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imagineanythings · 1 year

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Tis the Damn Season

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.8k

The second fic in my Folklore and Evermore Collection

Other fics in the collection: The 1

Her head swarmed with frustration and anger and she finally noticed that she had pulled into the parking lot in front of the methodist church. She laughed to herself as she rested her head on the wheel. Of course she’d come here. Stupid. She moved to put the car in reverse and go somewhere, anywhere else, when taillights in her rearview mirror caught her eye. The air forcibly left her lungs in one swift exhale as she recognized that old, beat up, blue pickup.

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The familiar musty scent of beer and an unfortunate mixture of perfumes and colognes met her nose as she entered the bar. Faces more weathered than her memory had stored them greeted her as she weaved through. The motion of dodging through these people had become muscle memory, though the setting had shifted some years back from crowded high school hallways to this cramped hometown bar. She settled into a seat at the bar and shrugged off her coat, and once she had a gin and tonic in hand she was far more prepared to deal with the sea of semi-familiar faces around her.

It was all cordial hellos, obligatory “so what are you doing these days?”, or “how’s your family?” or “congratulations on your engagement or your promotion or your pregnancy or whatever else someone could be congratulated on ten years out from high school”. Small talk was easy, but grating, people couldn’t help but joke about how cold she must be here after coming from LA, or asking about contracts or jobs that she wasn’t allowed to talk about. Insincerity leaked from between their clenched, grinning teeth as they would ask “remember when we sat next to each other in bio? We sure had some good times. Did you say you were on set with Angelina Jolie last month?” They would say “It’s amazing that your career is taking off like this, it’s a tough industry” or they’d jab an all too sharp elbow into her side with a far too comfortable smile and say “If you ever need some company out there in LA, call me.”

Fake smiles and performed familiarity left her exhausted and frustrated as she worked on her third drink in a brief moment to herself. She took the time to scan the room and survey if anyone worth talking to had showed up. She was just about coming up empty when a crowded table in the corner caught her eye. She might have missed him with the swarm of people he was sitting with, except for his cold blue stare. She could never miss his eyes, even if she wanted to. Steve Rogers would never not be the first person she could pick out of a crowd. They held eye contact for a moment, air tense, background voices dimmed to a dull ringing in their ears as they returned to a long unpracticed art of reading one another.

She said hello with a quirked brow, he remained impassive, so she sipped her drink and narrowed her eyes, the corner of his lip tugged ever so slightly upwards, her shoulders released the slightest bit of tension, his jaw clenched, her eyes softened, he turned his head to speak to someone else. It seemed that neither was satisfied with the interaction, if it could even be called that. Nonverbal conversations used to be their secret, an inside joke in a room full of unsuspecting idiots. Suddenly she wished she couldn’t read him quite so well anymore.

One drink and a few more awkward conversations later, fresh soap and pine and firewood reached her nose and she knew he was about to pass her on his way out. At the peak of the scent a gentle brush against her side informed her that her estimates of his whereabouts were correct and she sat glued to her seat, forcing herself not to look. But nostalgia and curiosity and possibly a dash of hopeless romanticism grabbed her by the chin after a few moments and led her eyes to the muscular frame headed for the door. He paused, hand on the door, and as if he could sense it, looked up and met her eyes. There it was again, and her heart strung with icy blue hurt. He was gone within moments but she had felt an eternity in that eye contact.

One of the comforts of being home was the ability to zone out on drives through her sleepy, small hometown. Her eyes stayed on the road and her body mechanically brought her home as she thought about seeing Steve in the bar. Flashes of a dizzying high school romance intermixed with memories of the aching emptiness that followed. The feelings existed out of sync with one another.

At home, she only enjoyed a mere few minutes of peace before her mother began her favorite line of questioning. “Why did you have to go so far away sweetheart? We miss you.” Her mother began. With a deep breath, she braced herself. “You know why, Mom. You know I wanted to act. I couldn’t have done that here.” The words fell from her lips with no thought, muscle memory had taken over. “I just don’t see why that had to be the only option. You could make a nice life for yourself here. I mean did you really want to get away from us that badly?” “Jesus, Mom. You know that’s not why I left. We’ve been over this.” The argument went in progressively louder circles for who knows how long. After enough nothing, Y/N silently grabbed her coat. She called, “I’m going for a drive.” Before shutting the front door behind her and getting into her car.

Muscle memory is a crazy thing. She hadn’t thought about where she was going, she only knew that she had to get away for a minute. Her head swarmed with frustration and anger and she finally noticed that she had pulled into the parking lot in front of the methodist church. She laughed to herself as she rested her head on the wheel. Of course she’d come here. Stupid. She moved to put the car in reverse and go somewhere, anywhere else, when taillights in her rearview mirror caught her eye. The air forcibly left her lungs in one swift exhale as she recognized that old, beat up, blue pickup.

It seemed like she had no control over anything she did anymore, as she felt herself getting out of her car. Her brain was sounding all the alarms, telling her to stop, to turn around, get back in her car, and continue her personal pity party as far away from here as possible. Maybe even back in LA at this point. But her legs carried her forward nonetheless until finally she stood on the passenger side of the truck, staring through the window.

His head rested on his steering wheel the same way hers had a few moments ago, he hadn’t seen her yet. Despite all of her rational reasoning, she raised a timid hand and gently knocked against the glass. He jolted upright once at the sound and then again when he realized who was standing in front of him. She figured she was in too deep now, no running away, so she reached out and opened the door, climbed into the passenger seat and nearly had to hold back tears as she felt her skin against its familiar leather. With all the composure she could muster, she looked over at his still stunned face. “Wanna go for a drive?” She asked, and wordlessly, he started the car.

Silence filled the space, wrapped them both up in a warm familiarity for the beginning of the drive. She knew the roads he was taking, leading them aimlessly around the town that made them who they were. There’s no telling how long they needed to sit and absorb each others’ presence, they only knew that they would speak when it felt right again. “What brought you to the lot?” He broke the silence, surprising her. That was traditionally her job. She shrugged. “My parents, pissed at me for leaving and going so far away.” He nodded and hummed. “I get that.” The silence hung between them once again. “What about you?” Guilt broke her first this time. “House felt empty, like I was seeing ghosts. Just wanted to clear my head.” His tone had a practiced evenness to it that she recognized from when he tried to hold back his feelings, like the day they broke up. “Feel like I should be apologizing for that.” She observed. He exhaled deeply. “Maybe. Maybe I should be too.” SIlence met them again and they embraced it, comfortably. She continued to sneak glances at him in the quiet, trying to read him as he drove, as he clearly was trying to close himself off to her.

She took another deep breath after a long while and broke the silence again. “So the bar was a bust, huh? I mean Bucky wasn’t even there.” His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle as she looked up in shock that he was even responding with anything other than snark or frustration. “Yeah, even Tony was acting like an ass tonight.” “Where was Nat? Or Sam? Felt like no one worth talking to was around.” “They’re busy with their lives. Although out of everyone, you were the one we all expected to show up the least.” that coldness leached back into Steve’s tone. “You guys were talking about it? Seriously?” Her brows knitted together and she crossed her arms. “I mean, come on. We all just thought you’d be on a movie set. Or with people cooler and richer than this whole town combined.” The coldness was barely there in his voice, he spoke matter-of-factly. “Nah, LA people suck. Trust me, they’ve got nothing on some of the people here. Some of them.” She put emphasis on that last bit and met Steve’s eyes as they stopped at a red light. He looked quickly back to the road as the light turned green and continued along. The silence surrounded them again. She broke it again. “I miss you.” It was barely a whisper. “Yeah.” He breathed deeply. “I miss you too.” Another stop sign, another quick glance. “But I’m sure you already knew that.” “I’m sorry.” She said once again, she didn’t even know why she was saying it anymore. He just shook his head. They rode in silence for a long time again. She wondered when silence became more comfortable with him than speaking. Somewhere after middle school, she guessed. Either way, there was a nostalgia to the quiet that wrapped her up and made her feel warm despite the guilt squeezing her by the lungs.

The truck rolled to a stop right where it had started. He put it in park and stared straight ahead. “Thanks for the ride.” She said, as her fingers grasped the door handle and she began to push the door open, Steve reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Muscle memory kicked in again as he pulled her to him, a hand threading through her hair as he placed his lips on hers. His tug on her arm had some force behind it, but the kiss itself was soft and gentle, more of a question than anything else. She could feel him holding himself back before she gave in and kissed him back like leaning into a multiple years long itch that was finally being scratched. As soon as she showed eagerness he let go completely, one of his hands was tangled in her hair, the other had snaked around her waist to rest on her back, pulling as close as he could over the center console. She took his shirt in one fist and placed a gentle palm on his cheek. She had been in her hometown for a little over a day now but she hadn’t felt really at home until this moment.

He tasted like peppermint and whiskey and she felt like she was drowning in him when he pulled back to look at her. They breathed heavily in time with one another, something that simple having brought them back into sync after all those years. He spoke first between labored breaths. “Meet me at my place?” “I’ll follow you there.”

The morning sunlight streaked through unfamiliar windows and it took Y/N a moment to comprehend where she was. She sat up in bed and surveyed the neat bedroom she found herself in. It was simple, just the bed, an armchair in the corner, and a large, overstuffed bookshelf. The door creaked open to reveal Steve, in just his boxers, holding two steaming mugs.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead” He said with a chuckle as he carefully slid back into bed next to her. He handed her one of the mugs and a large t-shirt of his. She pulled the shirt, soft and well worn, over her head and then took a sip, coffee exactly how she liked it. She looked over to him in surprise to find him watching her anxiously. Her shocked smile easily melted the worry lines above his brow as he let out what sounded like an involuntary laugh. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t have much faith in your high school preferences but I guess some things do never change.” She laughed and let out a playful scoff.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For everything.” They sat, sipping in silence for another few moments before she spoke again. “I missed you.” “I missed you too, Sugar.” He let his old nickname for her fall from his lips for the first time in ten years and she knew he could see the way it made her breath catch in her throat. They stilled, reading each other as gently as possible, searching for safe waters to steer whatever this was towards. She made the first attempt. “So we didn’t get to talking much last night,” her lips twisted in a wry smile and he laughed and shook his head, tension leaving his shoulders. “How’ve you been? What have you been doing? When did you move out of your parents’ place? Catch me up on all that I’ve missed,” She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she raised eyebrows along with her mug to her lips.

He smiled, softly, no teeth, a mix of fondness and hurt in his eyes, but not the accusatory kind she had seen at the bar. It was a dull, sort of throbbing ache that she was all too familiar with that swam in the expansive blue of his eyes. And he started talking. He moved out of his parents’ house about five years back. As soon as he had the money to do it he was out of there. It had been mostly work for the last ten years. He looked at her with a slight sadness as he sighed and said “not much else to report”. She shook her head. “I’m sure that’s not true Rogers, I’ll just have to get a good few drinks in you to hear whatever stories you’re holding back,” she poked him gently in the rib and he laughed. “Trust me, there really aren’t many stories to tell. Feels like this place got a whole lot less exciting once you left.” It was like someone attached a string to all the air in her lungs and yanked it out through her mouth.

“Why didn’t you? Leave, I mean” She asked carefully. “I don’t know, I always thought about it but I had a job and then I started to climb ranks and build something of my own so it all just kind of made sense here,” He trailed off. She saw his minute intake of breath and knew he had more to say. She gave him space to get it out. “Plus where would I go anyway?” He finally let out, quiet, maybe even a bit fearful, his voice quivering the slightest bit. She wanted to put a hand on his arm, tell him he could have always come to LA, stayed with her, but she knew better than to offer that. Instead she put her coffee down on the nightstand and curled into his side, resting her head in his lap.

“Do you ever want to leave?” “I don’t know.” He placed his mug down as well and ran fingers through her hair. “Sometimes. But I mostly like the life I’ve built. I see why you did though,” “You do?” She peered up at him. “Yeah. I mean, this place can be tough. I still don’t know why you wouldn’t stay with me, why you didn’t even want to try with us, but I can respect why you couldn’t stay here.” She sat up, bringing a hand to his face. He leaned into it, letting her fingers rake over stubble and caress his jaw and cheek bones. “I didn’t want to. I just had to get away and I was young and stupid and I didn’t know if I could truly leave if I still had anything here that I was holding on to. If only I’d known what LA was going to be like. That holding onto a piece of my soul might actually have saved me from a lot of pain down the line.” “Are you gonna leave again?” His eyes wouldn’t leave hers and she couldn’t look away, trapped by his gaze. There was no pressure, there was no ill-will or blame, simply an understanding, a sense of I will not be blindsided by this again.

