based on a request by @mindfreakswaggy :

So one of my favorite things to see is when Daryl reunited with carol and gets hella emotional😩 so can you do one where the reader and Daryl are close around season one, ending up having a crush on each other and gets split up when it’s overrun and the reader ends up reuniting with the group at Alexandria and they’re all back together??

A/N: I got carried away, sorry. What was supposed to be a short drabble, turned into a standalone story. Moreover, I took the events a little bit further than s1, hope you don’t mind! Also, let me know if any of you want to be tagged in my future works.

P.S. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

You met when Dixon brothers appeared at your quarry camp one day. Daryl’s quiet and observant nature caught your attention right away. He wasn’t like the other men in your group, not like Shane or Glenn, but neither was he the same with his brother. Merle Dixon was an asshole. While Daryl mostly looked like a wild animal locked in the cage.

He watched your people with squinted eyes, never letting anyone come closer or touch him. He didn’t talk to any of you but argued with his brother. You saw them bickering a few times, but even then he wasn’t the one starting the fight. He followed his brother anywhere and everywhere he’d go, never saying anything, while Merle did whatever he wanted, mocking Daryl, calling him names, not giving a shit about his brother. And you didn’t get it.

Though Shane let the brothers stay, everyone kept their distance from them. Merle was rough and even violent but Daryl constantly provided for the group, going hunting, so nobody could find the courage to make them leave. Daryl was strong, smart. He was a survivor. And every time you watched him, you couldn’t help but think that he was practically built for this world. His hunting and tracking skills made him fast and silent, and his ability to shoot a crossbow made him one of few who could protect themselves in the world like that.

You never really spoke to Daryl, only making sure both his brother and he had food and a spot to sleep on, which always resulted in Merle constantly teasing and catcalling you. Daryl, though, never said a single word. But once that new guy, Rick Grimes, joined your group and Merle went missing, you felt the urge to somehow support him, to tell him, it was gonna be okay. Everybody had lost something or someone. Now, you had to stick together to survive, and that meant being there for each other when one needed it. With Merle sticking around it was simply impossible. But once he was gone, you felt like it was the right time. What you didn’t expect was Daryl snapping and shouting at you, basically telling you to back off.

Even without his brother Daryl wasn’t friendly, he wasn’t open about his feelings and that made him a damn mystery you couldn’t help but wanted to solve. Though, while you tried your best to know him, Daryl seemed to hate you.

When everything started to go south, your relationship seemed to change though. Your camp was overrun. Amy died. Jim was bitten. And Carol had to kill her husband. You lost control over the situation. That’s when the realization of how scary the world had become dwelled on you.

You were sitting on the ground, Sophia sleeping on your lap. The poor girl had been crying for hours before she finally dozed off in your arms from exhaustion. Carol needed time to calm down too, so you decided to look after the kid on your own, though your mind was a mess too. You still couldn’t believe that they died. You knew Amy and her sister right from the start of your group, Ed too, though you never liked him. And now they were gone. Jim was going to die too, as he was getting worse in a matter of hours. You couldn’t help a shudder running down your spine. How you were even supposed to survive? You barely made it out alive that night and there were more nights like that coming.

You were lost in your thoughts, watching Glenn and Rick drawing geeks’ bodies to the pile. Somebody insisted on burning them. A gruff voice coming from behind made you jump.

“Ya a’right?”

You didn’t believe your eyes, as you blankly stared at Daryl. He was standing a few steps away from you, watching you with narrowed eyes, though he didn’t seem hostile or mad.

You shrugged, looking at Sophia. She lightly stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake up. You were afraid she wasn’t gonna pull through after what happened.

“What are we going to do?” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

“Rick wants to keep going. Head to Atlanta”

You frowned, “What for?”

“CDC” he muttered, looking closely at you.

Center for Disease Control, right. That could be your second chance.

You hadn’t thought of it before, but now with Daryl mentioning that to you, you felt hope rising in your heart. Maybe you could make it out alive, maybe there still were doctors, maybe the cure existed. In that case, Jim could still be saved. The thought of it made you smile and pull Sophia closer to you. You wanted to ask Daryl whether he was alright too but it was too late, you saw him already walking away.

His sudden behavior surprised you. He never talked to you, let alone checking on you. But something in his voice made you think he actually cared. But more than that, it made you think that maybe all of your attempts weren’t a waste.

***

Jim died. He killed himself with a gun that Rick had given him, before you could get to CDC. You didn’t think it could be any worse.

Sophia was clutching into you, shaking and crying when you were staying in front of the metal doors, walkers surrounding you. Shane and Daryl were shooting dead ones one after another while Rick was trying to reach out to anyone alive behind those doors. And you couldn’t stop tears of relief streaming down your face when you finally made it in. That’s when you caught Daryl looking at you. He did that on the stops during your ride too, watching you closely, much rarely asking if you were doing okay. It wasn’t much but you were grateful for those tiny pieces of conversation you had. You finally felt like Daryl was one of you, despite Shane trying to prove the exact opposite. And Daryl seemed to get that as well.

No matter how hard he tried or wanted to, he couldn’t explain it to himself why it bothered him so much. Merle was gone and he had every right to leave your group behind, to be on his own as he had always been. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he started watching you. You were one of few, if not the only, who still tried to know him. Ever since Dixons joined the group, everyone seemed to be afraid of them, never talking, always avoiding them. And Daryl was a-okay with that. But then you started talking to him. You were bringing dinner, always making sure both he and Merle had enough to be able to go hunting the next morning, you’d make sure both of them would come back to the camp uninjured.

You had always been kind. You cared. And Daryl didn’t understand why. No one ever cared for him, and even his elder brother, if he cared, did it in a special, sometimes cruel manner. So when, after Merle's disappearance, you tried to talk to him, Daryl didn’t know where to go. He was afraid. And your behavior made him want to go into the woods and never come back. Daryl honestly wanted to. But then for some reason, he’d remember your sad eyes, looking after him, and again he’d go back.

Merle saw the changes in his brother and didn’t miss the opportunity to poke or make fun of him. But when Merle no longer hung around, Daryl suddenly felt completely vulnerable in a vast expanse. That night when your camp was overrun, Daryl found himself unconsciously looking for you in the crowd of people and the dead. Hoping you were safe.

He was drawn to you like a magnet, and he couldn’t stop. Every time he saw you caring for Sofia, or helping other women in the group when you laughed and smiled, his heart would skip a beat. Daryl still couldn’t solve one simple riddle. He still couldn’t understand why you weren’t afraid of him. Why didn't you hate him?

***

As they say, nothing lasts forever and the CDC was left behind.

When Dr. Jenner revealed all the cards, when the truth came out, it seemed to you that the earth had gone from under your feet. Everything you aspired to turned out to be a lie. There was no magic cure for the virus. No one and nothing could save those who were infected.

For a second, when the CDC building started the process of self-destruction, you wanted to stay. Like Jackie did. Everything seemed meaningless.

And exactly when only seconds were left before the explosion, Daryl was there. He tugged at your hand, dragging you behind him. The blast wave subsequently threw both of you through a broken window. Daryl, not knowing why himself, saved your life.

It was strange and impossible, but you and Daryl got closer after that, while you were on the road. Daryl looked after you every time you made the next stop. And you kept wondering why he had saved you. You still barely spoke, but even the silence between you now felt differently. You trusted him. And Daryl seemed calmer when he was around you.

Then Sofia disappeared. A common tragedy made you join others to find her. And no matter how Daryl was indignant, you still followed him into the forest, feeling incredibly guilty. You hadn’t watched her. You didn’t save the girl. And Daryl seemed to read you like an open book.

‘’s not your fault” he once said when your group was left far behind and the two of you went forward.

Then Carl was shot. You found Greene farm. Renewed your searches for Sofia. Daryl almost died in the forest when he fell on his own bolt. The barn full of the dead. Sofia….

You didn’t think it could be worse. Carol hadn’t been leaving the house for days. And you still couldn’t fall asleep. You were coming to Daryl at night. There, where he put his camp away from everyone. But even then you couldn’t fall asleep. Daryl's gaze, full of malice and guilt, was imprinted in your memory, making your heart hurt mercilessly.

And again you were forced to flee. The farm has fallen. Patricia was torn apart right in front of you. Andrea never made it back. You barely made it out alive.

On the road, things got worse. The nights got colder, there were more and more of walkers stumbling their way to you.

On especially chilly nights, when you couldn’t stop the trembling in your body, you were coming to him again, lying down closely next to him. And Daryl allowed. He no longer flinched at your touch, didn’t scowl, didn’t sneer. He just looked like a beaten dog who didn’t understand how could anyone love him.

You realized that you were falling for him by the time you occupied the prison. You were almost physically hurt by the fact that Daryl didn’t see, didn’t understand why he was loved. He would run off to the forest in the morning, spending most of his time hunting. The only people he allowed closer were Rick, Carol, and you. He scowled at the others with an unkind grin, as if expecting the worst.

He was different with you. He was soft and vulnerable. For all the time that you were together, Daryl had never let anyone get so close to his soul. You made him open up. You made him feel something that he couldn't explain at all. He was afraid of these feelings to the point of weakness in his knees. Like a wild beast afraid of fire. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to.

He was coming into your cell at night, sitting down, and sometimes lying on the floor, listening to your stories about life from before.

And on especially cold nights, when you were left alone at the guard tower, he would come to keep you company. He always came, no matter how much he got tired after hunting or a recent supple run.

Daryl often gave you his poncho. And each time he saw you wearing it, his heart did strange things in his chest. Something that heart shouldn’t do. He let you fall asleep on his shoulder; because very soon Daryl realized that there was nothing more beautiful than your sleepy and slightly gloomy face when you wake up. Well, perhaps only your calm face, when you’d accidentally fall asleep on his chest, curled next to his side.

And most of all, Daryl was afraid that sooner or later you would leave. Come to your senses. Remember who he was. And you would never talk to him again. Daryl figured he wouldn’t have pulled through if that ever happened.

***

Virus. Cold. War with the Governor. Hershel. Merle. Fucking freak Merle...