“I’m here for the weekend, aren’t I?” His air rushed out of him. She could tell he was disappointed but he did a good job concealing most of it. She sat up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, hoping it could convey so much of what she just felt too damn ineloquent to express in words, and then got out of bed and cleared away the coffee mugs. She brought them to the kitchen and rinsed them to give him a second to think, to just be alone. When she came back he looked calm, he had leaned back against his antique wooden headboard, his arms crossed and his brow uncreasing as he seemed to come out of a thought. “You’re here for the weekend?” he asked, gesturing a bit to the space around him, indicating his home. She giggled and nodded. “The whole damn weekend, if that’s ok with you?” She confirmed and he smiled, shoulders and eyebrows relaxing. “Oh that is more than ok with me, I’ll take what I can get, Sugar.” He looked at her with genuine joy it seemed, so much hurt now missing from his gaze. With a wink she turned and started into the bathroom. “Now just what are you getting up to?” He asked and she pulled his shirt over her head with a comfortable smile. “I had an absolutely filthy night last night, feels like I need to wash off.” She tossed the shirt at him, leaving her bare skin exposed, “You coming?” she asked. “Yes, Ma’am” he said, his tone soaked in reverence and eyes full of desire as he made his way after her.

48 hours is nothing in the grand scheme of things, but they stretched it for all it was worth. She made breakfast, he cooked dinner. They rarely left the house except for one extra large grocery run. They drank hot chocolate, they sat by the fireplace and watched movies, they went for a walk around his property, they kissed every chance they got and almost never stopped touching each other in some way. He held her like he knew he was going to have to let go far sooner than he’d like. She couldn’t stop staring at him, trying to memorize this version of him, of them together. They were an older, more mature version of themselves, free of adolescent sting and grudges but never quite escaping a quiet fog of sadness that sometimes tasted like regret if she closed her eyes and focused on it too hard.

The time flew by all too quickly. Suddenly she was packing her small bag, preparing for her flight the next day. She was carefully folding her clothes and trying not to focus too hard on how intently Steve was watching her. She knew him too well at this point, could feel the force of his willpower on her, his presence begging her to stay. But he didn’t say anything, so she didn’t either. She simply zipped up her bag, crawled into bed, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him, lips meeting his with force and passion. He tangled a hand in her hair and wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into him, and for just a second, it felt like no other words needed to be said.

Hours later, she rested her head on his chest, feeling his even breathing, listening to his steady heartbeat. She stared into the empty darkness of his room, mind in a rush to get nowhere in particular, jumping anxieties like changing trains in an endless commute. Where do we go from here? Do I just go back home and pretend none of this happens? Can I handle the same silence I sat in for ten years? WIll he miss me? She raced through uncertainties at a rapid pace, but always found herself coming back to the same question. Would he ever just ask me to stay? She wasn’t even sure if she knew what her answer would even be if he did, but she wondered nonetheless. She could feel his breathing hitch, his arm around her shift, she knew he was still awake. She wondered what he was thinking about. She stayed silent and hoped that for once he couldn’t read her like she knew he always could.

In the morning they dressed in silence. She gathered her things and he brought her a cup of coffee, offered wordlessly. They sat in his kitchen, sipping in silence, bodies tense for fear of inadvertently giving too much away. He spoke first, softly, almost timid. “When’s your flight?” “Around two, should probably head to my parents’ to say goodbye soon.” He nodded. “We can head over there whenever you’re ready.” “We?” she quirked her brow and bit back a smirk. “How else do ya think you’re gonna get to the airport, dummy?” He said as he placed his mug in the sink. He found himself frozen upon turning around, confronted with a beaming smile centered directly on him. Neither spoke. The air grew thick and hot around them, a question grew into a lump into his throat, pushed its way to the precipice of his tongue before he swallowed it back down and reached over to grab her empty mug. Her shoulders sunk ever so slightly with what he thought might be disappointment but he couldn’t be sure. “Thank you.” She said softly, “for the coffee and the ride” She paused for a moment. “And the weekend.” He smiled and shot her a quick wink. “Anytime, Sugar” It felt like physically holding herself together, trying not to melt in that moment, and she knew he saw the way she tensed up a bit.

Warm air and sunny skies greeted her as she stepped out of LAX, but a chill ran through her body nonetheless, frost emanating from what felt like an empty pit residing in her stomach. Her phone was already buzzing constantly, messages from her agent, her publicist, friends, everyone and anyone trying to get her attention now that her little “vacation” was over. With a sigh, she scrolled through the messages and eventually called her agent, grateful for the chance to throw herself back into work and shake off the icy blue chill that seemed to follow her all the way here.

LA was busy, there was always something to be done, someone to call or meet with, a script to read over, lines to learn, workout classes to take, personal grooming to be attended to. It kept her occupied, allowing for a distraction as her mind would wander. Even as months passed, her focus never fully narrowed, and there was only so much she could do before the scent of soap and pine needles and freshly cut wood began to seep through the edges of her imagination. They didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure what the protocol would be and they hadn’t had the time to talk about it so she just gave him space, wondering if he was still reeling from their rekindling as much as she was.

She went to parties, hung out with friends, but there was a vacancy there, like everyone looked right through her, or saw her as just another rung on their own ladder to success. She could feel the insincerity in their smiles, squeezing her close with bony, designer swaddled limbs and whispering “I missed you baby!” or “It’s so good to see you!” or “Bestie, how have you been!?” and then pulling away with a smug smirk like they knew they had just given the oscar-winning performance. She wanted nothing more than to tell somebody, anybody about Steve, about what she was going through, but she couldn’t trust anyone. Spilling to any of these people would have the tabloids on it in a second.

So she worked. And she gave her own insincere smiles and hellos that didn’t go below the surface. And she kept her head down. She made some decent movies. She put out some work that she was really proud of. She walked the red carpet alone. She was getting offers on a consistent basis now, being able to be more and more selective about what she wanted to work on. It wasn’t about survival anymore, it was about what she wanted. And suddenly she felt like she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

She stood on the red carpet for her last film of the year, a cheesy christmas romance that she only had a supporting role in, bombarded by photographers and people yelling her name. She flashed her perfectly practiced smile and straightened out her classic, deep red, floor length gown before leaving the mark for someone else. The shuttering of cameras, the screaming fans and paparazzi and stressed out PAs, the flashing lights, the similarly overstimulated and overworked stars all faded behind her as she walked into the darkness of the theater, and for one singular moment, for the first time in almost exactly a year, she felt peaceful. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to her assistant, changed my mind, actually do book me that ticket for tomorrow? You’re the best, and then she sat down to enjoy her cheesy, silly movie.

She pulled into the driveway in a rental car that smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Through the windows she could see her mother fussing about, putting decorations in place, getting the house in order. It looked warm inside. The flight had been long and her head hurt and her body ached but she found herself locked in place, white knuckles on the wheel. She couldn’t pry her fingers away to open the door. Her head was spinning and her chest felt tight until she let muscle memory take over as she shifted the car into reverse and suddenly everything felt clear. She followed the roads on autopilot, knowing exactly where she would end up but feeling not entirely sure until she arrived.

Stepping out of the car was easy this time. Too easy, in fact. She left it running, door open as she followed the magnetic pull to his front door, adorned with a vibrant, homemade pine wreath. Her heart felt like it was clawing its way out of her body through her throat as she reached a shaking hand up and knocked on the door. She held her breath for a few stunned, silent, panicked moments until she heard movement somewhere inside the house. The air came out of her all in a rush as the door opened and there Steve Rogers stood, right in front of her, live and in the flesh, blue eyes wide as they landed on her. “Hi.” seemed to be the only thing he could get out.

“Hi.” She responded breathlessly. They stood, staring at each other for a long moment, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak she cut him off, letting the words just tumble out. “I’m so sorry I left, I’ve been so miserable this whole year and I just missed you so much and I regret everything I never should have left at all.” she paused for a deep breath. “Would you mind if I stay?” She could barely finish her question before he was pulling her in close, threading a hand through her hair and wrapping the other around her waist, and kissing her like there was nothing else he could ever need but this. He pulled back gently and rested his forehead against hers. “Is that a yes?” She asked, breathlessly. “What? And have waited for you all this time for nothing? Course I wouldn’t mind, Sugar.” He whispered before pulling her in for another kiss, slow, lazy this time, for he had no reason to rush, she had no other place to be, and they had nothing but time.

#captain america #the avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogersxreader #captain america x reader #captain america/reader #captain americaxreader #steve rogers/you #fluff #mutual pining #idiots in love #reunion #high school exes reunited #no powers au #Taylor Swift inspired #tis the damn season

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imagineanythings · 2 years

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Whiskey Warmth Chapter 2

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Words: 9.5k

Chapter 2/2

Read Chapter 1

Before long, he could barely hear the gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it. Daryl has always been quiet, stoic, and a realist. On the road he meets someone with a completely different outlook on life. She's a rare ray of sunshine a world that loves to block out all light, but can she keep that light alive?

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, referenced attempted sexual assault

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The family reunion unfortunately didn’t last long. Despite their best efforts to arm themselves and prepare, those Terminus pricks were organized. Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Bob had been separated from the rest of the group when all hell had broken loose. They were making a mad dash back to where everyone else was hopefully fighting their way through when one of the Terminus assholes caught Daryl’s eye. He was a lanky guy wearing a distinct silver pendant on a necklace around his neck. Fire burned behind Daryl’s eyes and suddenly he could see nothing else. The group was moving quickly, and it was important that they stay in formation, but Daryl’s feet had already begun long before his brain could catch up. The rest of the world was drowned out seamlessly; cries to stay with the group barely even registered while Daryl was ducking behind a car, crouching and moving around it to position himself behind the Terminus idiot. Said idiot was firing haphazardly, everything moving a target, his eyes fixed ahead of him. Daryl wasted no time in grabbing him from behind and driving his stolen knife deep into the idiot’s back. He would have preferred a stab to the head or a slice to the neck, it would have been neater and ended things much faster, but if he could manage it, he wanted to keep blood off of that pendant. He removed the necklace as quickly as his shaking fingers would allow without breaking it and rushed to join back up with the group.

By some miracle everyone made it over the fence. And suddenly Carol was there, and Tyreese and Judith too, and it all felt too good to be true. Daryl felt like he was in some crazy dream. He half expected to jolt awake in some old warehouse with the claimers again. He likely wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he even gave himself a hard pinch on the arm just to make sure it all was real. For once in his life, Daryl Dixon had actually had some good luck. His group had nowhere to go, and no real sense of direction, but their little family was back together again, and that was all Daryl needed to feel at home. He was never really a “four walls and a roof” kind of guy anyway.

When they finally set up camp for the night, Daryl volunteered to take first watch. He placed himself on a large stump where he watched everyone begin to settle in for the night and Y/N came to sit beside him. For a moment he could almost imagine he was back in the guard tower, as she settled down beside him and her side pressed up against his, except for that haunted, empty look on her face.

“Missed coming to see you on watch.” She said after a small sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her face for a moment. “Missed knowing you were there on watch at all,” she said, much quieter, face still in her hands. Daryl grunted, hoping it would convey everything he couldn’t find the words to say. I’m sorry I wasn’t there and I missed ya too and I’m here to watch yer back now and maybe even I care about ya so damn much, I damn near lost it when I thought I lost you. He wasn’t sure if any of it came through.

“Grabbed somethin’ for ya on the way out.” His voice broke the few moments of stillness and silence. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and looked down at it in his hands for a moment. There was a small speck of dried blood on the pendant that he carefully wiped off before handing her the chain. He heard her breath catch in her throat and looked over to find tears in her eyes. The necklace was enclosed in her hands as she pressed it to her lips. She took a shaky breath and looked over at Daryl, eyes watery and red-rimmed. She held her hands out towards him, “Could you?” She asked quietly. His eyes moved from her face down to her hands, then back to her face. He nodded, and took the necklace back as she turned her back to him.

He reached up and gently pushed her hair to one side, he felt her inhale sharply as his fingers brushed the back of her neck. “Sorry” she spoke quietly as she quickly pulled her hair out of the way. Daryl quickly clasped the necklace, trying not to notice the goosebumps running over her soft skin, or the way she felt cool to the touch.

She reached up and held the pendant against her chest in a clenched fist, her eyes closed as she seemed to savor the feeling of the chain around her neck once again. Daryl shifted a bit uncomfortably. She opened her eyes and Daryl found them once again on the verge of overflowing. “Thank you Daryl. This-” her mouth hung open but no sound came out for a long moment. He gave her time. As she met his eyes she seemed to find her words again. “This means everything” She leaned in and planted a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek and then wrapped her arms around him for a quick moment. When she pulled back her eyes were red and puffy and full of an aching, empty sadness that Daryl knew all too well, but the corners of her mouth were upturned ever so slightly. Daryl would have given anything, done anything to see that full smile again.

With a gentle touch on the arm and about a million more whispered “thank you”s, she returned to her spot on the ground and the rest of the group settled down quickly, exhausted by their long day. Daryl surveyed his sleeping family and felt, for even just the briefest of moments, like maybe everything was going to be ok again.