The prison fell before you could even enjoy having the roof over your head. Daryl saw you in one instant, in another - you were gone. He ran after Beth, looking around, again and again, screaming your name. But the answer was nothing. He returned there a few days later, only to find your handkerchief, which you so loved to tie on your wrist, and to understand that you were gone. Right from that moment, Daryl knew he was a goner.

***

You didn’t know how much time you had been wandering from one place to another. A few weeks? A month? A whole year? It felt like infinity and you were completely alone.

The pistol you had found ran out of bullets a long time ago and was useless. You were beyond exhausted, starving, weak. After the prison, you managed to join a group of survivors but they didn’t last long. You were surprised they even made it that far. Since then, you were alone. Going from one town to another, hoping it wouldn’t be overrun and plunderers hadn’t got their hands on it yet.

One day would slowly turn into another, as it was the same scenario. As time passed, you learned that it was no longer safe to stay the night on the ground in your state. Now you’d climb a tree, your hands bleeding and in bruises, prop yourself against its trunk, tying the rope you had found around your middle to keep you in place. That was the closest to safety you could provide to yourself. You were too weak to fight off a group of five, let alone larger herds. You couldn’t run either. So instead of risking, you’d stay in that position for hours, letting yourself fall back in and out of conciseness.

Your situation came to the worst when you ran out of all canned goods and water you’d managed to scavenge. And right when you felt the panic overwhelming you, you saw it. The gates.

“Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the lost. Vengeance for the plunderers”

You stumbled to the doors, feeling your heart beating somewhere in your throat. If that wasn’t your chance, then you could already consider yourself dead. You wouldn’t last any longer. You saw a slight movement on one of the guard posts. It was so invisible, blink-and-you-miss-it kind of shit. But you saw it and cried without thinking twice, calling for whoever was there.

“Who’s that?” you heard man’s voice from inside, and you almost died right here and then. It had been too long since you heard anyone’s else voice.

“Please!” you begged your voice hoarse, scratching down your throat. “Please, help me!”

Silence followed. You tried again. And then again. But nothing happened. Whoever was behind those walls seemed to disappear.

Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you fell on your knees, hitting the ground with your fists, screaming from pain and desolation. It could not be happening. After everything you had been through, you could go crazy, sure, but it couldn’t happen that way. You poisoned mind simply couldn’t give you hope only to take it away and destroy you to the bones.

Groaning and shuffling from behind made you turn around. Walkers were getting closer. Lots of them, they probably came to the sound of your cries. You whipped away your tears, glancing once again to the gates, getting up. Anger mixed with resentment and pain boiled your blood, as you pulled out your knife. Tears were still falling when you tried to get yourself together. You were barely holding on.

One of them got too close but fell on the ground before it could bite you, a katana stuck in his skull. You lifted your gaze from it just in time to see a woman practically screaming to your face, “Go. Now!”

You ran, grabbing your backpack, stumbling and almost tripping over. Once gone through the gates, you fell, your body giving in. You didn’t see people gathering around you, as you closed your eyes and the only thing you could do was whispering “thank you” over and over again.

“She can’t even stand!” somebody said.

Your hearing wasn’t good either; you thought you went deaf as suddenly all the noises became muffled by the sound of blood in your ears.

“Come on now. What’s your name?”

“Y/N… Name’s Y/N” you managed to say, finally opening your eyes. The same woman that saved your ass a few moments ago was now sitting in front of you. She watched you with squinted eyes, but then nodded, helping you to get up.

“Alright, Y/N, I’m gonna get you to the infirmary. You need medical attention”

You whispered another “thank you”, not trusting your voice anymore. You wanted to ask the woman for her name, but another voice didn’t let you do that.

“Michonne, are you alright? What’s going on here?”

Even with a sharp pain throbbing in your head, you managed to make out the words. You focused your misty eyes on the man approaching you. His voice all of the sudden was oddly familiar, and your eyes widened in pure shock as you stared at him once he was close enough.

“Rick?” you managed to say, your voice breaking.

Rick Grimes, who was standing in front of you, tilted his head, startled. He was taking in your features and you could tell the exact moment his expression turned from confusion to realization.

“Y/N?”

The next thing you knew, Rick was squeezing you in his embrace, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Goddamn, how’s that even possible?” he muttered under his breath, nodding to the woman, whose name, you figured, was Michonne. “I’ll take her. She’s good”

Rick walked you down the place, his arm wrapped around your middle. He was glancing worryingly at you from time to time, clearly still shocked. As for you, you couldn’t believe it either. You made yourself believe that your family was long gone, and you’d never find them again. Ever. But here you were. Rick was flesh and bone present next to you.

Thoughts piled in your head, haunting. But no matter how much you wanted to ask about the place where you ended up, about how Rick got here, you felt like your head and your eyelids were becoming heavy with every minute from experienced emotions. You were on the verge of physical and emotional exhaustion. And the only thing that you still had some strength for was to move your legs so that Rick didn’t have to carry you on him.

“Shit, there’s so much I gotta ask you, but let’s get you to Doc first, alright?” Rick asked, seeing you nodding weakly. “You look like you gonna pass out.”

“Rick? The hell’s goin’ on, man?”

That was the last straw. Your knees simply couldn’t hold you any longer as you leaned on Rick completely.

That voice. After prison, you made yourself forget him forever. Thinking that he died, like the others. You heard him in your nightmares and the dead silence of the forest, losing your mind over and over again. And here it was again. You heard him again. Tears poured out of your eyes with new force, as soon as you raised them.

Daryl stood a few steps away from you and Rick. All the same vest with wings and a crossbow behind, unless his hair seemed much longer now.

He looked from you to Rick; his eyes were wide open as if he was afraid that if he closed them even for a moment, then everything would be gone.

“Daryl” you called, and that was enough for him to come out of his stupor.

Rick hardly had time to let go of you, when Daryl's body crashed into yours. He squeezed you in his arms. Pain with renewed vigor gripped your body, making you groan, but you couldn’t think of anything else but the heat radiating from the body in front of you.

You couldn’t help but started to cry again, bringing your arms to hesitantly hug him back. Daryl hid his face in the crook of your neck, his whole body shaking with quiet sobs. He pulled away from you, his arms never leaving your body, only to catch your eyes. His own were full of tears.

“I… I thought… the prison, it fell… and I…” you tried to bring yourself to talk, but there wasn’t enough air.

Daryl pulled you into him so that your head was pressed into his chest, stroking your hair with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around your back. His eyes were closed.

Daryl was a coward. But only in a sense that he couldn’t bring himself to open them again. For months now he had been thinking about you gone, and he couldn’t forgive himself. And now, just when he started to slowly lose his mind, you were back. Weak, pale, injured, but alive and back. Daryl was afraid to open his eyes only to find himself lying down in the bed in one of Alexandria’s houses. Alone.

“Brother” Rick’s soft voice brought him back to reality.

You closed your eyes, feeling how the darkness gradually enveloped everything around. Already in a semi-conscious state, you felt how Daryl picked you up in his arms. He made it so easily as if you didn’t weigh more than a child. You only managed to hug him by the neck, snuggling closer to his body when Daryl's quiet, hoarse voice pierced through.

“’M here. I gotcha. I gotcha, girl"

After that, everything sunk into the darkness.

***

You barely opened your eyes. Consciousness returned slowly and reluctantly. It took you a few minutes to finally come to your senses and remember the events of the previous day. Or a few days? Your heart started to beat faster.

You turned your head, a stupid smile immediately spread over your face. Daryl sat leaning in a chair next to the hospital bed you were lying on. His eyes were closed. One hand laid on his knees. The other held yours. His fingers were laced with yours.

You took the moment to look at his features. Daryl was still the same Daryl that you knew from the time of the camp near Atlanta. His hair was a little longer now, the circles under his eyes were darker, but he was still pretty darn cute.

You gently squeezed his hand in yours. Daryl instantly opened his eyes, straightening up in the chair and scanning the room for any danger. Only after a few seconds did his gaze finally fell on you.

“Y/N?”

You smiled weakly, still not trusting your voice, afraid to burst out crying the moment you say his name.

“Ya scared the shit outta me,” Daryl admitted. His hand never left yours as his thumb was rubbing circles on your skin.

“I’m sorry” you whispered back, shifting on the bed, Daryl instantly helping you to sit up.

His face was suddenly inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but bite your lower lip at the thought of how long you’d wanted you to be together. How you wanted him to finally kiss you.

All your emotions and feelings were flooding back at you once you saw him.

Daryl fell quiet, he watched you as if trying to decide something in his mind.

But then, his hand was cupping your face so gently, as he leaned closer to you to the point where you could feel his breathing on your skin. Daryl searched for your eyes, giving you enough time and space to move away. Not like you wanted to.

And then finally, his lips touched yours.

You kissed as if the world ended on the two of you. As if it was your last day on Earth. And when you finally pulled away for air, Daryl tilted his head just the slightest so that his forehead touched yours.

“I’m back and I found you” you whispered to him, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

Daryl shook his head lightly, pulling you into him, hugging and whispering back, “Ya were never gone”.

A corner of your handkerchief was sticking out from the back pocket of his pants. The one you had dropped, trying to escape what you used to call your home.

#the walking dead #the walking dead request #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #reader #request

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

One-Shot #3 [NSFW]

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Smut

You moaned, biting your lip as another wave of pleasure went through your body. You were lying on your side, Daryl behind you, thrusting deep into you. Your whole body was too sensitive, and Daryl’s touch felt like fire on your skin. You couldn’t think of anything else, whispering his name again and again like a mantra. Daryl’s breathing behind you was ragged as he was groaning with every movement of his hips. You felt your muscles tensing up as you reached your high. You were too overwhelmed, trying to catch you breathe, that you didn’t notice Daryl going still behind you. His arm was wrapped tightly around your middle as he didn’t keep on going. You frowned in confusion, looking over your shoulder at him. You could tell he wasn’t finished yet as you felt his throbbing shaft inside you. The realization made you worry as you feared that you’d done something wrong.

“Daryl?” you called, moving just the slightest to look at the man, involuntary moving your hips.

“Don’t,” he hissed, gripping your hip and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You went still, your confusion only getting worse. Daryl didn’t let go of you, making it almost impossible to move.

“Daryl, what’s wrong?” you asked, looking blankly in front of you.

Daryl’s arm returned to its place on your stomach, holding you securely against his broad chest. His bare skin hot against yours.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “I wanna cum so damn much.”

“Do you… Do you want me to..?” you asked, having no idea of what could cause Daryl to act like that. You felt him shaking his head.

“I wanna cum inside you so bad,” he said, his voice barely above the whisper. You froze.

In the world, you were living in, even such an ordinary thing as a condom became a rareness. Though nobody, as it had been before, wanted to take any risks. You had to be careful.

When you and Daryl had sex, he’d usually pull out before finishing with his hand, or having you helping him. He’d never come inside of you. He’d never asked to. Neither had you. There were more important things in the world and making a family in the middle of it wasn’t the best idea. Though, now everything changed.

This time Daryl didn’t pull out, staying inside of you. But neither did he came. It took him all of his will power not to thrust back at your welcoming heat. He started to nibble on your neck, rubbing up and down on your skin as if not sure where to put his hands. He closed his eyes trying to distract himself from your hot body pressed against his.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you slowly moved away, making Daryl slip out of you, making him whimper. You turned on your other side, taking in Daryl’s ashamed expression, cupping and lifting his chin to make him look at you. You searched for his eyes, but Daryl kept looking away, biting his lip. He expected you to shout at him, to be angry at least, or leave. But he couldn’t help it. Ever since your group had found a decent place to settle down, he had been thinking about starting something with you. A proper family, maybe. What he didn’t expect though, was you chuckling softly at him.

“Hey,” you called, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. “You know you can, right?” you asked, giving him a small smile.

Daryl thought he had misheard you. But seeing you looking lovingly at him made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe it as he moved closer, looking into your eyes. He thought you were messing up with him, but there was nothing else than love and care.

“’S that so?” he asked shyly. “Ya’d want that? With me?”

He hated how small he sounded. But there was no confidence left in him as he couldn’t believe you’d want to have anything with him. He was overthinking again, feeling self-conscious.

You brought both of your hands to his face, pulling him so that his face was closer to yours. You smiled sweetly at him before leaning and whispering to his ear, “There’s no other man I’d wanted this with than you.”

Daryl felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He watched you shifting on the bed, calling for him.

“Come here now, seems like you need it.”

Daryl scooted over you again, kissing you on the lips, whispering his most heartful thanks over and over again.

It only took him a few deep thrusts. He came with the low growl, that Daryl muffled into your chest. You stroked his hair, as his body was shaking, coming down from its high. Daryl could barely hold himself on his arms so as not to crush you under his weight when he laid beside you, panting. You watched him with a stupid smile on your face, feeling like the luckiest person alive. You closed your eyes, rubbing your hands up and down your stomach, thinking of all the times Daryl made you feel so happy.

You opened your eyes just in time to see Daryl staring at you. He was looking down ar your inner thighs, where his cum was leaking out of you. You spread your legs just a little bit, teasing him. Daryl’s face turned red as you caught him staring. You just chuckled at his reaction, moving closer to him and lying down on his chest. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you protectively. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, a small smile tugged in the corner of his mouth.

“Guess, that’s how we’re building the future,” you chuckled, making Daryl roll his eyes.

“Stop it,” he mumbled, though the tips of his ears turned pink.

“I love you,” you murmured, closing your eyes and letting his steady breathing cradle you to sleep.

“Love ya.”

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #reader #smut

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

A lot about living [SFW]

A standalone story #1

Part 1 Part 2

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing

“Daryl?”

“Mhm…”

You were lying on Daryl’s bare chest, absentmindedly drawing circles on his skin. His arms tightly wrapped around you, legs tangled with yours, your bodies partly covered by the sheet. Daryl’s eyes closed as he was breathing steadily.

“If I asked you something, would you do that for me?” you whispered, not hoping for an answer as Daryl was already dozing off.

“Wha’ kind of of the question is that?” he mumbled, his voice sending vibrations through his chest.

“Just answer,” you shrugged, lifting your head from his chest, searching for his eyes.

Daryl unwrapped his arms reluctantly, opening his eyes and watching you move away.

You laid on your side, watching Daryl’s chest rise slowly with every breathe. His hands were now laying on his stomach as he watched you sleepily.

“Will you promise me something?” you asked, biting your lower lip.

Daryl turned on his side, taking in your worried expression. He looked so calm and relaxed, for the first time in months, and you felt wrong for ruining the moment. But ever since the two of you got together, your mind was trouble. Losing people in the world like that wasn’t anything unnatural. But it still hurt every time. And the thing was, you could never be ready. You couldn’t possibly be prepared to lose another person. It used to be easier when you were alone.

Now, it seemed like every day could be your last. And you knew, sooner or later your day would come.

Daryl looked at you closely, propping himself on the elbow, and nodded.

“Promise me that if - if I…” you swallowed, looking away, trying to get yourself together. “Promise that if I get bit, you wouldn’t be the one to put me down.”

For some reason, you knew that you’d be the one to go down first. You weren’t a hunter, like Daryl, you weren’t a great soldier like Rick was. Sure, you were doing your best, but sooner or later, that wouldn’t be enough. The death, though, wasn’t the hardest part. You die, and that’s it. Putting someone down was worse. It was unfair. You saw what it did to people. You saw what it did to Carl back at the prison, you saw, what it did to Michonne or Rick. There was no coming back from that. Once you’ve done it, it will be eating you alive forever. Especially if that was someone you loved.

You were weaker, younger, not fast enough, not strong enough. And that made you an easy target for the world. You knew you’d go down first, and the last thing you wanted was Daryl putting you down.

“What?” Daryl’s eyes widened in shock as all the sleepiness left his body. “Ya bit?!”

You shook your head, placing a hand on Daryl’s chest to calm him down, still not looking at him. “No…”

“Then why the fuck would ya even say that?” Daryl didn’t give you time to finish, cupping your face and searching for your eyes as if trying to get instant answers.

“Daryl…” you sighed, placing your hand over his. “You know, sooner or later, what we are doing right now won’t be enough. You know that, right? We can’t pretend that things won’t change. They will. And people are going to die.”

Daryl let go of you, still listening to your speaking and chewing on his lower lip, as if trying to figure something out.

“I’m so scared,” you admitted, finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t wanna die and, hell, I trust you to keep me safe, I do… But if - if something happens, promise, It won’t be you.”

Daryl remained silent while you felt like crying.

“Daryl, promise… Just, please” you pleaded, shifting closer and taking his hand in yours. “If that happens, you just keep going. Otherwise, it’ll end you.”

The silence between the two of you seemed to last forever.

You were lost in your thoughts again when you felt Daryl squeezing your hand. He then quietly nodded, understanding.

“I promise.”

***

The road home passed in silence. No one said a word. On the radio, they reported about two dead from another group. Two men of Alexandria. While, exhausted, covered in blood and mud, your people were going home.

You were lagging at the end of the group, not realizing what was happening around. The pain pulsed somewhere in the head but you couldn’t really tell, whether it was from stress or anything else.

You clutched the shirt, not daring to look down. The fabric of the T-shirt that you’d put on under your shirt was wet. The rising wind chilled the skin and didn’t give any rest. No matter how hard you tried.

When you arrived in the community, you were still not looking in front of you. The thud of the closing gate brought you back to reality. Before anyone could see, you ran. Only when you came home did you finally allow yourself to exhale. The throbbing pain in your side was getting worse.

There was nobody at home and you quickly locked yourself in the bathroom on the second floor. You leaned on the sink, catching your breath and trying to gather your thoughts, but your heart was about to burst in your chest. It seemed that your whole body was on fire, and the blood was rustling somewhere in your ears.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you still didn’t dare to look in the mirror. You were on the edge. Your brain randomly rushed from one thought to another, trying to find a solution, at least something that could prove that it was only a nightmare. It just couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t you. You shook your head, hoping to wake up somewhere in your bed, but nothing happened, and only then did you finally raise your eyes.

Your hands were trembling. You slowly began to unfasten the buttons of your shirt. Your fingers were stiff. Eventually, the fabric was on the floor. You didn’t have to look at it the second time, the traces of teeth were still imprinted in your memory. Your black T-shirt was covered with dust from the road and only your right side was dark with blood.

Your head was dizzy. And you felt like something was choking you. The sudden lack of air made you hyperventilate. You recoiled in horror from the sink, opening and closing your mouth, trying to catch the air. Panic instantly gripped you. Tears were streaming down your face as you covered your mouth, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your whole body was shaking with your muffled cries and you couldn’t stop it.

It felt like it was already ending. You felt like dying. And more than ever you wanted to scream until you’d lose your voice. If that was how your life was supposed to end, if that was the end, you regretted so many things. And more than ever before you wanted Daryl to be here. You wanted him to hold you as you’d go weaker, apologizing over and over again. You regretted fighting with him, and you were so damn ashamed of never trying to make things better.

Before you could stop yourself from doing it, you grabbed your T-shirt, raising it.

***

Carol ran into the bathroom. She was in the kitchen when she heard your screaming. You didn’t notice her when you came home, rushing upstairs. Carol simply didn’t follow. Your scream had nearly scared her to death. Her heart almost stopped when she saw you lying on the floor. She couldn’t tell if you were crying or laughing, you were covering your face with your hands.

Carol’s gaze darted to the pile of clothes near the bathtub. Your upper body was practically naked as there was only a sports bra left on you. On top of the pile, there was your shirt, covered in blood.

“Y/N!"

In a split second Carol was on her knees beside you, pushing your hands away from your face. Her worried gaze met your red misty eyes, as she made you sit up straight. That’s when she saw it. Your right side was bleeding.

"Look at me. Y/N, look at me! Are you bit?"

You started coughing, trying to bring yourself together. And before you could stop her, Carol took your T-shirt, making pressure on your wound. She then took it away but only to wash away all the blood. And there it was. The ugly cut on your right side and parted stitches.

***

It took you almost an hour to finally calm down while you were sitting in the infirmary with Carol and Denise by your side.