Their group was tough. They always had been, if they hadn’t they never would have made it this far. That’s why they were all so shocked when they found that priest in the woods, talking about “the lord being all the protection he needed” or something like that. Personally, to Daryl that sounded like a one way ticket to meeting the big guy himself, if he’s even still up there. Daryl wasn’t so sure on any of that to begin with anyway. Even though they decided to stay in the church for the night, something didn’t sit right with Daryl. His hands twitched as he felt that familiar gut instinct to make himself scarce. He was outside dealing with Carol’s anxieties too when he saw that car with the same goddamn cross from when he lost Beth.

The decision took Daryl exactly five seconds. He looked at Carol. She didn’t trust the creepy father anyway and her face was set. She was in. He took a deep breath and looked at his own hands. He lost Beth, failed her. He didn’t protect her when he promised he would. He now had a chance to make good on that promise. Finally, he looked back towards the church. Maggie deserved to see her sister again, after all she’d lost. And Y/N. Beth was the only person who had ever rivaled her in optimism. She had taken Maggie and Beth in like her sisters. If there was any possibility, however slim, that bringing Beth back could light up her face the way it used to, then he would run after that car until the soles of his shoes wore out and then keep on going barefoot. All of those thoughts ran through Daryl’s head in the short span of a few glances, and in an instant, they were following at a safe distance, headlights out.

And they had actually found Beth. He had gotten Carol into a mess herself, but he had found her. And he was within mere moments of getting her back when the gunshot rang out. He could practically feel her arms wrapping around him, see that sweet smile and that inquisitive look when it all came crashing down. She was ripped away from him, he felt the part of her that she had managed to root in Daryl during their time together be torn violently from his chest. He had tried to prepare himself for the worst but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer agony that was no one’s fault but his own. Beth had fused herself to him, embedded her spirit in his veins, in the very blood that fueled his heart, into his muscles and organs, his very cells. When she hit the ground it was all ripped out in reluctant, clinging sinews.

Y/N had come with them, intent on helping bring back her friend. Daryl had to keep his eyes glued to Beth, her pretty golden hair matted with blood, a chunk of her skull and brain gone, her lifeless corpse now on the ground after a final moment of strength and defiance. Daryl felt a part of himself shatter as he watched. And yet, he knew he could only watch Beth, because if he turned around and saw the parts of Y/N that he had just destroyed he would never be whole again. No matter how much was ripped violently from him as he watched Beth, he knew it would be a paper cut compared to seeing the devastation he caused Y/N.

So instead he stepped forward and raised the barrel of his gun to that woman’s head and put a bullet between her goddamn eyes. It didn’t make him feel any better but at least it ended it. He might have kept shooting if he hadn’t felt a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t need to speak, and he didn’t need to even look at her, but at Y/N’s distinctive touch Daryl lowered his head and his weapon. He steeled himself and tried to maintain his composure, but with the gun Y/N also pulled away his rage and anger that had been keeping him together. As he looked down at what used to be Beth, the warmth of Y/N’s touch receded and the cold, unbridled tears began to fall.

He allowed himself a few moments before he picked Beth up in his arms, wondering why she seemed like she was smaller now than he remembered her being at the cemetery. He whispered in her ear, hoping that it would reach her somehow “I’m so sorry girl. I screwed up. I’m sorry.” He planted a soft kiss on her hair, and if he focused on just that one section right in front of his eyes, that small bit of unmarred, unbloodied blonde, he could almost imagine everything was normal, that he was just carrying her again because of her messed up ankle and not because he let some pig put a goddamn hole through her head.

And finally, after all that, his cheeks streaked and stained with tears and blood, and sweet, gentle Beth now lifeless in his arms, he had to turn around. He knew what was waiting behind him but he never could have prepared himself for what he was going to see. Y/N stood there, a violent splatter of her friend’s blood streaked across her shirt and face. She still held Daryl’s gun in her left hand, her right was balled into a fist at her side. Her eyes were wildly jumping around, focusing on Daryl, on Beth in Daryl’s arms, on the dead woman on the ground. He expected a look of horror, he had tried to prepare himself to see the woman he cared about most in the world fall apart in front of him, for that last shred of optimism and light to get ripped from his chest like everything else as he killed the last light he had. But besides the wide, slightly crazed look in her eyes, she looked almost calm. Her brow was furrowed, and her face seemed completely set. He could see the tension in her jaw from where he stood and he knew she was anything but calm, yet her eyes were clear, and she didn’t let her face betray her and indicate her emotions. Her eyes came to a rest on Daryl’s and she held his gaze for a brief moment before turning abruptly and stalking out of the building.

Daryl carried Beth the rest of the way outside and to the group. He tried so hard to hold back his tears, which he had worked to slowly gain control of as he walked through the building, because he knew the hell Maggie had to be going through. He didn’t want to make it worse with the sight of him blubbering like some baby and feeling sorry for himself. When he finally set her down to let the rest of the group take care of her he slid off to the other side of some cars and let out a violent sob. His whole body shook as he cursed whatever semblance of a god could possibly still be out there somewhere. Beth was one of the best of them. She didn’t deserve this. It still didn’t feel real, even as Daryl gingerly began to wipe her blood off of his hands. Even after feeling the weight of her completely limp body in his arms, Daryl still couldn’t comprehend that she was gone. The Georgian heat suddenly felt all consuming and Daryl felt like he was suffocating. As he placed his head in his hands he heard a quiet “hey” from above him. Y/N stood over him, no discernable emotion apparent in her features. Her face looked set, as if she was determined to maintain a neutral facade no matter what. That cold neutrality was becoming an increasingly and unsettlingly familiar look on her.

“Head up Dixon, we can’t afford to have you down like this.” It was all logic, no comfort. She held a hand out to him, which he took reluctantly. Her grip was tight and before he could prepare himself or start to push himself up he was yanked forcibly off the ground. In a split second he went from being face to face with the tips of her boots to staring into her eyes, their hands still tightly grasped between their chests. She moved to pull away but he held tight, searching her face for something, anything. He was all too aware of his wet cheeks, the puffiness around his eyes obscuring his vision, and yet he didn’t care. He was too busy looking for any of it on her.

Her eyes darted to his cheeks, and he could see her brow furrow and her lip quiver for just a moment, and he finally let go of her hand. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened immediately, and for a moment Daryl wondered if this is what it had felt like to hug him for so long. “Dixon, I’m fine. This is just part of-” she began to speak and it seemed like she was trying to squirm away.

“Shut up woman. Ain’t for you,” He said into the crook of her neck, where he had buried his face. He felt her relax a bit and wrap her arms around him the way she used to. For a single moment, as she reached up and rubbed circles on his back, Daryl could almost imagine that things had never changed, and that when he pulled away he would see a blinding light looking back at him and he would feel a warmth in his chest that almost felt like hope.

Instead a ghost met his eyes as they separated. Her eyes looked more sunken in than he remembered, and if he looked closely he was sure he could see the shine of tears forming. She reached up, patted him on the shoulder, gave him a quiet “take care now Dixon,” and a brief kiss on the cheek before she turned to head back to the group.

And just like that they were on the run again. Always moving, never settling, never enough resources for everyone. Daryl had taken to passing Y/N his food after taking a bite or two, and pretending that he didn’t notice when she gave all of it to Carl or anyone else who looked like they could use an extra portion. Although if he was being honest, that was pretty much everyone these days. At least this time they were heading somewhere, they had a goal in mind, they weren’t just chasing their tails trying not to get caught in the middle of a herd.

The group was moving slowly, a small group of walkers had begun to form behind them. They weren’t fast enough to be much of a threat, but no one was strong enough to handle them at the present moment. Y/N began throwing anxious glances over her shoulder every minute or so. Daryl could see the gears working in her brain, she was taking stock of the number of walkers, their group’s numbers and weapons, the terrain, everything that could impact the fight. He tried to remember if she had been this calculated and strategic, if he had ever known this version of her before. He pushed his pace a bit and fell into stride beside her. He held out his water bottle. “Water?” he asked. She stared at the bottle for a moment before slowly accepting. She took a small sip and handed it back with yet another glance over her shoulder. “Thanks” She said, but she was scowling. Daryl looked back and saw that the number of walkers had increased yet again.

“Nothin’ we can do about ‘em now” he said. She just shrugged.

“We can’t let our guard down. We’ve gotta take care of them before nightfall and I’m not risking this getting out of control with no backup plan if we don’t find a way to do that.”

“Gonna break yer neck whippin’ yer head back and forth like that” He said with a small shake of his head, hoping maybe that would draw even a small laugh out of her, but instead he was met with cold, determined silence. He followed her lead and set his eyes forward, and they walked along like that for a while, neither speaking, Y/N still checking behind her every minute.

Finally they reached a small bridge and Rick declared that they could make a stand here. Daryl looked over and saw a satisfied smirk on Y/N’s face. She didn’t show teeth and any joy she seemed to be feeling didn’t reach her eyes. Daryl felt a chill run through him as she reached down and pulled a knife from her belt. She had picked it up sometime after the prison fell and never went anywhere without it now. It was a long, cruel, menacing, military blade that glinted in the sun as she reflexively twirled it around her fingers once before setting her grip. She joked once that she had named it Vlad, after Vlad the impaler, and the self-satisfied smirk that painted her lips when Daryl let out a surprised chuckle was one of the closest things to a genuine smile he’d seen on her in a long time.

“Shouldn’t need that unless things go south” Rick said, much to Daryl’s relief. “We stay in formation, draw them to the side of the bridge, get ‘em off balance, and let ‘em fall.” Rick spoke with easy confidence and Y/N sheathed her knife with a disappointed, yet still respectful nod of understanding.

Everything was going according to plan when Sasha stepped forward and broke formation. They had only gotten through less than half of the herd when everyone had to pull out their weapons and fight. Daryl watched from further back with his bow, dropping the walkers he could, but the fighting was making it difficult to get a clean shot. Plus he kept getting distracted watching Y/N. There was a coldness and a level of skill to the way she moved that hadn’t been there at the prison. This was not the same woman who used to clumsily spar with him, throwing weak punches and tripping over her own feet. She could always take care of herself well enough, especially against walkers, but this ferocity was different from anything he’s ever seen her express. Daryl had to tear his eyes away from her and rush into the fight when he saw a walker approaching Rick from behind.

After Daryl dealt with the Walker that damn near cost Rick an arm, the fight ended quickly. Michonne looked like she wanted to wring Sasha’s neck and everyone looked fully drained. Y/N was standing in the middle of a pile of corpses, rotting blood matted down her hair and covered her clothes. Her eyes were glassy and blank, darting around and focusing on nothing in particular as she breathed heavily. Daryl walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she jerked in response. Her hand with the knife came up for half a second before her eyes centered on Daryl, who stood unflinching as she exhaled heavily. That feral look in her eyes melted away and the grimace of a smile she had been wearing drained from her face. He thought he almost caught a hint of shame in her eyes before she wiped her knife down on her shirt and sheathed it, lowering her gaze. Daryl let out a sort of questioning grunt, a wordless are you ok? Do you want to talk about any of that? But she dismissed him with a shake of her head, eyes unmoving from the pile of fresh corpses on the road. A whistle sounded from the front of the group and Daryl watched her eyes mechanically focus forward as she fell back into step with everyone else.

The days had all begun to blur together, the group moving, resting, hiding, running, aching, moving again. Honestly no matter how much of the other stuff they did, it felt like they were always just moving. Daryl looked around at the gaunt and fatigued faces of his family all around him and felt once again that feeling of utter and complete failure creeping in. He was so lost in his thoughts of how he was going to make it up to everyone that he almost didn’t notice the jugs and bottles of water tagged with a little note in the middle of the road. He eyed the offering suspiciously. As much as he wanted so badly to just believe that whoever left this really was a friend, after everything they’d been through it was much easier to believe this was a trap, or an attack, or a million other things that would get them all killed.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation when he heard Y/N speak up. He wasn’t sure exactly who or what she was responding to as she spoke, but her words made his skin crawl. “Goddammit let’s just keep fucking moving. There aren’t ‘good people’ anymore. There are no ‘friends’ ok? We are all we have. Everyone else will try to destroy that.” She shook her head, narrowed her eyes at a shaking Eugene, and turned to keep walking when the rain began to fall from the sky.

Daryl had never seen the air between everyone shift so suddenly, and he’d never seen relief like the looks of shock and excitement on his family’s faces. Everyone was staring up at the sky, some laughing, some crying, even Y/N’s lips had parted in amused shock as her eyes lifted to the sky. It was the happiest he’d seen her since he’d found her again.

Turns out the water really was from a “friend” or at least someone who wanted to help. That Aaron guy seemed pretty alright as far as Daryl could tell. He brought them back to his community, Alexandria, and the tension Daryl had been carrying for months was about to slip away when he looked over and saw Y/N’s eyes scanning the walls, brow quirked and skeptical. She was chewing on her lip. When had she picked that habit up? Daryl tried to remember if she’d always done that. Seemed that these days it was getting harder and harder to remember who she was back at the prison.