"I’m sorry I scared the shit out of the both of you,” you whispered, feeling exhausted. Denise had just sutured your wound. The was no damn bite.

“You freaked out,” Denise shrugged, handing you a glass of water and two pills. “Here, take these, they’ll help."

She then nodded to Carol, leaving the two of you. It’s only when you were leaving the infirmary, she turned around, calling your name.

"You’d better stay away from anything related to runs or fighting. And you’d better promise me you won’t do anything stupid again.”

You were walking down the streets of Alexandria, towards your house. Carol was by your side, watching you closely in case you were going to pass out. The blood loss was serious but you refused to stay in the infirmary.

“So that was it?” she asked after some time.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That bastard couldn’t even bite me properly. Just ripped off the stitches.”

Carol chuckled softly but then her expression turned serious again.

“Rick should have never let you or Glenn go out there. You hadn’t properly healed yet, and that’s what happened. It was too dangerous. You simply got lucky, you know that.”

You remained silent but nodded. You understood it, more than clearly. That was your second chance in life.

“I don’t get it, though” Carol muttered when you finally made it inside your house.

“Don’t get what?” you wondered, leaning on the wall as the nagging pain ran through your side.

“How did Daryl let that happen.”

You froze. It had been a long time since Carol talked about the two of you for the last time. She no longer tried to bring up the subject. Things were different then.

Your heart missed a beat when you heard his name. Your recent near-death experience made you think about your relationship with the man.

It was in the morning the same day when the two of you faced each other for the first time in a while. There, in the kitchen of your house, you exchanged a few words about the upcoming mission and then, in just a few hours you had a close call. You could have died today. And understanding that those few words could have been your last made you regret not trying to reach out for Daryl sooner. You missed him. And probably, that was the right time for you to swallow your pride and talk.

“He didn’t know” you muttered, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I - I didn’t tell anybody, so he couldn’t know it.”

Carol hummed, sending you a stern look, but didn’t say anything.

“You think, I should tell him?”

***

You woke up in the middle of the night, shaking. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. At first, you couldn’t tell the reality apart from your nightmare. In your dream, you were running but your legs seemed to have turned into stone. Walkers were everywhere, clattering and grabbing your limbs with their rotten arms. You couldn’t move and you couldn’t scream as they were coming closer and closer, surrounding you, leaving no place.

Sharp pain in your side helped you get yourself together. You needed to calm down. The memories of the day were flooding back again.

As calmly as you only could, you went downstairs, hoping that a glass of cold water would help you. Each step was sending a flood of pain to your side, but you didn’t want to stay in the room.

You only left a few steps when you saw it. From the stairs, you could see the small living room, kitchen and dining table, which was placed in front of the window. The faint light allowed you to see the dark silhouette. You held your breath, afraid to make any movement. You immediately regretted that you didn’t carry your knife around anymore, as panic washed over you. But something about that silhouette made you stop. You slowly made your way towards the man sitting at the table, not believing what you saw.

Daryl was sitting at the table, his shaggy hair covering his face. Even with a small amount of light coming from the window you could see a bottle in front of him. Daryl didn’t notice you as he grabbed it, taking a sip.

From where you were standing, you couldn’t see his face, but the way his whole body was shaking made your eyes widen in shock. Daryl was crying. He made no sound as another silent cry left his mouth, though even from a distance you could hear his heavy breathing.

Your body went numb.

“Daryl?”

***

At that point, you couldn’t even remember the original reason that had started the fight. But somehow it just ended with both of you screaming at each other.

“I’m sick of you running away! I want to kiss you when I want to, and not when there’s no one around. And I want to hug you when you come home from your run, and not when we’re alone in our room. In case you haven’t noticed, every single soul in the community knows what we are!”

It was an ordinary morning but then everything seemed to be against you. Carol left, leaving the two of you for good, but instead of talking you ended up in the fight.

“What is your fucking problem?!"

"There ain’t no problem!” Daryl yelled back at you, scowling. “Go to yer friends over there, ya sure as hell enjoy their company more!”

“For God’s sake, Daryl! Where did that come from?” you demanded, coming closer. “There ain’t no friends there.”

Daryl just huffed in annoyance, waving a finger in your face. “That’s cause ya ashamed of me, right? There ain’t no place for a fine woman like you with some filthy redneck. ’S cause they call ya like tha’, right?”

Daryl started to act differently after a few months of living in Alexandria. He would distance himself from you whenever it was possible. And you couldn’t understand why. He no longer would open up about his worries and insecurities. And that was frustrating. Until the problem revealed itself in that fight.

“What?!” you exclaimed. “You really think that? You’re the one who has to flinch every time I touch you!”

“Well, ya pretty happy to touch anyone else here! So why dontcha go ta Rick or yer buddy Heath? They sure as hell don’t seem broken to you” he spatted back, turning away from you, breathing heavily with anger.

You felt your eyes filling with tears. It hurt to hear Daryl saying that to your face. There was never a single reason for him to accuse you of cheating. You couldn’t do that to both of you. As well as you were sure of Daryl’s loyalty to you. You loved him more than anyone else but sometimes you simply couldn’t deal with him.

“That’s how little you think of me?” you asked bitterly, swallowing back your tears. “I’ve already proved to you that I love you. I did it many times. And I still can count on my hand all the times you told me that. And I’m not the one questioning your feelings right now.”

You shook your head, looking away and trying to calm down. Every time you let a shaky breath you just felt like bursting out. While Daryl still didn’t look at you. He was now standing further from you, chewing on his lower lip, lost in his thoughts.

“Daryl… It can’t keep going like that” you whispered not trusting your breaking voice.

“Nah” he rasped out.

You closed your eyes, feeling small. “I hate you doing this to us. And I hate that still, after all we’ve been through, you won’t believe me,” you exhaled, gathering all your will power not to cry. “I want us to keep on going but I can’t do this alone. I can’t, Daryl… Are we on the same page here? Are you with me?”

Daryl wasn’t moving, watching you with squinted eyes.

“That’s it, then? You want this over?”

You watched Daryl’s whole body tensing up at your words. He stood there motionless for another minute. His eyes were going between you and his vest hanging on the chair. You waited, afraid he would end your relationship right here and now. Fear made its way to your heart, making it beat faster and faster until you felt its beating somewhere in your throat.

Suddenly, Daryl nodded his head, muttering something under his breath. He grabbed his vest, putting it on his way out of the room. His movements were jerky and fast as if he suddenly felt too uncomfortable being in the same room with you.

“Daryl Dixon!” you called after, making him stop. “If you go out of this room right now, you can never come back again, you hear that?” you yelled, no longer trying to stop yourself from crying.

You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs, watching the man’s back. You thought Daryl would turn around and go back to you. But he didn’t.

Daryl walked out of your room, slamming the door behind him. The sound made you shudder, as you instinctively closed your eyes.

***

Daryl jerked away as if your voice could hit him. You caught him rubbing his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. He instantly was on his feet, stumbling back.

“Daryl? What are you…” you started, coming closer but stopped as you saw Daryl dropping his head to his chest, the bottle still in his hand.

You were standing in front of him, not daring to touch him, instead, trying to look into his eyes. Daryl didn’t look at you, he was still shaking violently. He seemed so small and vulnerable at the moment that you had all your instincts screaming at you to just wrap him in your arms and never leave his side.

“’M sorry” he suddenly whimpered, dropping his head even lower. “’M sorry…�� his voice filled with raw emotions.

Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. You’d never seen him looking so damaged, so broken.

“Daryl, you gotta tell me what this is” you shook your head, bringing your hands to his face, making him look at you.

Daryl instantly moved away from your touch, looking even more ashamed of his reaction.

“Carol… Carol told me,” he said after some time, his voice barely above the whisper. “Y/N… I-I thought… I thought yer…”

You moved before you could even process it, hugging Daryl. He was taken aback by your impulse but instantly relaxed into your touch, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms still by his side.

“I know…” you whispered, fighting back your tears.

You held Daryl closer to you, as he silently cried into your shoulder. The pain in your side became so unnoticeable that you instantly forgot why you were there in the first place.

Neither of you let go of the moment. You were stroking Daryl’s hair, feeling his warm body against yours. You’d missed him so damn much. And feeling him here like that was a blessing, a second chance you never deserved.

Finally, you moved, letting go of Daryl but only to take the bottle, he still had in his hand and put it back on the table. Daryl didn’t fight back, unclenching his fingers.

“I can’t lose ya,” he said. “I couldn’t lose you then, I just… I thought… I ain’t good with that shit. Never was” he mumbled, looking down again.

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek. “None of that, okay? Not now.”

You saw that now. What was slowly killing you all those months. You thought you could get over it, that you could live without him by your side. You thought that he had left because he could live without you. You were wrong. Daryl didn’t leave because he was better without you but because he couldn’t stand that he couldn’t protect you, couldn’t make you happier. And now, after Carol telling him about you, all his deepest fears came flooding back at him. And this time you weren’t there to reassure him, to prove him wrong.

“I love you, you know that, right?” you whispered, searching for his eyes.

Daryl nodded, inhaling slowly. More than anything right now he wanted to hold you close, to tell you all those things he should have said months ago. But before he could do it, you shook your head, smiling softly with that special smile of yours that always made his heart do funny things in his chest.

“We’ll talk, I promise. But not now.”

You turned around, walking back to the stairs. But you stopped when Daryl didn’t follow you.

“I’m not running away,” you explained. “I’m still hurt, and you are too drunk. We’ll sort everything out, but we’ll do it tomorrow.”

Daryl nodded, still standing frozen in his place.

“Come back. I need you” you said, already going upstairs.

***

You were lying in your bed with a nightlight on when you heard the bed squeaking. You smiled sleepily, opening your eyes. Daryl was lying next to you, his eyes still red but he was quiet. You looked into his eyes, finding nothing but love and deep sorrow in them. Daryl was hurting too.

You turned off the light and scooted closer to him, mindful of your side, laying your head on his chest. And this time Daryl didn’t flinch. Instead, he hesitantly hugged you, pulling you closer. And for the first time in months, the other side of the bed wasn’t empty.

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #reader

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

Text

A lot about living [SFW]

A standalone story #1

Part 1 Part 2

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing

Your break-up was like a bolt from the blue to the whole Alexandrian community. It was so unexpected that nobody found the courage to seek for reasons as neither you nor Daryl was open about it. To be precise, it wasn’t like you told them the news, it was more like they saw it. Anyway, it was obvious to every living soul in Alexandria who at least knew your names.

The gossips spread in just a few days. So soon after that, you were catching both interested and terrified gazes from every single human from the place.

You and Daryl were inseparable. You came to Alexandria together. You fought together. You were on supply runs together. You even shared a home, living with Carol. And, well, needless to say, that you shared the bed too. And soon after your arrival, the locals got one thing, it was practically impossible to see either of you walking down the streets of Alexandria alone. People were intrigued by the relationship you seemed to have. Women in the community would look after both of you walking shoulder to shoulder with bitterness. And, well, both of you heard enough shit about yourselves. Filthy redneck, stupid bitch… People were judging. They gave you names. Not like it bothered you, but sometimes you wished, you could get away from that.

Your group, on the other hand, was more than happy to see you two together. After months of dancing around each other during the prison time, you two finally made sense of it. You had never given it the name, but it was always there. He was yours, and you belonged to him.

But then, in a split second, it was over.

***

You overslept. You knew that the moment you opened your eyes. The sun’s rays pierced your eyes. You had absolutely no desire to get out of bed. Another day, another routine, it started to be exhausting.

Alexandria was extremely short on supplies. People had to go out the gates almost every single day to find food or medication, and Alexandrians’ inability to fight only dramatized the situation. After the recent events of dealing with bigger herds near the community, your people couldn’t risk going out alone no more. But it wasn’t the same in the beginning. When you saw the place for the first time, it seemed to be a true miracle. Finally, after months of wandering through the woods, your family got a place to call a home.

“Think that’s a good idea?”

“Might be. We have to give the place a chance.”

You were standing on the porch of the house absolutely exhausted. The day was… eventful. New place, new people. Something surreal. Aaron not only took you to Alexandria but was kind enough to tell Diana to give all of you some time. As if he knew that not everybody would like to stay.

“Don’t trust ‘em here.”

You turned your head to Daryl, watching him lighting up a cigarette. He looked tired. He definitely was. He was still wearing his clothes covered in road dirt and dust and walkers’ blood. As if he didn’t care. He probably didn’t, you thought to yourself.

“It’s been too long since we had anything like this. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time we actually slept on something that is not ground or dirt” you chuckled and closed your eyes for a moment. “We need it, Daryl. We may or may not like it, but we need this place.”

Daryl looked back at you, wishing he could just wash away all of the pain and sorrow from your heart. He was new to romantic relationships, but definitely not new to when it came to taking care of people around him, his family. Having something with you meant he didn’t give up. You were still alive. You lost too much after the prison and on the road. People, strength, hope. It was an endless nightmare. And you were right in the middle of it. He just wished he could take all the weariness from you to see you smiling again.

“Ya wanna stay? ’M fine with it then” he said after some time. You just smiled at him tiredly and nodded.

Both of you were silent now. No words needed. The silence was welcomed and even comforting after the open road, where every noise could be the sign of danger. Here, it was calming.

You closed your eyes again. Your whole body ached, but at the same time, you didn’t want to move. You leaned on the railing, hoping to find some relief for you back. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you heard Daryl moving behind you. His hands were now on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. You smiled again, melting from his touch.

“Ya alright?” he asked when you straightened up and turned around to face him. He must have seen something in your eyes, something that made him all shy and uncertain again. The change was so visible that it made you frown. But before you could ask, Daryl kissed you. It was just a peck on the lips, but it was there. Daryl instantly moved away, hiding his head in the crook of your neck.

“I’m here,” you whispered, smiling softly and hesitantly hugging him. “We are here.”

You tried to sit up, instantly regretting the idea. Your whole body was sore from yesterday’s run. Pain in your shoulder was still sharp too. The deep cut there would take a hell lot of time to heal.

You didn’t feel like leaving your room. You rubbed your eyes and face several times, trying to concentrate but every time ended up looking blankly at the ceiling. A sticky feeling settled in your heart. You turned to the side, mindful of the injury, and stared at the second pillow lying next to yours. The other side of the bed was empty.

Walking down the stairs, you spotted Carol fussing in the kitchen.

“Thought you’d wake me up.”

“Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart,” Carol smiled, ignoring your small complaint. “You needed to sleep, though. Yesterday was a close call, you know that.”

“It’s the third time I’m missing the morning training. I’m starting to get sick of it” you answered, pouring yourself a glass of water.

Carol watched you with narrowed eyes. As much as you loved the woman, her new habit of constantly checking on you was pissing you off. She acted as if she knew something you didn’t. And that was annoying as hell.

You tried to ignore her gaze most of the time, but these days it was clearly impossible. And if the calendar thing still existed, you were sure, these days had to be Mondays.

“What are your plans for today?” Carol asked after some time, going back to washing dishes.

“Gonna check on Tara first,” you shrugged. “Might as well go training with Enid. Have to make it up for the last three times.”

Carol frowned at your words but didn’t say anything.

Yesterday you and Tara took one of the cars and went scavenging on your own. You spent several hours, going from one place to another before you finally found a store with some canned goods left. Both of you were exhausted to the bones and finding literally anything was already big luck. So you called it a day.

Though things went south in the end. On your way back you ran into a group of men who more than willingly wanted to take your stuff. The ensuing fight ended with you being stabbed and Tara being shot. The wounds weren’t as terrible as they could be, though you barely made it back to Alexandria. Rick was furious, but that small amount of food you’d managed to find helped you get away without another lecture but with a stern look.

“I thought, you were taking Judith today,” you said, trying to change the topic.

“I am,” Carol dried her hands on the towel and turned around to look at you. “Rick wanted to come by later.”

You grunted in response, making your way to the hall. You didn’t really want to meet Rick after yesterday’s incident, deciding to leave the house as soon as possible.

***

You were putting on your jacket, hissing from the pain in your shoulder, when you heard Carol greeting Rick and Michonne downstairs, and asking Judith to sit on the chair. Yup, that was definitely Monday. Now, there was no chance you could slip away from the house unnoticed. You sighed and silently prayed for some strength, as you left your room.

“Y/N,” Michonne saw you first.

“Morning,” you mumbled before turning your attention to Judith. “Hey there, princess!” you bent over to give her a kiss on the chick. “How are you doing?”

“How’s your shoulder?” Rick’s voice came from behind, making you purse your lips and wince. You really didn’t want to sound mean to anyone, and it wasn’t a personal thing either, but you were definitely in no mood to talk about your well-being.

“I’ll live”, you shrugged it off and headed towards the door, hoping no more questioning would follow.

The problem was that you couldn’t really be mad at them for asking you things. If anything happened to Carol or Rick, or Michonne, you’d want to make sure they were okay too. They were your family. You’d die for them. But you no longer could stand their looks, as if you were dying from some kind of shitty disease. More than that, as if you were broken.

“You going out today?” Michonne asked before you reached the door. “Shouldn’t you be staying at bed?”

“I’m injured, not dying!” you snapped but instantly regretted your flash of anger. “Just wanted to make it up for Enid. Girl’s doing some progress with her knives. Promise I’ll be gentle to myself” you explained, giving Michonne a weak smile, hoping it would be enough for her to leave the subject.

“Y/N,” Rick sighed but slowly nodded to you. “Just be careful, alright?”

You nodded quietly.

Rick was one of the best people you’ve ever met. Great father, friend, leader. You knew he cared for every person in your group. You also knew that he’d be the first to blame himself if anything happened to his family. You didn’t intend to somehow disappoint him by going out alone with Tara. But it was on you now to take care of yourself. Not really for yourself, but for Rick and the others.

Your stream of thoughts was interrupted by the opened door. Daryl stood in the opening with a crossbow on his shoulder. Without dignifying him with either a look or a word, you went outside, hitting his shoulder. He went inside as if nothing happened and, without turning around, hid in one of the rooms, closing the door behind him with a loud knock. The others watched the two of you with intense looks, but no one dared to say anything.

It’s been almost two weeks since your break-up. And almost two weeks since you and Daryl talked.

You ignored each other when you were in the same room, not making the slightest effort at acknowledging other’s presence. Carol was the first one to notice that something about you was wrong. It started the night after your fight when Daryl took the couch downstairs instead of sleeping with you. Carol saw him sleeping early in the morning. It was the first time Daryl didn’t go hunting.

The next thing she noticed was Daryl’s unusual silence. Carol spent almost an hour while cooking breakfast, joking and trying to get any sort of reaction from him. But there was nothing. Not his usual rumbling or annoyed puffing about “damn woman making too much noise in the morning”, nor him looking at her.

It was during breakfast when Carol started to understand the issue. You were having breakfast together, but instead of taking your place at the table next to Daryl, as you would usually do, you took your plate and sat in the armchair, looking away. You didn’t say a single word to Daryl, nor did he to you. Both of you were dead silent, eating your food, eyes glued to the plate. Carol was watching you closely from the corner of her eyes when she noticed how stiff and tensed up you two were. Your red and puffy eyes only made her guesses more clear.

Her assumptions were confirmed the same evening when Daryl again occupied the couch in the living room, and you, having said nothing, locked yourself in your room and didn’t go out until the next morning. You didn’t talk anymore, didn’t look at each other, weren’t interested in telling about your day. And Daryl’s stuff was no longer in your room. Carol noticed that a few days later when she was laying out your washed clothes in the closets.

Daryl increasingly began to go hunting before sunrise and he’d usually return home after sunset. He stubbornly ignored all the questions. And you increasingly began to skip breakfast and dinner, leaving in the morning to train with Enid. Returning home, you never told how your day went, as it was before. Instead, you’d silently clean your gun and go upstairs.

The two of you didn’t go on supply runs together anymore. Rick once mentioned that you even asked him to pair you with someone else.

Both him and Carol, and other people from your group, tried to get to either of you several times. But always ended up empty. Neither of you wanted to touch the subject.