They complied with the gun policy, did the required interviews, and were led to their houses. The choice to all stay in one house for the night was simple and unanimous. People were still on edge, Daryl could feel it, but behind walls, in a house with electricity and running water, he could sense the tension slowly draining, the exhaustion of months of running finally taking its toll. He looked around the house for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be found until he spotted her through the window.

The cool night air drove out the stifling humidity of the day as the wood of the porch railing jutted into her skin where she balanced there, staring into the night. “That can’t be comfortable” Daryl called from behind her but she just shrugged, not even turning to look at him. He took a few steps forward and just waited. Easy silence hung between them for a long stretch of time. Eventually she turned her head and caught his eye.

“What’s going on, Dixon?” She raised an eyebrow and turned back to face the street again.

“Jus’ wanted ta let ya know the shower’s open in ya wan it. Everyone else’s gone.” She let out a suffocated laugh.

“I can smell from here that that’s just not true.” A half chuckle, hald grunt came from behind her and her lips curled upwards.

“Take a shower, woman. No one’s gonna slip by all us while yer off guard” She simply shrugged. He took a few steps forward and sat beside her on the railing. He felt their bodies pushed up against each other shoulder to shoulder and the warmth felt like home. A half-hearted laugh fell from her lips as her narrowed eyes scanned the homey little street.

“Not quite the view from the guard tower but it’ll do.” She spoke softly. He grunted affirmatively and when she leaned her head on his shoulder suddenly it did feel like the prison guard tower sat right there on the ground in that little Virginian town.

Against him she shuddered as a breeze ran through them. “Gonna go warm up?” He watched her closely from the side of his eye. She sighed.

“A shower does sound nice.” She relented and lifted her head, scanning the area one last time before looking over at him. “Show me where it is?” He gave an affirming nod and grunt in response before getting up and holding the door open for her. He showed her to the bathroom and then headed off to check on the rest of the group.

After checking on Carl and Judith, taking another look around the house for exits, weak points, and hiding spots, and checking in with Rick, he was on his way back downstairs when he heard her voice coming from the bathroom. It drew him in and instinctively he leaned closer to the door to hear more. It took a few moments but he realized she was singing. Her voice was clear and bright, exactly like he would have imagined it. Just as she had at one point, it seemed to float effortlessly above everything else, gentle and sweet amongst the darkness they lived in. He wasn’t entirely familiar with the tune, but with another step closer he began to make out some words

“If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song.”

He chose not to listen past that point, and instead hurried down the stairs and out the front door to take watch on the porch again. He sat there for a while, staring out into the night, manually forcing his lungs to open and close.

He heard her first, he could spot her mostly even but slightly hesitant gait anywhere. Ever since she had picked up that blade her right leg dragged just the slightest bit because of the weight, he could hear it now in just the few steps she took. So she was clean but still armed, he figured. He’d take his wins where he could get them.

Light steps led straight to him and the gentle hand on his shoulder confirmed the identity he already knew. He turned to look at her and his breath caught in his throat for a millisecond. She wore clean clothes, like he had guessed, her knife was still strapped to her thigh, and her hair hung, wet, messily framing her face. Her features were suddenly so strong when not obscured by a layer of grime and dirt. Her eyes were soft in a way that he hadn’t seen in who knows how long, and he slowly realized that after all this time he had begun to forget what she really looked like.

“You ok?” Her voice held a gentleness he had firmly believed to be dead prior to this moment. He nodded and she settled down beside him again.

“Are you gonna shower at some point? It actually was nice.” She offered and he grunted with a shrug. “Feels good to be clean,” she observed but was met with more silence. “I’m worried about feeling too good too fast though. About letting our guard down before we know it’s safe.” He nodded.

“I know whatcha mean, I’m worried about that too. Feels like this place might be alright though,” Her eyes widened in shock as he spoke.

“You’re the last person I would’ve expected to hear that from, Dixon.” He shook his head.

“Well, yer the first one I’d’ve expected it from. But look at us now.” he bit back unintentionally. They sat in the silence and he sighed. “Don’t know. Maybe ‘s jus’ wishful thinkin’, but feels like the people here are jus’ stupid, not dangerous.” She sighed in response and a small silence separated them. He could feel her thinking it over, could practically hear her mind running at a million miles per hour through the possibilities. For once, he was the one to break the silence.

“Haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and talk like this, jus’ the two of us, for real, since...” He paused, sadness spreading with the realization “not since the prison.”

He could see the tears in her eyes. “Never even got a real chance to catch up, did we? On all that we missed?” That drew a sad sort of chuckle from deep in his chest, more an attempt to fill the space than an expression of emotion. “You first?” she offered and grunted affirmatively.

He gave her a brief overview of his time alone with Beth, losing her, that much she’d heard bits and pieces of. Then he got to the claimers. He tried to keep details of that to a minimum, didn’t like thinking about them longer than he needed to. Then finding Rick, following the tracks, and getting back to everyone. She listened attentively, and rested a warm hand on his arm when he finished.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m so glad you made it back to us” Her words felt genuine and held kindness reminiscent of a person she used to be. Despite the overflow of tears in her eyes he could detect some happiness present in her voice.

“Alright, I’ve said more ‘n enough, yer turn” a sorry attempt to deflect away from the level of emotion he’d caused, but she wiped her tears and nodded nonetheless.

“Honestly, it sucked” a defeated laugh escaped with the words before she steadied herself and continued. “I was with a few people at first. Three guys from Woodbury I think. No one I was really close to, but they were all I had left. I wanted to stay and look for everyone, but at that point they figured we should just cut our losses and move on. I was outvoted. So we moved, bottom line just tried to keep moving and stay alive. We did ok for a bit. Moved between grocery stores, gas stations, that kind of stuff. One day we took a pretty long trip, the town we had been in for a while was plucked dry. We drove some of the way but gas was scarce so we ended up having to walk. Ran into a small group of walkers but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. Except...” her voice broke and Daryl could see the tears falling freely. “Except when we had taken care of the walkers next thing I knew there was a knife at my throat. Didn’t even have time to react, these men killed the guys I was with, all at once. And I was alone” She swallowed before continuing. “So they had me there, I can still feel the knife against my throat. And I realize if they just wanted us dead, I wouldn’t still be standing. And it all...” she rubbed her shaking hands on her pants and let out a shallow exhale. “It all clicked... what they wanted with me” her voice completely failed by that last word and Daryl reached out and took her hand. His blood was boiling but he used every ounce of self control he had to appear calm for her.

“Ya don’t have ta go into all this if ya don’t want to,” he was reassuring but she shook her head.

“No, it’s probably better not to keep it all inside.” He nodded and let her take her time before starting again. She took deep breaths and when she finally spoke again her voice had a deliberate and practiced evenness to it. “I wasn’t gonna let them. I was gonna die before I let them do anything to me. I fought. But there were too many of them. Few of them suggested they just kill me, cause it’d be ‘easier’ that way. In that moment I was so sure...” she paused for a long moment and let only the sound of her labored breathing hang between them. “I was so sure I was going to die. They almost had me completely knocked out when someone came in faster than I could keep track of in that state and took them all out. She saved me. I don’t like to think about what would have happened if she hadn’t been there.”

He could see her body shaking and squeezed her hand tighter in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. She gave him an appreciative nod and continued.

“She let me stay with her. She was set up in this apartment over an old record store, it was a weird place but she had it tricked out well enough that it worked. She taught me how to fight, how to stay alive on my own. Kind of like how you used to, except this time I had real, genuine horror keeping me motivated. I owe her everything. She taught me how to be ok on my own, and how to protect myself.. She showed me how important it was to be strong and prepared. One day we went on a run and a herd swept through. We were caught completely off-guard and we were stuck. She gave me her knife and told me to run and not look back, that she could lure enough of them away for me to get out and then she’d loop back to me. I did what she told me, but she never made it to the meeting point.” She choked on a sob and took a heavy inhale. “I waited, Daryl.” His heart ached at the grating of her voice, the audible effect of tears clogging her vocal chords as her knuckles turned white gripping the knife at her side. “But the area was getting swarmed again, if I waited much longer I’d never make it out. So I left.” At this point he wrapped an arm around her and let her head rest on his shoulder.

“She gave me everything she had and more. I could never repay her, not in a million years. And I left her to die. So I kept running, because what else could I do? And that’s when I found the signs for Terminus. I honestly wasn’t even thinking about the group at that point. I had mourned all of you. I thought all of you were gone. I just wanted to stop. ‘Sanctuary for all’ seemed like a pretty good place to go. So I went. And against all odds I actually found everyone. And I’m never going to let anything happen to the people I care about ever again.”

Daryl sighed and wrapped both of his arms around her for a proper hug. “Shit woman, ya really been through hell.” He squeezed a bit tighter as he inhaled her scent. She smelled clean, far too clean to touch, and he instinctively pulled away. “Ya know ya can’t always control that kinda stuff.” He said and let her take his hand again.

“Yeah, but it’s better than doing nothing, or being unprepared like I used to be.” She said with a sigh and he nodded.

“Ya changed a lot. Since the prison.”

“How so?” her eyebrow raised the tiniest bit as she spoke and he was genuinely baffled that she didn’t see what felt like night and day to him.

“Ya used to be this...” he fumbled for a few moments before he found what he needed, “this big ball of light, mos’ optimistic person I’ve ever met. Ya grew up a bit. Let the darkness of everything get to ya. I mean, I-I heard ya singin in th’ shower, and ya got a real pretty voice, I jus’ wish ya wouldn’t sing such a sad song. And I haven’t seen ya smile, I mean really smile, since the prison. Yer still my sunshine, but ya got stuck in some crap weather if ya don’t mind me sayin’.” Her eyes widened as she processed his words, and he let her take her time. He could see the gears turning, she was going through all of it, trying to connect the dots, to prove him wrong somehow. He watched her search her catalog for smiles and her face fall as she came up empty handed. “Ya used ta see the bright side of everythin’, now I’m lucky if ya even smirk. It’s like... like I don’t know how ta keep my head up if I ain’t got ya there ta remind me” He didn’t think, just let the words he’d been holding onto come out but her shocked expression made him wish he’d just kept his trap shut.

“Didn’t realize that was my responsibility.” Her voice faltered. “I’m sorry I let you down.” She trembled slightly as she stood up to walk away but he caught her wrist in an echo of something that felt like a whole lifetime ago, the same gentle question of a grasp.

“Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. Ya been through a lot.” his voice was low and earnest. She held eye contact with him for a moment before she pulled herself away and bolted for the door. He watched her go, and as the door closed behind her the air felt much colder than it had a moment ago.

Deanna came around later that night assigning people jobs. Daryl did not receive one. He was a bit shocked, seeing as this version of the world was the only one that he ever really felt useful in, but he tried to push those feelings of inadequacy down. Y/N was assigned to the infirmary, and Daryl couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times she stitched him up, how his body would be littered with deep, gnarly scars by now if not for her delicate and gentle hands. It stung when she refused to talk to him for a few days. Seemed like she wasn’t doing much talking to anyone except for Rick and Maggie at that point. She was still chewing her bottom lip and darting glances towards the exits throughout the day. She eyed the guards on top of the wall suspiciously and never returned the hello’s of Alexandrians passing by. A pit sat heavy in Daryl’s stomach as he watched her remain tight and guarded against all the signs that it could be time to relax. She would come home from the infirmary and settle into her watchful position on the front porch, cleaning her knife and scanning the horizon. Daryl wanted to talk to her but unsurprisingly he found himself lacking the words. Plus she clearly didn’t want to talk to him. She would barely look at him these days.

When Aaron approached Daryl about becoming his partner for recruiting, Daryl couldn’t say yes fast enough. He was getting stir crazy inside the walls with nothing to do, plus he couldn’t really stand to watch Y/N like this anymore. He had tried staying close and being insistent and sharing his feelings and all that got him was iced out. He needed space and open air to just breathe. Within a few days he was packing up to go out on his first run. As he was closing up his bag, he was shocked to see Y/N come storming into the room, her eyes alight with anger.

“So you were just gonna leave? You weren’t planning on telling me you’d taken this job or saying goodbye?” Her breathing was heavy, her face was flushed, he figured she had come running straight from the infirmary and felt some inexplicable pang in his chest.

“Ain’t leavin’ fer good, woman. Just a run.” He kept his tone calm and nonchalant but she wasn’t having it.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s just a run! You’re going to just leave me here? With these people?” Her voice broke a bit and he could hear genuine fear in it.

“People are fine. A bit clueless, but harmless. And I know ya can take care of yerself.” He began. “Plus ya haven’t seemed to need me much since the first night.” He added, much quieter.