***

Your mutual ignoring lasted for two weeks. It could’ve been a longer period, but you lived under one roof, and somehow you would have to start talking. Eventually, Daryl was the first to break the silence.

“Ya look like shit.”

You were trying to wash the blood from your face when you heard a sarcastic comment from behind. Daryl entered the room, not even bothering for taking off his boots.

“Loot at that, he can talk!” you exclaimed, without looking at the man. “Always know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?”

You probably did look like shit. You just came from another training with Enid. The two of you had been training in the forest for hours when you ran into a small herd. There weren’t many of them, so you decided that it could be a nice practice for Enid to work on her fighting skills. It wasn’t long before all the walkers were killed, though the two of you were covered in blood and dirt.

“Shut it, woman” he growled. “Did you fall into a pit or something?” he added.

“Yeah, exactly,” you said sarcastically, turning around to look at the man. “The fuck’s your problem, Dixon?” you folded your arms, feeling yourself getting angry.

He just dead glared you in response.

That’s when another disaster started.

Daryl and you started playing some sort of a game, the rules of which, as it seemed, were known only to you two. Instead of tacit ignoring, you hit each other with sarcastic comments. All the stress and anger accumulated over the weeks now came out. You’ve never wanted to scream so badly. The two of you in a matter of days turned into those judging assholes you met during your first week in Alexandria. You couldn’t explain why, but it was almost making you feel better about your break-up. As if your now daily fights could heal your broken heart.

While it was the only interaction you two had, the others now had to intervene every time you argued. It started with Carol, lecturing both of you in the morning. You were ashamed of your behavior, sure, but you couldn’t help it. Every time you saw Daryl, you felt like bringing up another reason to make a fight. To get at least that kind of reaction from him. Then, Rick would try too. He still couldn’t assign the two of you on the same shift as it would always lead to another fighting. Neither could he let the two of you alone on the run as you’d probably just kill each other.

At first, it was more like teasing, mocking at best. Though it quickly turned into an absolutely devastating and ugly will to hurt the other. You couldn’t explain that to yourself. You didn’t want to. It still hurt to even look at him, to talk to him.

You tried to suppress any feelings. You forced yourself to hate Daryl with all your heart, just not to feel that pain again. You hated the feeling that all of it was wrong. You hated it, but you couldn’t stop. But even when doubts prevailed and you tried to think rationally, you saw all the same hatred in his eyes. His eyes no longer looked at you with love, as it was when you were together. Daryl didn’t look at you with longing or indifference, as it was after. He was like a stranger. Hostile. And that would force you to crush the tears of resentment and let out another sarcastic comment in his direction. You still hated him. You still hated to feel something for him. And at the end of the day, you were exhausted.

You spent another week or two before you felt both emotionally and physically drained out from your fighting. It came to the point where you wouldn’t even respond to Daryl’s commenting anymore. What felt like a long-awaited relief in the beginning now felt like torture. The never-ending torture. Daryl, on the other side, would still make bitter comments, though he no longer was so angry.

The change didn’t go unnoticed. Rick once shared his observations with Michonne and Carol. He believed that after a sufficiently long period, the two of you could tolerate each other’s company. Or at least could try. And since Alexandria still needed supplies, he took responsibility and called both of you on a morning run.

***

Most of the trip and the run itself went in deathly silence. Neither you nor Daryl said a word while listening to Rick chatting about the future of the community. But at least you didn’t fight, which was a good start.

The situation, however, got out of control on your way back.

“Ya stupid bitch!”

Daryl forcefully slammed the car with his fist, his face red with rage. He was panting as if he had just run a whole marathon. Which was almost true.

“Watch your language, prick!” you shouted back, leaning against the car, trying to catch your breathing.

“What the fuck?! Yer stupid ass almost killed us!” Daryl made his way up you, making you straight up immediately.

“Don’t you dare blame me, Dixon!” you hissed to his face as he came closer. “I didn’t fucking know, alright? You think you’re the smart-ass here?"

“Y/N!” Rick tried to step in but didn’t get a chance to say another word.

“Shut it, Grimes,” you growled, glaring him down. “And you, don’t you fucking dare say that to me!” you returned your attention back to Daryl.

How could you even know? Yes, it was your idea to check out a small village on the way home. But how the hell were you supposed to know that it was there, in this damn village, that you would run into a huge herd? Where you would find yourself in a situation when walking bastards would surround you. That you would hardly have time to get your feet out of there? That’s right, you just couldn’t fucking know that. That was not your mistake. It wasn’t on you.

“Right, because that’s wha’ you do. Ya don’t know shit and you always fuck everything up!” Daryl shouted back, pointing at your with every word. Neither of you cared for making noise that could draw more walkers. Your car was parked far away from the place.

“Is that so? What else exactly did I fuck up, huh?”

Daryl didn’t answer, looking at you intensely.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you nodded to yourself.

And this time you didn’t even try to hide them. You pushed Daryl away from you. You were shaking from resentment and anger. Naturally, you did not plan to lead you in the trap. But the fact that Daryl had just accused you of this made your blood boil. He knew that you would never let this happen. You wouldn’t risk your family. Despite all the skirmishes and quarrels, you trusted each other with your life. But Daryl had just questioned it. It was a blow below the waist.

“Well, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t plan on this!” you turned away, but then turned back, approaching Daryl, wiping away tears. “But you know what? I’ll make sure I let you know the next time I decide to kill you” you spatted to his face.

You stepped back, no longer looking at Daryl, climbed into the passenger seat in the car, slamming the door behind you. The sound of it was even louder in the dead silence.

***

You were at the guard post, sparing Rosita from her night duty when you heard Rick calling your name. You were trying to empty your head from all sorts of thoughts to get rid of all the frustration, but his voice brought you back to reality. You motioned him to join you, and soon Rick was standing next to you. You instinctively folded your arms in anticipation of another lecturing of your behavior. But Rick was silent for another few minutes before he finally spoke in a calm voice.

“Whatever happened between you and Daryl today, I’m really sorry about that.”

You stayed silent.

“But again, whatever it was, you can’t be mad at him,” Rick said, fully facing you. “There had been tension between you two for the last couple of weeks. I’m sure, he just wants to make it better…”

“Being an asshole to me doesn’t make anything better,” you scoffed, feeling the anger building up in you again.

“You know him better than any of us do,” Rick softly protested. “You know how he gets when he stresses out…”

“Rick,” you turned your face to the man, looking at him with disbelief. “He blamed me for running into a fucking herd!”

“He’s not the bad guy, Y/N, you know that. Maybe you should try and, I don’t know, give him another chance?”

“No fucking way you’re telling me that, Rick,” you hissed. “I’ve given too many second chances to lots of people who didn’t deserve it! I ain’t doing that again.”

You turned away, catching your breath. It cost you all your strength not to cry. Several hours have passed since you returned from your run, but you still couldn’t let it go. You had spent some time in one of the remote corners of the community, away from strangers, looks, and questions. You managed to spend most of the remaining day in complete solitude.

Your night shift was only recently, but you needed this loneliness. Moreover, the experience would not let you fall asleep tonight. You didn’t hope for the company, but you felt that after all, you couldn’t push Rick away. In the end, he wasn’t to blame too.

“I’m so goddamn tired,” you whispered, looking at your hands. “You have no idea, Rick.”

Rick was much older than you, but it never felt weird to open up to him, to call him your brother. You felt awful for distancing yourself from him in the past month. He didn’t deserve it.

Rick squeezed your hand in his. No words needed.

***

Two months later

The decision was made hastily. There was no time for planning. The good weather season was drawing to a close, which meant it was getting harder to fight the hordes. Therefore, when two large hordes were noticed in the vicinity of the community, no one paid attention to the apparent lack of people in the groups. Maybe one did but didn’t say it out loud.

The plan was simple: break the horde into smaller parts and destroy, lead the rest of them away.

Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Daryl, Tara, a few Alexandrians and you, by Rick’s decision, took over the largest of the hordes. Fortunately, you managed to lead away the greater half at the beginning and send them down from a cliff. But with the leftovers, it was worse.

You and Glenn were still recovering from the previous run, your wounds hadn’t yet had time to heal. Rick caught the temperature the day before but flatly refused to stay in the walls of the community. Though to the surprise of many, some residents of Alexandria volunteered to help. It pleased. So, people began to understand that the world they lived in was far from safe.

“Come on, keep on moving!”

“We almost got them!”

Dividing the remaining half of the walkers into smaller groups, you were moving farther north. The progress was slow. It seemed that there were more and more of them coming. You fought with knives, machetes, axes. Guns attracted unwanted attention. The forces were running out. Your thoughts then returned to the second group, which at that very moment was trying to withdraw another horde. Was everyone alive?

“Rosita? Abraham? Do you copy?”

“Spencer? There’s Gabe?”

Constant fear for your loved ones only fueled the desire to quickly deal with it.

You turned around to spot two walkers right behind Rick’s back. You felt your heart missing a beat when you screamed his name at the top of your lungs to get his attention, earning a few new walkers stumble their way to you.

“Rick!”

The man looked back just in time to duck from the bite. He took a few steps back to the side of the road, then crashed his hatchet through the walker’s skull. The other one followed him but stumbled over the dead one’s body. Soon, the second one was dead too, Rick locked his eyes with yours, nodding and turning back to help Michone fight back the other part of the herd.

You went out of your consternation, letting out a shaky breath. That was a very close call. You sighed and started to walk towards the rest of the group to help, and that’s when you felt it. The slightest pressure on your side and then the pain.

The rest happened too fast, you could barely register it. You looked at the dead body lying at your feet. Something that used to be a man still had his eyes open. His half-rotten face was twisted, and your knife stuck out of his head. You looked blankly at him, feeling your body going numb. And then, your gaze involuntarily fell on the side of your shirt. Traces of teeth were visible on the fabric, which was slowly turning darker. You swallowed and stumbled a few steps back, almost tripping over another dead body. That’s when you saw Daryl. He was standing a few feet away, looking at you closely. For a second your terrified gaze met his.