“Dixon I-” she began but the words seemed to catch in her throat. She closed her mouth and thought for a minute, and Daryl gave her the space to do so. “They aren’t all clueless. Some of them are just bad.” She took a shaky breath. “Like...” She seemed to be forcing the words out at this point. “Like Pete. He says all this stuff and tries to grab at me all the time and I think he’s hurting his wife and sons and I don’t know if I can work in the infirmary anymore Daryl. I just can’t be in there with him and I know I’ve been distant, I’m sorry, I just needed space to think, I just can’t be there with him if you’re not here. What am I supposed to do if he does something?” Once she had started, the words came rushing out like air from a balloon and now she stood in front of him, anger all gone, looking deeply deflated.

“Didn’t know that. Don’ really know the guy.” Daryl started, proceeding quietly and with some caution and care. “Ya don’t have ta go there. We can talk ta Deeana, get ya reassigned. And Rick’s gonna be here, ya know you can always go to him.” Daryl reached out and took her hand. She squeezed his hand and then pulled him close and buried her face in his chest. Daryl held her tightly, smoothing down her hair and trying to be as comforting as he could. She let out a deep sigh and he could feel her body expand and contract with the breath.

“I want to help people. I’m good at it. I’ve gotta keep doing it. I just don’t understand why you have to go.”

“It’s my job, ‘s what I’m good at. Same as you, I gotta do it. Gotta earn my keep ‘round here.” He spoke with a sigh. “Won’t be gone more than a few days, promise yer gonna be ok.” He tilted her chin up so she could look at him. “‘N if that bastard tries anything, ya tell me when I get back and Imma cut his fuckin’ hands off.” He spoke with deadly seriousness and was absolutely shocked when she burst out into a genuine giggle. It wasn’t quite the sunbeam smile he’d been longing for, but it still felt like an oasis in the desert.

Hope filled his chest as she whispered a quiet “thank you, you be careful out there and come back safe for me ok?” and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You got it.” He said and she looked the most relaxed he’d seen her in a long time.

The run was a lot more intense than Daryl had expected, although he welcomed the distraction. It was nice to just think about surviving and finding people, to not have so many complex thoughts and emotions to keep track of. They met Rick’s friend Morgan while in a tough spot and brought him back to Alexandria with them. They made it back just in time to see Rick kill Pete. Daryl could sense the tension and possibly fear in Morgan beside him but he, personally, was grateful. He had spent much of his time outside the walls thinking about the ways he’d kill that bastard himself if he laid a hand on Y/N or anyone else. As Morgan and Rick stared each other down for a long moment, each assessing the person they thought they knew, Daryl scanned the crowd. He found her almost instantly. She was staring at Pete’s body with that cold neutrality that he had come to hate so much. He made his way through the crowd to stand next to her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Shame Rick beat me to it, had a whole plan to skin the bastard alive,” She broke from her stupor and looked up at Daryl in surprise. After a moment of shock she threw her arms around Daryl’s neck and clung to him tightly. “You’re back” she said, and he allowed a slight warmth of hope to radiate from within him as he thought he could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.

“Couldn’t leave ya here all by yerself fer too long now, could I?” he said and as she pulled back from the hug to look at him his heart damn near stopped. She still had her arms around his neck, like she was afraid that if she let go he might disappear again, and she was smiling at him, it was small, not quite as blinding compared to what Daryl once was accustomed to, but the light in her eyes warmed him to his core. He felt like he could barely breathe or speak so he just pulled her back close to him.

“Missed ya,” He finally said after he caught his breath.

“Missed you too.” She whispered back and there was no mistaking it this time, he could feel the gentle warmth pressed up against his neck.

“Head home?” He asked. She nodded and hesitantly pulled away from him. She took his hand in hers, pressed a kiss to the back of it, and her lip corners drew the slightest bit further upwards as her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Daryl felt like he was going to pass out. They wandered slowly back to the house, hand in hand, Y/N filling Daryl in on everything he had missed.

People settled into life under Rick’s leadership fairly well. There were some stubborn ones, but that was to be expected. It made Daryl smile to see the tension slowly escape Y/N’s shoulders, her eyes stop darting to the gate, her hand begin to rest on her hips or at her side instead of on her blade. It seemed like everyone was really settling in. Some of their little group had even begun to split off into their own houses, it felt like this really was a place that they could settle down in, that they could defend and make their home. Daryl hadn’t left the original house yet, he left so often that he didn’t pay too much attention to where he stayed when he was back.

Y/N rinsed her hands in the infirmary sink and dried them off before saying a quick goodbye and thank you to Denise. She was having a rough day. Someone came in with a really bad injury, lost a lot of blood, dealing with a potential infection. They had spent the entire day just trying to stabilize him. Once he was sleeping, Denise insisted Y/N head home to shower and get a bit of rest. She begrudgingly obliged and walked home as the sun began to sink below the horizon. She approached the house to find Daryl, perched on the porch railing where she had spent many sleepless nights when they had first arrived, cleaning his knife, crossbow slung over his back. “Daryl!” She ran to hug him but his face dropped as he saw her. In an instant he was off of the porch and into the street, one hand on her cheek, the other gently touching her side where a particularly nasty bloodstain resided.

“Y/N! The hell happened to you? Gotta getcha to th’ infirmary, see Denise.” He began to try to hoist her over his shoulder when she put a hand on his arm and held him back.

“I’m alright Dixon, it isn’t mine, slow your roll.” Y/N had a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched him calm.

“Dammit Woman, ya can’t scare me like that.” He pulled her into a hug that she hesitantly accepted but quickly pulled away from.

“Gonna get blood all over you. Let me shower and then I’ll give you a proper hug?” He grunted affirmatively and she let out a small giggle. “See you in a minute, Dixon. Glad to have you back.” She called over her shoulder as she disappeared through the door, leaving Daryl standing alone in the street. After he shook off the shock and let out a deep breath, he headed into the house as well. He went upstairs to change out of his bloodstained shirt but on his way back he paused by the bathroom. A soft, lilting singing voice carried out from behind the door, one he hadn’t heard since the group’s first night in Alexandria. The voice was the same, but the song was different this time.

“Little darlin’, I feel that ice is slowly meltin’, little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been clear. Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo, here comes the sun and I say it’s alright”

Warmth spread through Daryl’s body from his fingertips as he listened to her sweet, gentle voice. He stayed through the end of the song, forehead resting on the door so he could listen properly. He let her voice wash over him like warm water, his shoulders dropped as the tension drained from his body. After a minute the water shut off and he instinctively jumped back from the door, but couldn’t bring himself to move from that spot, despite his best efforts, so when the door swung open, he found himself face to face with her. She was wrapped in a towel, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water, her hair still dripping a bit onto her bare shoulders. Daryl felt like his face was inches away from hot coals as he opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Hi Daryl,” she said, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Sounded real nice.” Daryl’s eyes fell to the floor and he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. “Ya got a real pretty voice, ‘n I like that song lot better than that other one ya sang a while back,” Before she could respond Daryl took off for the door, face turning crimson, heart doing wind sprints in his chest. Had he not been in such a panic, he might have seen the beginnings of lip corners turning upwards and eyes lighting up before he ran off. If he had even raised his eyes from the floor for a moment he might have seen the makings of something he’d been missing for what felt like a lifetime. Instead, he stepped outside and just began to walk, trying to shake the warm, jittery feeling that was pooling in his chest and stomach. He found himself at the base of the wall by the gate, and ended up relieving Abraham of his watch. On top of the wall, with the horizon ahead of him and the open air around him, his lungs finally felt functional again.

He stood up there in comfortable silence watching the sun begin to set, and as soon as normalcy felt like it was returning and his body had calmed, there she was, standing at the edge of the platform, hair still wet, and his heart crawled right back up into his throat. She took a few steps towards him, and he stayed stuck to the spot where he stood.

“You ran off on me there, Dixon.” she said. He grunted.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’ mean ta make ya uncomfortable. Jus’ sounded really pretty ‘s all.” He spoke sheepishly but forced himself to look up and meet her eyes. To his surprise she had a broad grin spread across her face.

“You really liked it?” She asked and took another step closer. She was close enough that he could now see her cheeks tinting a deep rosey color. He nodded.

“Might’ve been th’ most beautiful thing I ever heard.” He admitted. She let out a quick exhale and seemed to take a moment to steady herself.

“Never got to give you that hug,” She stepped right up to him now and wrapped her arms around his middle, he pulled her in close and immediately sighed into the contact. She smelled clean and fresh and when he closed his eyes there was nothing but her. Her smell in his nose, her body pressed against his, the sound of her soft breath against his chest. “Hate it when you leave.” Her words were muffled as she spoke, still buried in his shirt.

“I know, ‘m sorry. Promise I hate leavin’ ya more,” he spoke without thinking and she pulled away slightly to look at him.

“You do?” Her eyes were wide as she looked up. He grunted affirmatively.

“Course I do. Yer the one who said ya were gonna be my best friend, don’t know why ya look so surprised I don’ like leavin’ ya behind.” Her lips parted into a gentle and full smile that sat in his stomach like a shot of whiskey and propelled him forward like true liquid courage as he pressed his lips gently to hers. It only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back and watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. Her eyes opened slowly and she reached a hand up and placed it gently on Daryl’s cheek and slowly broke out into a wide, full smile that Daryl hadn’t seen in years. Her eyes sparkled as they seemed to water a bit. Daryl felt like he could cry too, as he felt a warmth that he thought was lost forever. In the light of the setting sun Daryl could have sworn he had never seen anything so beautiful as Y/N beaming in his arms.

“I ever tell ya that you’ve got the most beautiful smile I ever seen?” Daryl whispered, and she just let out a teary laugh.

“Oh you hush Dixon.” She said and kissed him again. It was tender and gentle and a million words passed between them in the silence. Finally he pulled away and lifted her off of her feet and spun her around, relishing in the sounds of her delighted, uncontrolled laughter. He set her back down gently and gave her another quick kiss.

“Been wantin’ to do that fer a long time now,” he said quietly. She placed a kiss on his cheek the way she had a million times before, and his skin tingled with the electricity of her contact like it always did, but it didn’t paralyze his lungs the way it used to. It sped his pulse and warmth spread from that tiny point on his cheek throughout his whole body. When she pulled away she had that laser beam of a smile fixed on him again, but it didn’t burn anymore, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl was overjoyed to stand in the light of the sun.

#The Walking Dead #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon/Reader #daryl dixonxreader #daryl dixon / reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #a bit of angst #comfort #walking dead fanfiction

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imagineanythings · 2 years

Text

The 1 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2.1k

This is the first of a new series I'm doing of one-shots based on Taylor Swift's albums Folklore and Evermore. They are storytelling GOLD!! If ppl have ideas or requests for pairings for other songs let me know!

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She stumbled home, cobblestone sending jolts up her legs, winter air sharp in her lungs. The phone that dangled from her limp and forgotten wrist was opened to a text conversation long abandoned. As she leant against the side of her apartment building for a moment she studied the old texts again. The words were blurry and almost illegible with alcohol, but she didn’t need to see them to remember.

At least five years earlier, she sat under the stars, her feet dangling and submerged in cool water of the local public pool. The summer air was stifling. “I can’t believe you actually broke us in here.” She practically gawked at him as she rested her head on his shoulder, fidgeting with the dogtags that hung around his neck. She shook with him as he chuckled. “Told ya it was the best way to beat the heat.” A metal arm snaked around her, supporting her as she let herself lean her full weight onto his shoulder. They sat, basking in starlight, silence surrounding them for a long while, before he spoke again. “I didn’t just bring you here to cool off,” he admitted. She picked her head up from his shoulder so she could look at him. “Oh really?” he nodded in response, “Why are we here then?” she asked. He simply gave her a satisfied smirk and pulled out two pennies. After a moment of confused silence he held them out to her and whispered “wishes.”

“I don’t think those are going to work here. It’s not like this is a fountain or anything, it’s just a regular pool,” she said, but he simply shrugged in response, clenched one in his fist with closed eyes, and then tossed it into the pool. She laughed, but held out her hand anyway.

“What’re you gonna wish for?” He asked with a wry smile. She shook her head.

“You know I can’t tell you! Then it won’t come true!”

“You don’t know that. This is a swimming pool! The rules could be different.” He pushed but she simply closed her eyes and held a penny in a clenched fist close to her heart. She knew exactly what she wanted. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and flicked the penny into the pool. The wink she shot him sent him into a cascade of shoulder-shaking laughter. He pulled her in close and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asked as she turned her head to look up at him, In lieu of a response she gave him a quick kiss on his lips, before moving to get up but he held her close. He pulled her in tighter and kissed her again. It was gentle and lingering, warmth radiating from their points of contact. He pulled back, just barely, still inches away from her face. “Bucky Barnes,” she began breathlessly, “I love you,” he smiled at her admission.

“I love you too doll,” he spoke before kissing her once more. Those words having passed between them for the first time, she felt them present in the way he kissed her. Every single thing that they say you should feel, sparks, fireworks, butterflies, you name it, she swore she felt them all. And as he pulled back to look at her again, she had a feeling that her wish had come true.

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she shut her phone off. She knew better than this, than to dig this grave up again of her own volition, to reminisce on and regret things long gone. It really had looked like him though. She had been walking home from drinks with friends when she first spotted a familiar silhouette waiting for the bus. Then she saw the messy bun of dark hair and she stopped in her tracks altogether. But then he turned and the face wasn’t right and she remembered that he’d cut his hair a year ago, not long after they had broken up, and had worn it short ever since. She had always loved his hair.

Two years ago she sat on the end of their bed, mascara painting her cheeks. He stood across the room, eyes on the floor. Silence had hung heavy between them for an indeterminable yet agonizing amount of time. “I’m sorry.” he shattered the silence and she shook her head.

“No, I’m sorry.” She sighed and looked up, hoping to meet his eyes but finding only his vacant stare pointed at the ground. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.” He practically growled in response.

“That’s not on you. I shouldn’t have put my fucking hands on you” Her hand went instinctively towards her neck, metal fingers still imprinted, stinging on the skin. “That’s never ok.” His voice broke and she could hear how exhausted and in pain he was.

“James.” Her use of his name like that, a bit strangled like her heart was in her throat blocking it from coming all the way out, raised his eyes from the floor and he met hers. “It is not your fault. It was just a nightmare. I’m ok.” He let out a frustrated sigh and hung his head.

“It’s been years. Nothing’s changed. I’m always going to end up hurting people,” He picked his head up, “even you.” Now she sighed.

“I trust you with my life. We can figure this out.” Her voice came out steady and confident despite her insides feeling like mush. He didn’t respond, instead he sulked to the bathroom and turned on the shower for her before rushing out of the room. She sat in the silence for a moment before allowing herself to rise and settle under the warmth of flowing water. She found him asleep on the couch in the morning, heart aching to see him curled up alone like that, metal arm held tightly against his chest.

She entered her apartment and stepped out of her uncomfortable heels and unzipped her dress, relinquished the tension of being on display for anyone and everyone. Instinctively, she stepped into a scalding shower. The sting of the hot water washed and boiled away anything else on her mind, it always did. In a fluffy robe, feeling clean and reset, she stared out over the New York skyline. A view that she had earned for herself. She saw again in her mind the silhouette at the bus stop, and a fond smile reflected back to her in the glass of the window. It is a bit lonely at the top. She thought to herself with a warm sadness as she climbed into her all-too-large, all-too-empty bed.

A year ago things had been going well. He was in therapy, the nightmares were subsiding, it felt like they were settling into something even more safe and comfortable than they’d been in before. She had just come home from work to find him lying on the couch, half-heartedly reading a book. “Hi,” she said with a smile as she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss, which he tensely reciprocated. “Are you ok?” she asked as she settled down next to him. He let out a shaky sigh, waves of tension radiating from him.

“Not really,” he started, and she quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s up?” she asked but they just sat in silence for a few moments and he looked like he was going to puke. His nervousness was starting to rub off on her. “James, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me,” she pressed a bit further.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” He rushed words out finally.

“What?”

“I mean... when was the last time you prioritized yourself? When was the last time you didn’t feel like you had to think about me? Didn’t worry about me?” Once he started the words just started to fall out.

“Buck I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve just...” he paused to think for a long moment, “I realized that you spend the majority of your time with me, checking on me. When was the last time you went out with your friends?” She opened her mouth quickly to answer but was left stunned for a long moment when she realized she couldn’t remember. He continued, “Didn’t you just lose out on that promotion at work a week ago? Why was that?” He asked. She jumped in quickly this time.

“No, that one was on me. I wasn’t as prepared so they gave the promotion to someone who was ready for it.” He shook his head.

“Doll.” he inhaled deeply, like going on was going to be like pulling out a deep splinter, something requiring a large exhale to assuage the pain. “I had a panic attack. A couple of weeks ago. I had another nightmare and I freaked out and you spent all day and all night taking care of me.” Those last few words had a bite to them that stung deeply. “And you didn’t have time to work on that presentation. The one that you said was make or break for your future at the company.” Tears blurred his eyes now, and her own eyes were quickly threatening to follow suit.

“James, you matter more to me than a dumb job. It’s ok.” She took his hand, unable to not notice his initial flinching at the gesture.

“Y/N, I love you more than anything. That’s why I’m saying this. It wasn’t just that promotion, it's been a million other things, you call out sick all the time, go in late, put off your work, miss nights with your friends, jeopardize your future and a job that I know you love, just because I can’t be ok. It isn’t fair to you.” She shook her head, tears now making good on their threats and then some, racing down her cheeks faster than her mind had caught up to what he was trying to say, what he was trying to do. He didn’t let her speak though, his voice came out quieter, and a bit more shy.

“It’s also not fair to me. I know what I’m doing to you is worse. By a lot, I know. But I’ve talked it out a lot in therapy and I lean on you so hard. It’s not fair to put that pressure on you, and I don’t know if I can ever get better if you’re always there to catch me when I fall.”

“So you’re breaking up with me because I’m too good at being there for you,” Her voice broke with his heart as she choked on her words.

“No, that’s over simplifying it. Trust me I don’t want this either, but-”

“Then why are you doing it, James?!” She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out with such an angry desperation. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped his hand.

“When was the last time something that wasn’t me made you happy? You look deflated almost every time you come through that door. You’re exhausted, isolated, and I know you get frustrated with me so don’t try to act like you don’t.” His voice shook now. She stared at him in a shocked silence and he let her process. After a few painful minutes she spoke, her voice soft, but biting. “So this is it then?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore.

A year after the false sighting at the bus stop, she found herself wandering down the same street, coming home from a late night at the office. An email from one of the interns stuck late asking for clarification about something stopped her in her tracks as she typed out a quick response. She looked up from her phone and took a step forward before she was frozen again, this time by a pair of piercing blue eyes beneath a dark, close cropped, haircut. He stood a good ten feet away, clearly waiting for the bus, dog tags hanging out of his shirt, glove on his left hand like always. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, neither willing to move any closer, afraid of what that might cause. Instead, he simply raised his gloved hand, and with a sad smile, gave her a small wave. She returned it as the bus pulled up, and after one last, lingering glance, he turned away and stepped on board. She stood, stuck to that spot on the street for a long minute after the bus was well out of sight, remembering a wish she had made on a penny in a public pool years ago. It would have been fun, if he would’ve been the one.

#marvel #avengers #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnesxreader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes / reader #reader/bucky barnes #reader / bucky barnes #reader x bucky barnes #angst #taylor swift inspired #break-up #breakup #some fluff #not much #but some

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imagineanythings · 2 years

Text

Say it Without Words (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Just something small from the dialogue prompt "I've spent the last five minutes trying to figure out what kind of game you're playing."

Daryl and the reader express their feelings and appreciation in ways other than words, but they struggle to be on the same page with their unspoken bond.

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Words had never been your strong suit. Particularly when it came to affection, you preferred to show that you cared through other, nonverbal means. You especially found the deepest satisfaction in kind gestures, and always looked out for ways to show people you cared. Since the end of the world you had discovered a new and deep appreciation for quality time. Feeling complete safety around people had become a luxury, one that you would bask in whenever you had the chance. As time went on, you became a bit of a shadow to the people you cared most about. It wasn’t like you had been much of a loner before, so the difference wasn’t entirely noticeable, but you found yourself drawn more and more to the people that made you feel completely and utterly safe. One more so than others.

You’d sit on the edge of the guard tower platform, legs dangling beneath you, eyes on the horizon, while he stood a few feet away, elbows resting on the railing, scanning for threats. You’d stoke up the fire as he worked on making his bolts. You’d sit next to him, shoulders centimeters away from brushing as you ate your meals in comfortable and contented silence. When he left on runs you’d attach to other people, but for the most part you would spend the time trying to keep busy and be helpful. He’d come back home to a full wood pile, sticks and feathers for making bolts, his room tidied, and a single wildflower in the beer bottle vase you’d put on his dresser when he’d first moved in and expressed hesitancy to sleep in a cell. Neither of you acknowledged any of it, save for the occasional appreciative grunt and obliging nod you’d exchange. You preferred it that way. You both hardly spoke to begin with and you liked it like that. Words got messy and confusing and could mean a million different things at once. Actions felt clear.

He was leaving for a particularly long run. Something about having cleaned out a lot of places nearby, wanting to go further out. The specifics didn’t bother you, he knew what he was doing. You were more concerned with how to busy yourself for the next few days. You began by sharpening the knives he’d left behind, too dull to consider bringing with him. You cleaned up his little room a few times over, and spent a day gathering plenty of material for his bolts. It felt like you had been moving around non-stop and yet you still felt restless. You were on your fourth or fifth aimless walk around the prison when you ran into Maggie who was on her way to the makeshift school in the library. She convinced you to join and spend some time with all of the kids to take your mind off of everything. You followed happily. “They just make you feel optimistic about the future, don’t they?” She said, staring off into the distance with a haunted smile. You could easily track her gaze to the gate that Glenn had left through a couple of days ago with Daryl and the rest of them.

The kids were doing arts and crafts today. Glenn had found a little jewelry making kit somewhere and brought it back, so everyone was making little necklaces and bracelets for themselves and their loved ones. As you sat down and sifted through the materials, a small pendant caught your eye. It was a little silver arrow in the midst of all the trinkets and charms. Without hesitation you scooped it up, running your fingers over it. You grabbed a few strands of leather cord and began to weave a little braided rope. At what felt like the middle, you slid the pendant onto one of the cords and finished braiding, keeping it in place. After it was all tied off you held it up in front of your face and studied it with a satisfied smile. Later that night, you slipped into his room and placed the little necklace on the pillow of his bed. You left no note, no signifier of who it was from, and stepped back out into the cell block.

When he finally returned, most things were as they usually were, the pile of bolt materials, the neat room, but this time there were three, vibrant blue wildflowers in the vase instead of a single one, and a small necklace laid on his pillow. After a long bit of contemplation, he came bolting out into the courtyard in a wild search. He could see the unmistakable legs dangling over the edge of the guard tower platform and wasted no time rushing up there.

You jolted as he slammed the door open and dangled the pendant in your face from his shaking fist. “Th’ hell is this?” he asked, voice trembling, but not with fear. Your brows furrowed but you didn’t flinch or move away.

“I made it for you, thought you’d like it.” You said, voice steady and even.

“God dammit woman! Whatever ya want with me, why don’t ya just tell me?!” He turned and paced away before coming back again. Your voice came to you still in low tones but it now dripped with intensity.

“What?” you asked, your confusion genuine.

“Come on! Ya know what ‘m talkin’ about!” He said, getting angrier. “I was just stood there fer the last five minutes tryna figure out what kinda game yer playin’!” You just shook your head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not playing any games.” You responded, but he just shook his head, disbelieving.

“Followin’ me around, cleanin’ ma room, makin’ me this, don’t know if yer tryna make fun of me or laugh at me, or tease me, or tryna get me to feel like I owe you special favors, but ‘m sick a it.” Your brow furrowed somehow even further before abruptly softening as his words truly sunk in.

“Daryl, I do that stuff because I care about you, and you’re my friend. I’d never make fun of you.” You paused for a moment before hesitantly adding “Unless you deserved it.” He stood up straight and sighed, before tossing the pendant into your lap.

“Find someone else to mock.” He spat, before sulking out of the tower, leaving you alone, arrow charm enclosed in a shaking fist. A few days went by and you didn’t see him much. He always turned away when you tried to make eye contact with him or hurried out of any space that you entered. You felt your heart crack a bit more with every encounter.

After almost a week of this agonizing distance, you began to feel like you were going to throw up whenever you saw him. Your heart felt sore and aching and your soul felt heavy. You would rub your thumb over the pendant in your fist and hold back tears as he rushed away from you while avoiding eye contact. You couldn’t take it anymore, but he wouldn’t even let you face him to tell him that. As a last resort, you wrote a quick and simple note, very your style. It read- “D. You’re my best friend. I mean it. I miss you.” You signed your initial and folded the pendant up in the paper. When you knew he was out, you placed the note on his pillow and hurried away, knowing that whatever was going to happen, it was close to done now. All you could do at this point was wait.

You knew he liked to sleep outside, often staying out of his cell whenever possible, so you had no idea when he might find the note. A few days later you as sat on the ledge of the guard tower, you saw him emerge from the cell block in a rush, his strides hurried and purposeful. You saw him spot you and make a beeline for the tower. As quickly as possible your eyes set on the treeline, as you tried to give the impression that you were just casually on watch, not watching for him. The door flung again in the same startling manner, but he didn’t rush at you this time. You turned to look at him and immediately spotted the arrow pendant hanging from a leather braided cord around his neck, the little piece of paper in his hand. You sat, frozen, unsure of exactly what he was going to say. He closed the distance and held out a hand. You took it and he all too quickly pulled you to your feet, wrapping you in a hug before you could even process what was happening. You sighed against his chest and felt a hand reach up and brush your hair to the side. “I’m sorry.” He whispered into the top of your head, and you smiled. “‘M not any good at this... at havin’ people give a damn. I’m so sorry I didn’ trust it... that I didn’t trust ya... god Y/N I’m so sorry... I shouldn’ta yelled or gone off like that... I’m sorry.” He continued repeating himself a few times before you pulled back and shushed him.