“Shit…”

#the walking dead #the walkind dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #reader

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

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One-Shot #2 [SFW]

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warning: Mentioning of domestic violence, physical and emotional abuse

Daryl would never beat a woman. Hell, he'd probably never touch her unless it was utterly needed. His complicated childhood with the old man drinking his life away and his older brother constantly being high or in jail, Daryl quickly learned that with assault and battery, nothing would end well. Though he could still beat all the crap out anyone who even tried to approach the people he cared about. But manhandling a woman... That was too much for him. That's why it made his blood boil when he learned about your previous relationship.

You had been married to the man for a few years when the outbreak started. The thing started as something magical like in those novels you loved to read. At first, you couldn't believe to be lucky to have the man by your side, to share the bed with him. To share his name. Before he would take you to different places for your dates, and he never failed to surprise you with the choice. Flowers, lovely dinners, passionate nights spent together... Everything seemed to be a dream.

Your first year of life as a married couple went pretty well too until it changed. Your husband stayed late at work, coming home in a black mood. In the beginning, you didn't think something was off. You would still offer a loving smile and nuzzle closely to him at night. Anybody could have a complicated situation at work, right? That's why you didn't pay much attention again when he started to leave for a few shots at a bar with his colleagues. The man needed his space, you thought. It kept on going for weeks and months. Then it became worse.

Your hands were shaking, while you were doing up the buttons of the shirt. The fabric had to be dense enough to cover fresh cuts and bruises. Some of them were still bleeding. Thank God, the shirt was black.

You no longer saw the man you had fallen for. All the affection, all the tenderness he had possessed now were gone. Harshness and tyranny replaced them. He accused you of every failure in his life. And after all, he would take out all of the frustration on you, beating and humiliating. With days passing by, it only became worse. You no longer could go out without covering your full body: arms, legs, your neck, and shoulders. And the thing was, no matter what you did, you could never make him stop. You were scared for your life. But more than that, you were scared to leave.

Your single attempt resulted in you being taken to the hospital with a broken rib. Your husband followed you in and out, lying through his teeth about a terrible car accident. And for years after that, you couldn't find the strength to do that again. Eating the dust and silently praying to God every night.

By the time the group found the prison, you and Daryl had already gotten together. The man turned out to be a very gentle partner and lover. Which quite surprised you at first. Daryl was never the man of many words or showing affection, yet when it came to your being in the relationship, some things changed. Small touches here and there to provide comfort, patting shoulders or back, gentle kisses when nobody was watching. It seemed no matter what, he'd always put you and your safety in the first place, always making sure you weren't hurt, hungry or cold. It still surprised you sometimes how even small details couldn't escape him. Daryl instantly knew if something was wrong. The way your eyes would get sadder sometimes, your shoulders would tense up, could tell him more than words. That's why being in the relationship with him was so special.

Daryl had never laid a hand on you, but it didn't mean you two never argued. On a particularly rough day when you'd remember your ex, you would go to Carol. The woman became your dearest friend. There, sitting in the kitchen, you would silently cry to her, sharing your worries about your and Daryl's future together. You couldn't let a thought of him hurting you cross your mind. But every time you two had even a small fight, something inside of you was off. You didn't want to lose him, you couldn't afford to lose him. But after all, you were so damn scared of Daryl becoming your ex-husband. And every time you went talking to Carol, you'd be silently hoping that she would understand. And she did. She always did. Being in an abusive relationship with Ed, Carol now was the only person in the whole group who'd actually understand it. And every time you came to her, she would listen to you, and she would reassure you. Again and again. Daryl wasn't like your ex. Not a single thing about him was the same. Carol loved to tell you that Daryl was that kind of a man who'd love you for the rest of his life. He would die, and he would sure as hell kill for you. And at the end of the day, she was always right.

***

The run didn't go as smoothly as planned. You ended up encircled by a rather big herd that left you outnumbered. More than that, you accidentally dislocated your shoulder on your way back to the car. And by accidentally you meant tripping over a stone and falling right onto your rifle which, thank God, didn't shoot. But despite all the trouble, your group managed to find lots of supplies, including food and meds. And as soon as Rick set your shoulder, you took the way back home.

Back at the prison, you laid on the bunk in your and Daryl's cell, stretching out your aching body. Daryl, as it seemed, still wasn't back from the hunt. Though, he could be anywhere really. The man could be skinning his game in the kitchen or having his time in the guard tower. The two of you, after all, really respected one's privacy. Though, his absence made you worry. This morning you hadn't told him about your plans of joining Rick and others on a supply run. Daryl was an early riser, so he had gotten up long before you did and had gone hunting. Your thoughts were elsewhere when you heard Carol calling your name. She was passing by your cell when she stopped.

"He's back..." she said with a concerned look. "And he's in a bad mood."

You noded, getting up and muttering a quiet "thanks".

Of course, it couldn't be anything different. Daryl was angry with you. And now you could only hope it wouldn't lead to another devastating fight between you two. Daryl rushed into the cell a few minutes later.

"Hey," you said, trying to calm your trembling voice.

Daryl didn't answer. You saw his whole body immediately tensing up.

"Look, I know you're angry," you rubbed your face, looking away. "And I'm sorry."

You really did feel guilty for not telling Daryl about the run. But you didn't really have a choice. Your group needed supplies: medication, ammo, clothes, food after all. Everything was in short supply, and Daryl simply couldn't go out hunting every single day and night. Though he would, you knew that. So when Rick asked you to join him and Glenn on the run, you agreed without a second thought.

"You were already gone so I couldn't warn you. But I'm fine, see? I mean, nothing bad happened except for a dislocated shoulder, but that was just me being stupid..."

"Yeah?" Daryl cut you off. His harsh voice was like a rumble of thunder, echoing in the cell. "Stupid, huh? Wha' the hell were ya even thinkin'?"

He was looking at you with such an intense look, that he could probably kill with it.

"Ya weren't really thinking, were ya?!" Dary made his way up to you. "Being so reckless 'n shit."

You reflexively took a few steps back, feeling your back hit the wall. It happened sometimes during your small fights when Daryl would raise his voice on you but it never really affected you that much. But now, something about his mood was different. You saw his jaw tightened and a vein popping out in his neck. Daryl wasn't just annoyed. God, he was furious. You felt the panic rising up to your throat making it hard to breathe.

"I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you worry, I swear. Rick had asked me to join them... I just wanted to help" you mumbled, trying to justify yourself but the words were coming out jumbled.

"And if tha' asshole asked ya to shoot yourself, ya'd do tha' too, huh? 'Cause ya jus' wanted to help?!" Daryl was throwing his arms in the air, emphasizing every word, coming closer and closer. He almost pinned you down the wall, standing right in front of you.

Daryl was never the one to second-guess Rick's decisions. More than that, he would usually be the first to obey them. And it was a common knowledge that Rick would never put his people in danger, their safety was always in the first place. That's why you couldn't believe that Daryl had just said something like that. Eventually, Daryl was shouting something else to your face, but your mind couldn't catch up to his words anymore. You had ringing in the ears, and it felt as if the ground was slowly slipping away from under your feet. You had to bring hands to cover your face when Daryl took another step forward, as panic overtook you. You didn't even notice you were holding your breath until you started hyperventilating.

"Don't, oh God, please don't!" You started mumbling, closing your eyes and sliding down the wall on the floor.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as the images of your ex filled your head, and you almost started to cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't..."

You were too caught up in your memories to notice the way Daryl's body went numb. He couldn't move, watching you in pure shock. Your eyes were shut, and you were trembling hard. Your mumbling turned into whispering as you no longer could register anything around you. It took him almost a minute to understand what was happening. And as soon as the realization of what he had done hit him, he fell onto the floor next to you, not even bothering for his knees. Daryl tried to reach you, touching your shoulder. Guilt washed over him as you flinched from his touch.

"Y/N... Shit, girl, 'm sorry" his voice cracked.

Daryl pulled you to his chest, stroking your hair, whispering apologies as tears filled his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought of the way he had approached you. Of what he had done to you. He didn't just shout at you. He made you afraid. You were still trembling, fighting off your anxiety when familiar smell and warmth surrounded you. As quickly as appeared, a vision of your ex escaped your mind, as you were propped against Daryl's broad chest with his hands around you.

It took you several minutes to calm down. You let a shaky breath, sniffing and finally opened your eyes, letting your arms stay around your middle. Your misty eyes met Daryl's terrified gaze. Another wave of panic hit you when you realized what just happened.

"I'm sorry, shit, I didn't want to" you tried to move, feeling the urge to leave and not to make things worse. But Daryl's strong arms just tightened around you, making it impossible for you to escape.

"Did ya... Did ya think I was gonna hit ya? Like yer ol' man?" Daryl asked after some time.

He was whispering, his voice uneven. His eyes never left yours as he watched you nodding slowly and hiding your face. He exhaled slowly, and you started to apologize again, feeling incredibly guilty for making him feel bad and insecure about himself. You knew Daryl would be beating himself up for what had happened.

"'M sorry" was all he could say.

You lifted your head again, watching the man closely. He had such a hurt expression that it made your heart ache for him.

"It's not on you, Daryl," you said quietly, resting your forehead on his shoulder and hesitantly hugging him back. "It's still hard for me to forget, you know... Sometimes I just forget he is not here anymore."

Daryl just pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head and closing his eyes.

"You're safe here. 'M not gonna let anything hurt you again. 'M sorry, I was an asshole to you."

Today, Daryl thought he lost you. You left. That was what he heard from others when he came back from hunting. He trusted Rick and Glenn to keep you safe but still every time you went out without him by your side, an obnoxious feeling would fill his heart. Daryl couldn't lose you. Not after everything you'd come through. You were the first one to show him what it meant to be loved, to be cared about. You proved him that, after all, he wasn't broken, he wasn't damaged. Yet, here were you. An angel, in his eyes. Daryl hated to see you broken, he hated that he couldn't help it too. If your husband had been still alive, Daryl would have killed him slowly, making up for all the pain he'd given you through years. Daryl somehow knew for sure that he just wouldn't make it, if something happened to you. Whatever it was in you that made him like that, he couldn't resist the desperate will to take all your pain. To make you forget.

"I'm a mess," you said quietly after a while. "You know that."