“Dixon I’m gonna need you to stop right there. I forgive you, ok? We’re good. As long as you’ll be my friend again, we’re good.” You buried your face back into his chest immediately after speaking and his arms wrapped around you even tighter.

After a few moments of stunned silence, you felt him move back ever so slightly. “Hey” he began, before you felt an extremely gentle hand on the bottom of your chin, tilting your head upwards so you could meet his eyes. As you made contact you could see the red rims and streaks of tears down his face, and your heart broke all over again. You reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. “Hey.” you spoke with a smirk in your voice, “It’s all ok now. We’re ok. I promise.” He smiled the slightest bit in response and nodded. His hand on your chin moved to your cheek, and you watched his eyes scan your face. “Shoulda said it a million times. Every single time ya did somethin’ nice fer me I shoulda said it. But I’ll say it now. Thank you.” his voice shook as he let it out.

“Hey.” You said with a slight laugh, “You’ve said thank you! You’re just not great at saying it with words, Dixon” He smiled at that, a real, full smile that filled in the cracks of your heart.

“In that case,” he began, a bit sheepishly, “can I say something else?” You simply nodded in response and he didn’t wait before gently bringing his lips to meet yours. It was soft and sweet and nothing like what you’d imagine from Daryl. He held you like the most precious thing in the world and kissed you like he needed to savor you forever, like you were the thing keeping him alive.

And when you pulled away, rosy cheeked and breathless, he simply raised an eyebrow at you and whispered “get it?” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixonxreader #daryl dixon/reader #daryl dixon / reader #fluff #love languages #quality time #acts of service #gifts #miscommunication #daryl just needs a reminder that he's worth loving #some angst #mostly fluff though

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imagineanythings · 3 years

Text

Whiskey Warmth Chapter 1 (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter 1/2

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

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She was all sunshine and light. Daryl had never really met anyone he’d consider an unrelenting optimist until she came along, covered in walker guts with a smile on her face that could make the world stop. They had picked her up on the road, as they drove aimlessly trying to decide what to do after the CDC. Daryl had been the one to spot her. She was walking along the side of the road, covered in remnants of the dead, looking like she hadn’t slept or had a bite to eat in days. But as soon as their little caravan showed signs of slowing, she broke out into a broad, toothy smile and suddenly Daryl was sucking wind like he had been struck in the gut. She stepped up to the window of his truck and stuck her thumb out like a hitchhiker and before falling into a small cascade of laughter at her own gesture.

“Sorry, that was really lame.” She said, still giggling. Her voice and laugh rolled like gravel, it had clearly been a while since she had spoken, but there was a brightness to her lilting tone that had Daryl leaning in to hear more, as if a few more words from her might just set the world right again. “Where’re ya headed?” Daryl finally managed to ask, once he had collected himself. “Anywhere” she said, no hesitation in her voice. She was peering into the cab of the truck, looking around, getting a read on the situation. She seemed satisfied. “I got room,” Daryl offered and there was that smile again. He ducked his head and focused on his hands in his lap. No gaze like that, no smile like that could ever really be meant for him. He squirmed uncomfortably under that kind of focus. She quickly slid into the cab of the truck and placed her pack down at her feet. With a contented sigh she settled in and he chanced a glance at her again but found her eyes still on him. Her smile had dimmed but the corners of her mouth were still distinctly upturned as she watched him eyes still alight. She wasn’t just glancing at him either, the way most people did before they move on to whatever’s really important. She was actually seeing him, observing, like she actually wanted to know more about him. He could practically feel her eyes combing over every inch of him, searching for all the answers he wasn’t willing to give up out loud. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the road as quickly as he could, getting the truck moving again.

“Thank you,” She said quietly. It was genuine and possibly even a little desperate. He didn’t want to think about how long she had been alone out there, what had led to her being out there like that, all alone. “-‘S nothing” He said, shaking his head a bit, still refusing to meet her gaze. He could almost feel the heat of that smile singe the hair off of the back of his neck. “Y/N L/N” She said, and held her hand out to him. His eyes slid over to her quickly as he shook her hand before focusing again on the road. He tried not to notice the way the contact seemed to burn the same way her smile did. “Daryl Dixon.” He responded and he swore he didn’t even have to look, he could just feel that goddamn lazer beam of a smile lighting up the cab again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod to herself a bit, satisfied with the interaction, before leaning back in her seat and pulling the baseball cap she had on down over her eyes. “Thanks again, Dixon,” She said with a soft exhale before settling in comfortably. Before long, he could barely hear gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it.

The group took to her instantly. She was always there with a smile and a solution, a bright side, another option when things looked grim. She was also a bit of a jack of all trades it seemed. She knew her way around a knife, could tell you what every single plant in the forest was and whether you could eat it or not, had a little sewing kit that she used to make small repairs to everyone’s clothes, could start a fire with just about nothing, the list went on and on. While she wouldn’t give up what she did before the end, she did reveal that she was a girl scout as a kid and had picked up a lot from that. She was great with Carl and Sophia and seemed to be the positive energy that was sorely needed to balance out their perpetually moody and brooding group. It wasn’t like the group was entirely falling apart before, but as soon as she showed up it felt like everyone was much closer, like there was just maybe something other than unfortunate shared circumstances keeping everyone together.

Then Sophia went missing, and Carl was shot, and suddenly everything was falling apart again. At least the farm felt like a safe place to exist for the moment while everything else went to shit. And then Daryl had to go and be an idiot and fall on his own damn arrow and that idiot Andrea fucking shot him, and his sorry ass was stuck in bed instead of out there looking for Sophia.

He woke up in a bed in the farmhouse to someone’s gentle touch on his face. She came into focus slowly with the rest of the world, a bit blurry and so soft around the edges. It was all her. All he could feel were her fingertips brushing against his skin, her breath the sole sound in his ear, that soft sort of floral scent that followed her around seemed to swaddle him. When his eyes finally came into focus, there was only her frame hovering over him, changing the bandages on his head wound. As she saw his eyes open her face lit up and he winced.

“Oh god I’m so sorry! I’m just making sure your dressings are clean, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She said quickly, her bright smile replaced with a deep look of concern and Daryl felt something like shame twist up in his stomach. The smooth burn in his throat from her touch and her gaze had already slid downwards and turned into a knot. “Yain’t hurtin’ me woman,” He said, wincing again involuntarily at how harsh the words had come out. He felt her touch lighten despite his words. She sighed and continued to work in silence. The air felt empty without her usual positive chatter, her gentle but firm affirmations, or her kind reassurance. Daryl was never one for conversation but he’d be lying if he said he’d have objected to the sound of her voice at that moment. Instead, when she was done, she simply placed a gentle hand on his arm, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and whispered a quiet “you get some rest now, Dixon” far too close to his ear before flashing him another heart-stopping smile and leaving him to wonder if he had maybe just up and died when Andrea shot him. She had been in and out constantly, bringing him food, changing his bandages, just checking up on him in general. She would sit in the room with him for long chunks of time, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence next to his bed while she patched up peoples’ clothes.

He had just woken up after a hazy, fitful sleep to find her sitting by his bed once again, eyes focused on her sewing. She was humming gently. It was quiet, but he could hear that familiar sweetness in the tune, the brightness that always radiated through a room in her crystal clear laugh, now present in her low and soft humming. If he had focused a bit harder, he was fairly certain he would have been able to make out the song she was humming. It was something he knew from before, but she stopped before he could manage to recall what it was.

“You’re awake!” She said excitedly, “I hope I didn’t wake you, I swear I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” she looked genuinely nervous and apologetic as the words seemed to just spill out of her mouth. Daryl had never been one for speaking up, but the reassurance was slipping from his lips before he had any chance to stop it.

“Naw, weren’t sleepin’ much anyway...” He paused for a moment and was surprised to find that he didn’t want to settle into silence like he usually did. Instead he kept going, “... ‘s nice tho... yer voice” She blushed at that, and if he had thought her smiles packed heat, he was worried he might downright melt from the feeling of making her blush like that.

“It’s nothing,” She spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. She stayed quiet for a moment before shaking her head a bit and focusing back on Daryl. “How are you feeling?” She asked like she genuinely wanted to hear the answer. And not just as a nurse either, not for her medical opinion but because she really cared about how he was feeling. He wanted to pull his head under the covers like a little kid and hide from that kind of attention. But her eyes were wide on him and he couldn’t bear to let her down.

“-’M alright,” He said with a sigh, “wish ya’d just let me outta this bed,” he was being childish and he knew it, but he was too cooped up (and now even more skittish under her gaze) to care. She simply quirked an eyebrow at him and let out a stifled but still achingly melodious giggle.

“You are a handful, you know that Dixon?” She said with a shake of her head. Her sewing had been abandoned on her lap and she reached over to check the dressing on his head. He cleared his throat as she gingerly pulled the bandages off and looked at his wound.

“What were ya singin’?...when I woke up... sounded familiar,” he asked, anything to distract from her caring and gentle touch burning holes in his skin, or her face so close to his as she carefully looked at his wound.

“Oh” she paused for a moment, thinking. She had been in the middle of wrapping his head back up and she had frozen with her hands resting on either side of his face. He didn’t know how he had somehow managed to make this situation even more painful, but he was stuck practically holding his breath, eyes fixed on a little silver pendant swinging back and forth from a chain on her neck so he didn’t have to make eye contact. Finally, after a small infinity, she blessedly began to move again.

“It was Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls,” She said with a fond smile. “One of my favorite songs back in college,” He nodded to himself as the song came back to him, but he didn’t say anything else. She was still so close to his face, like she was trying to see past whatever walls he had built up. Before he could pull away or try to squirm under her gaze she was already leaning back, picking up her sewing again. He didn’t know what she had managed to see, but he was sure it hadn’t been something good.

“Wound looks pretty clean if you ask me. Other one was looking good earlier too, shouldn’t be long now before you’ll be back on your feet.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He grunted something affirmative and appreciative and she couldn’t stifle the laugh that slipped past her lips.

“What’re ya laughing at, woman?” He tried to be at least a bit intimidating, but she just looked at him with that real, genuine smile that he never quite could fathom being directed at him and a fondness in her eyes that was missing mere moments ago.

“I know you don’t like talking much, and that’s ok. I can do plenty of talking for the two of us. One of these days though Dixon, mark my words, I’ll get some full and complete sentences outta you,” Her tone was slightly mischievous, like she was taking on a great ambition, and hell, maybe she was. Especially after that proclamation, Daryl was determined not to make it easy for her. The slight smile he felt himself showing surprised even himself. He gave another purposeful, but this time definitely skeptical grunt and there was that laugh again. He was glad he couldn’t see himself because he was fairly certain that he was beet red from head to toe.

“Well now you’re in for it Dixon, I’ve decided to make it my personal mission. One of these days you’re gonna look around you won’t know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden you’ll realize that I’ve become your best friend.” He was slightly shocked at this proclamation, but tried his best to keep his expression steady and unconcerned.

“Ain’t really worthy of that title,” he said, he couldn’t stop from dropping his eyes down to his hands. “And that is exactly why you need a best friend like me,” She said. He didn’t have to look up to see her smile.

The farm fell. Shit hit the fan, which was something Daryl was well accustomed to even before the world ended. They made it out alive. They survived on the road for months. Everyone wasted away but they made it through. They had cleared out a prison. Things were finally looking up.

Daryl sat in one of the guard towers on watch. He would probably sleep up there too. He couldn’t get used to sleeping in a cell, even if the doors were taken off, made him feel trapped, like a caged animal. He was scanning the tree line when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Y/N poked her head in with a smile and he nodded to her as a hello.

“Hey Dixon, Rick told me you came right up here after your run?” She said cautiously. He nodded accompanied by a vague grunt. “He also told me that you had a nasty looking gash on your arm that you refused to let anyone check on?” She asked and he sighed, holding his arm out for her to see. “Got caught on some glass gettin’ out through a broken window. Was careless and stupid,” He said nonchalantly. She sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact but he could tell by her shaky exhale that she noticed. She gave him a gentle nudge downwards and he got what she was asking. He sat down beside her on the edge of the platform, legs dangling below them. She took his forearm in her hands and examined the gash, which began a little below his elbow and extended an inch or two down his arm. It wasn’t too long, but it ran deep.

“It’s not too bad. You’ll only need a few stitches,” She said, turning away. He was about to grumble something about not bothering the old man when she turned back to him, first aid supplies in hand. “Ya don’t-” He started, but she raised a hand and cut him off. “I got you, Dixon, let me get you fixed up” She sounded stern, yet somehow still gentle and he had to force himself to shut his mouth which had, against his own wishes, just sat there, hanging open at her statement. “This is gonna sting a bit, I’m sorry,” She said, dabbing some antiseptic on the gash. She began stichting and he hissed through his teeth. She seemed to wince at his expression of pain and he immediately felt bad for worrying her. Getting the actual damn gash had hurt far more than this. She was quick and gentle and it was over within a few minutes. She let out a shaky breath when she snipped the thread and he looked down at her hands which definitely had not been shaking that much when she put the sutures in him.