That wasn't really the question. Daryl knew you still had nightmares of your ex, you still tried to hide all old scars, you were still trying to find your worth. And Daryl was always there to help you.

"Ya ain't," he said in a gruff voice, pulling away to look into your eyes. He cupped your cheeks, whipping your tears with his thumbs and repeated himself. "Ya ain't."

Whatever it was between you two, it was nothing like either of you had before. You were still fighting your old demons, but as they say, you can't get away from your past. And as long as there's someone by your side, as long as someone's there for your battles, you're not too far gone.

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #reader

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aisling-beatha · 5 years

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One-Shot #1 [SFW]

The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader

“Tomorrow we are going to war.”

The bulb in the middle of the room was ready to go off at any moment. The only source of light in the dim place was slowly fading away. Your people had gathered in this long-abandoned warehouse a few hours ago just before another cold night took that place.

The place was damp. It smelled musty and rotten. Just like those walking bastards, the group met on their way here. But that, that was the least of anyone’s worries for now. Your thoughts were going again and again to what was upcoming.

“As much as I’d love to avoid saying this,” Rick said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t really have a choice.”

He was standing on one of the largest containers, his face just slightly lit by the small bulb hanging from the ceiling. The leader placed hands on the hips and tilted his head, looking at his people. But from your place, you could barely see the man’s facial expression.

“We all know what’s coming. And we have to be ready for this. We have to. There’s no turning back. Not for us. Not anymore.”

By the way some of your people were nodding, you guessed everyone agreed on that.

This was how things worked out for you now. Your people had put everything they had at stake: every human and every weapon. The war was coming, and there was no way anyone could really keep off it.

“We don’t know what’s gonna happen there. Nobody really knows,” Rick’s gruff voice was echoing in the room. “And some may not come home either. And we all have to embrace that.”

Your thoughts went back to the day you met Negan and his people. When he walked out of the van, swinging his bat and grinning obscenely at your people in the line-up. The memories were way too vivid. Even now, a shiver ran down your spine at a single thought of the man. You still wondered how your people could possibly survive it. Yet again, not everyone did.

The ultimate decision was eventually made a few days ago, during the last meeting between the leaders of the three communities. By a solid vote, it was agreed to start a war against the Saviors and Negan. He was to pay for everything he’d done to your people. For what he’d done to Rick. To Sasha. To Maggie. To Daryl.

You felt another shiver running through your body as you remembered the sight of the broken man when Rick with a small group, including you, saw Daryl for the first time in what seems like months. Since that moment, everything you were able to think of was to make Negan pay, to make him suffer.

You glanced over the room, spotting Maggie. She was sitting next to Carol, listening to Rick just as the others. Despite the warnings, she had got from every member of the group, she was still here, ready to fight. The determination in her eyes and the fire she had burning there always left you speechless yet it never surprised you. After everything you two went through, you learned not only to trust her and rely on her hardiness but to understand where it was coming from. And now, it wasn’t just her grief and sorrow to bear. You all lost something on that day: a part of you that will never be replaced or fixed. A deep hole was now slowly eating each one of you from the inside. And the only way to make it stop was to stand up and fight. Yet, nothing will ever make you forget those who were now gone.

“There’s no way we can call a truce to bury the dead. Negan won’t buy it. And I doubt there will ever be this chance for us,” Rick’s voice softened. “But what I want from all of us right now is… is to take our time. Tomorrow might be the last day on the earth for any of us. So don’t waste the chance as we might as well not see each other…”

As the last words left Rick’s mouth, you felt a lump in your throat. The reality of what was to come hit you again, and you struggled to hold back tears. But Rick was right after all. Tomorrow you won’t have enough time to say goodbye to your loved ones. Tomorrow you won’t have time to cry or to be sorry for not being here with them. You smirked as you remembered the story Rick told your people years ago from now. That was a story of his veteran grandad, who somehow made it out alive during the war. And now you distinctly remembered Rick repeating his grandpa’s words: “Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war”. The trick was simple: you do what you gotta do, no exceptions.

People were slowly rising from their spots. Whispering and muttering filled the silence in the room. You also stood up from your spot and headed off to the group of familiar faces. For the past several months you became close with many people, building a strong bond with them. These people were now your sisters and brothers. From what was just a small group of people, constantly distrusting and suspecting each other, you came to having all these people around and calling them your family. Losing any of them would destroy you, so you just kept trying to push those thoughts at the back of your mind. At least for now, to enjoy what could be the last peaceful moments your people could share. There wasn’t a way to get prepared for another loss.

Soon enough you left the group of men you were speaking to. You quietly chuckled and shook your head. Even in times like these, some of them were able to slightly let their guard down, laughing and remembering better times. That lightened your mood a little bit.

You spotted Rick talking to a man not far from where you were standing. The leader looked aside just for a moment to share a short nod with you. The intensity of his sight made your muscles tense. You turned away and let a shaky sight. Your nerves were already to the limits. You couldn’t let yourself even think about another day. Much to your luck, studying the place, you spotted another figure in the farthest corner. Something about the man’s posture made you smile. He was sitting on a container, his back facing you, looking through the dusty window.

“Hey, Dixon,” you smirked as you approached the man. “Nice view, huh?”

A quiet snort came as a reply. Daryl side-glanced you.

You coughed awkwardly, “A'right, listen here, you know, sometimes you are a true asshole, Daryl Dixon. You’d better work on that attitude of yours towards people.” you chuckled softly, not looking at the man. “Thank you though, you know… for saving my ass countless times. I appreciate that, really. I-I…”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Huh?” you didn’t catch up to the question at first, being deep in your thoughts. Daryl’s hoarse voice brought you back to reality.

“Whatcha doing’?” Daryl was looking at you with squinty eyes.

“Well, you heard the boss,” you shook your head in Rick’s direction. “Might as well not see you again tomorrow… Thought I might use the chance to thank you.”

“Ya ain’t tellin’ goodbye, aren’t ya?”

“Daryl…” you protested but were cut off.

“Stop it, Y/N, ya don’ get to tell that. We all gonna be just fine, promise. M’ gonna keep ya safe.”

Daryl’s voice was gruff from the cigarettes. Just recently you couldn’t even imagine having that warm feeling every time you heard his voice. Now, you knew exactly what it meant. Daryl’s voice meant safety. It meant home.

“Daryl, stop it.”

“Nah, whatcha telling ’s stupid.”

“You can’t protect me, alright?” you snapped, suddenly feeling exhausted. You shook your head, still avoiding looking at Daryl. “Look, there’s no way everyone’s coming home. What we… what they started here, it won’t end without blood. People are gonna die. And we can’t be sure… So please, don’t say it like that, okay?”

Daryl was quiet. He was studying your face but didn’t say anything. He surely could see how tired you were after all. He could always read you like an open book. Just a certain look or gesture could tell him about your mood at the moment. And now, he could see that as well. You were barely holding on.

“Y/N…”

“I just… I just don’t wanna give myself hope, you know?” you mumbled. “I don’t wanna make it look like I’m not afraid. I’m terrified, Daryl. And I came to say goodbye because I felt like… I felt like if I don’t, I won’t later…” you lowered your voice, feeling as your eyes were now filled with tears. Daryl shifted a little bit to place a hand on your cheek. The touch gave you the shudders. It was almost electric but at the same time so tender, that it made it even harder for you to hold back tears. Everything went still for a moment. You were looking back at the man in front of you, fighting back the urge to start crying. You were always afraid of dying. The end of the world just made your fear stronger. Dead people were walking, and if you died, you sure as hell were going to end like one of them. Unless someone else would put you out of your misery. But worse than that, worse than walkers and the constant fear, was watching other people die. Every new death was ripping your heart apart, making it even harder to breathe. And the thing was, you never get to be ready to lose someone else. And now, with the war and too many things being put at stake, you couldn’t let yourself be selfish and be hopeful enough to be sure to walk the other day next to your friends and family.

You sobbed quietly and tried to smile, “No chick flick moments, huh?”

Daryl moved his hand and slowly stood from his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. “Why don’t we make it all cozy in here then, mh? We’re going to kick some bad guys in the balls tomorrow and I sure as hell don’t wanna be sleepy and all.”

You were trying to joke to ease the tension between the two of you that suddenly became way too uncomfortable. You weren’t that stupid to think that you’d be sleepy during the battle. But taking a good sleep still was the priority. With that, you turned around and headed off to the place you were sitting before. Previously, Rick insisted on taking stuff to this warehouse in case you were about to spend some time here. Among all the ammo and meds, there were clothes and blankets, that apparently were taken here by other women. If it wasn’t for the end of the world and the war coming, this might be a nice sleepover.

The night was definitely getting colder but thanks to the flannel and a leather jacket you were wearing, you weren’t really cold. So instead of taking a blanket to yourself, you passed it to Maggie, stopping by her side and slightly patting her shoulder. Maggie and you had already exchanged a few words before coming to this place. She smiled at you softly, gently touching and squeezing your hand on her shoulder.

Back at the place you were sitting before, you lent on a wall, bending your legs and hiding your head in the hands. An obnoxious feeling filled your heart. Your anxiety found its way to your throat making you breathe heavily. You didn’t exactly know how much time passed by when you felt someone moving next to you. Daryl lightly patted you on your back, making you sit up straight.

“Come ‘ere” he rasped out.

You moved and positioned yourself between Daryl’s legs, leaning back on his broad chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body through the layers of clothes, which instantly made your heart beating faster. Daryl hugged you from behind, letting his arms lay on your stomach.

“Ya know, ya pain in the ass sometimes too.”

You chuckled to yourself, closing your eyes and letting Daryl’s steady breath soothe you.

“But you still love me,” you placed your arms over his.

“Yeah, well, ya mine pain in the ass, woman.”

Daryl scoffed and, you were sure, rolled his eyes. This man couldn’t stop making you grin. You were already dozing off when Daryl placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“Ain’t gonna let anything happen to ya. But ’m not goin’ to say goodbye either.”

Terrible things were about to happen. And then you will need all your strength to fight them back. But for now, everything that mattered was this exact moment. Your family was here, sleeping, curled next to each other, taking in last hours of peace before the break of dawn. And nothing else mattered.

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader

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