“Ya did good,” he said quietly, wanting to reassure but not quite sure how. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Sorry, I hope they didn’t hurt too bad. Haven’t done them much on real people, I got nervous.” She admitted. He shook his head. “Weren’t nothin’” He reassured and she let out another long breath. “Good.” She said, and he had a feeling that was more for herself than for him.

They sat in silence for a while, legs hanging over the edge of the platform, staring off at the treeline. The quiet felt more safe and comfortable than anything Daryl had experienced in a long time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn to look over at him, so he kept his eyes focused on the treeline, afraid of what awaited in her gaze. She sighed and very slowly leaned down to rest her head on his shoulder. His entire body went stiff for a moment, almost entirely reflexively, before he could manually force himself to relax a bit. He took a deep breath and tried to let some of the tension leave his body, but it was hard when the weight of her head was right there on his shoulder and he could feel her hair brush up against his neck. He thought he was going to go crazy trying to fixate on all of it when she finally spoke.

“Daryl...” She started. She sighed quietly and he could almost hear her brain whirring, searching for what exactly she wanted to say. He could tell by her second, slightly more defeated sigh that she hadn’t quite found it. “Do you think this could really be home?” She finally asked. He let out a sigh of his own, grateful for something to focus on besides the contact but unsure of how to answer.

“Don’t know,” He said after a brief moment of contemplation. “Neither do I,” she said the words so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them correctly. He didn’t really know how to respond. She was usually the one who was so sure. She was always there with a smile and reassurance that this was the moment where everything would go right, that it would all be ok in the end. He didn’t realize that he didn’t really know how to have that kind of hope if she wasn’t the voice in his ear reassuring him.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before she sat up. He looked over at her sudden movement and she had a scrunched up, determined look on her face. Her eyes were dead set on the horizon. “It will be. It will be because you’re here and Rick’s here and we’re going to make it home.” She seemed to be reassuring herself much more than Daryl, but he didn’t mind hearing it. She looked over at him when she was done speaking and flashed him an appreciative smile. When he turned back towards the horizon and away from her gaze she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. As she stood up to head back down she called over her shoulder, “See ya later best friend! Take it easy on those stitches! And get some sleep! I’ll send someone to take over for you in a couple of hours!” She turned and headed down the stairs when she was done and Daryl let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in since she had taken his injured arm so gently in her hands.

She got into a habit of checking in on Daryl whenever he was on watch. She would sit with him and talk to him about whatever was on her mind, or whatever was happening with the rest of the group. He would talk too occasionally. He mostly gave quick responses to whatever she was saying but every now and then she reached in with nimble fingers and pulled something more real out of him, either a story about Merle, or some thoughts on the rest of the group, even a promise to give her a proper lesson in tracking and using a crossbow. She had been fascinated with his bow since the first time she’d seen him shoulder it and was constantly harassing him for lessons. He figured now that they were in the walls not on the run, worrying about staying alive from one moment to the next and they actually had the time and energy it couldn’t hurt to see what she could do. Before he knew it, that little offhand promise had transformed into a routine, they’d work with the bow or go out and track and hunt in the early morning and she’d always come up to see him in the guard tower as the sun began to fall over the horizon. Sometimes she’d bring dinner for him, or her sewing, or just herself. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t mind any of those options.

“Daryl Dixon, I swear to god, you better start being more careful out there,” her words were chiding but there was no harshness in her tone. If that weren’t enough, her exasperated smile definitely gave her away. “Told ya, I always do my best. Shit happens tho” He said, trying to swat her hand away as she tried to move his hair out of the way to get a look at the gash on his forehead.

“Hey!” her laughter filled the air as she grabbed his wrist to keep him from swatting. “You know that I’m not leaving until I make sure you’re all good, so you might as well make it easy on yourself and let me do my thing. Don’t make me get Rick up here to hold you down.” She had put on a scowl, and he could tell she was trying to be menacing, but it was an ill-fitting mask on her. As soon as he held his hands up in surrender it was thrown away in favor of her usual smile. She moved in closer to him, moving up on to her knees to get a better look. As she gently began to clean and inspect the wound he found himself face to face again with that pendant he had noticed at the farm, and while on the run, and if he was being completely honest most days in the prison. He had always wondered what it was, but had never seen it up close since that first time in bed at the farm. It was a symbol made up of two hands holding a heart with a crown on top. The silver pendant seemed as much part of her body as her eyes, or her hands. He never saw her without it.

“Seems like it wasn’t too deep, you don’t need stitches but I do want to put a butterfly bandage on there just to be safe.” She spoke while she looked through the first aid kit, and lapsed back into silence as she found what she needed and went back to work. Before he could really think about what he was doing, Daryl reached out and gingerly took her pendant between his fingers. Her eyes snapped downwards, confusion written across her features.

“Sorry,” Daryl said, letting go quickly, mentally kicking himself for grabbing it in the first place. “-’s just a nice necklace,” he said, eyes dropping to his hands, which lay folded in his lap. She smoothed the bandage once more before sitting back down next to him. “Thank you. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid,” She said, her face a picture of fond heartache. “What’s the symbol for?” Daryl asked quietly. “It’s called a claddagh, it’s Irish. The hands represent friendship, the heart, love, and the crown, loyalty. My dad ran a marathon in Dublin when I was young. I think it was sort of a bucket list thing. He brought back this necklace for me. I used to wear it everywhere as a kid, I mean I really loved it. Then in high school I thought I was too cool and it got shoved in a drawer for a while until I found it again in college. I’ve worn it ever since.” She brushed away a tear that was poised to fall and sighed. “Especially when shit went down, I don’t know where my parents are, if they’re alive at all...” she paused, chest heaving, words thick. He could see her denying tears. “Still feels like they’re with me,” she finished with a soft smile. How she could manage to smile after that, he had no idea.

“Sorry to bring it up,” he sighed. “Didn’t mean to make ya sad,” He dropped his eyes once again. “Stop doing that.” She sounded genuinely annoyed. He looked up, confused. “Doin’ what?” He couldn’t fight the scowl that made its way onto his face. “Gettin’ all down on yourself! Whenever you’re beating yourself up you always look down like that! Like you’re ashamed, and I’m sick of it! Dixon, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!” She was almost yelling now, and he had to fight the urge to lower his gaze again. He settled for scowling at the horizon. He stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and turned his head so he was forced to meet her eyes.

“Daryl, you’re the best of us. I mean it. It kills me that you don’t see it. Please, just...” She trailed off, searching his eyes as he practically held his breath. Maybe if he didn’t breathe, didn’t let anything in or out, she wouldn’t be able to see through him, whatever ridiculous and righteous illusion she had created in her mind would remain untouched, unharmed. “For me Daryl, please, try not to be so hard on yourself.” “I don’t-” he started, trying to look down again but she immediately cut him off. “No. I’m not done.” She held his gaze with a look that said Look away Dixon, I dare you. “I don’t pick just anyone to be my best friend, Dixon. Believe it or not I don’t just go around gettin’ chummy with every redneck who picks me up from the side of the road.” He couldn’t help the surprised, sort of strangled laugh that escaped him. His reaction drew a gentle, warm smile across her lips and even after a year of knowing her he still couldn’t fight the heat that ran beneath his skin whenever she directed that small slice of sunlight towards him.

She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, something she had incorporated into their little routine (not that it made his heart slow or his face flush any less when she did it the first time or the 50th time), and sighed. “I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I just care about you and I hate seeing you doubt yourself like that.” “-‘S ok.” He said, forcing himself to hold her gaze and not lower his head like he wanted so badly to do. She narrowed her eyes a bit as she studied his face, and he could practically hear her mind moving, analyzing him. It scared him, he wasn’t used to feeling so seen. She seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to say any more and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened immediately, and she pulled back slightly before he forced himself to relax. She let out a small laugh that was more awkward than genuine, no humor behind it.

“I feel like I’ve done enough damage for one day,” Voice apologetic as she moved to stand but instinctively Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist. He was careful to keep his grip light, not forcing her to stay but asking. “Ya haven’t. Ya could stay... if ya want” He said, voice barely above a whisper. She broke out into a full grin and lowered herself back down to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt some of the tension in his body melt away. “You really are the best of us.” She said with a small sigh, and he responded with a small grunt that drew a burst of giggles out of her, which slowly dissolved into comfortable silence as the sun began to disappear over the horizon.

For a while this life at the prison almost felt too good to be true. Of course it was. Reality always came crashing down, weighing heavily on his shoulders in the end.

The governor came crashing through the gates with a goddamn tank and everything went to shit again. Except this time he didn’t have her there to reassure him that it would all turn out alright. He had Beth, which was a close second in terms of optimism, but then suddenly he didn’t even have her and everything felt like it was falling apart around him. He was completely alone, his family all likely dead, and he had fallen in with a group that made him feel more like his daddy than he had ever wanted to feel. He stuck it out with those assholes for no reason other than that tiny glimmer of hope that Beth was still out there somewhere. If nothing else, he owed it to that girl to get her out of whatever mess he landed her in in the first place. And then he found Rick, Carl, and Michonne and suddenly his reasons to live had multiplied by three. Terminus was a flash of hope. It didn’t bring him any closer to finding Beth, but Rick pointed out that if anyone from the group survived and found the signs, they would likely be heading there as well.

The train tracks had been easy enough to follow. As the compound came into view, for just a brief moment Daryl allowed himself to hope. But once inside that hope began to very quickly whittle away. It was too quiet, and there was something off about that Gareth guy. And suddenly they were spotting Hershel’s pocket watch, and the riot gear, and Maggie’s poncho and a silver necklace with a claddagh charm and then Daryl felt himself begin to drown. Everything that had kept him going, the small spark of hope that he had allowed to live inside him had been drenched. Now all he felt was steam rising, his insides boiling, but before he could do anything about it the gunfire began and then they were herded towards a boxcar.

Daryl wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but his whole family corralled into one place had definitely not been it. They were all there except Carol and baby Judith, two losses which weighed heavily on the entire group. But everyone else was there and safe and alive. He scanned the room, giving hugs and looking people up and down, making sure everyone looked ok. He moved slowly through the car, through each of his family members, before he came to a stop in front of a figure balled up in the corner. Her face was hidden but her frame was unmistakable.

“Y/N?” he asked, and her name on his lips again felt like coming back to a place you’ve once called home. She slowly picked your head up, and he immediately noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her cheeks looked gaunt and hollow. But when she saw that it was really him, that Daryl Dixon was really standing in front of her, her eyes widened. She leapt to her feet with surprising speed and threw her arms around him. His arms wrapped around her body and when he lifted her off of her feet for a moment he could have sworn that the weight of the world wasn’t all that much to hold. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe it’s really you” Tears began to pool in her eyes and she pulled him back in for another hug, face buried in his shoulder. He could feel her shoulders shake and a patch of wetness grow on his shirt. “Thought you were gone.” She whispered. He shook his head and brought a hand up to stroke her hair. “Naw, ain’t gettin’ rida me that easy now, womanl” He said quietly. After a few more moments she pulled away and just stared at him with those wide, shocked eyes. “Promise I ain’t goin’ anywhere, I’ll still be here if ya blink” She nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “I missed you,” she whispered just as Rick and Carl made their way over to give her a hug. “Missed ya too” he said.

He took a few steps back, and only when he stepped away did he notice the cold emptiness nipping at him, like something was missing. He watched her hug Rick and Carl, he watched the most important people in the world to him all come back together in a single moment, and yet he felt cold. She was crying. She was hugging people. She was telling everyone how much she missed them.

She wasn’t smiling.

#The walking dead #Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixonxreader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #reader/daryl dixon #reader insert #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #writing #walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon has a huge crush

91 notes · View notes

imagineanythings · 3 years

Text

Exhausted (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 4.7k

You’re the type of person who always needs to push yourself to your limits, and Steve doesn’t always approve.

warnings: slight smut, nudity, death mention, hurt/comfort

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You had always been incredibly stubborn. It was a trait that came in handy in your work in espionage; you were hard to crack in interrogation and would do whatever it took to complete your mission. On the other hand, it was usually pretty detrimental to your health and wellbeing. You were more than willing to put your life on the line for the sake of a mission, and you were known for pushing yourself well past your limits in training sessions. You usually didn’t stop until you or your training partner were physically incapable of going on. You knew that the other avengers worried about you, particularly golden boy Steve and your best friend Wanda, but you usually just shook off their concerns. Bucky and Nat were always more than willing to go round after round with you in the ring or spot you as you lifted until your body gave out. They understood your need to push yourself and they were always there to help you do it safely. Having them made it easier to ignore the disapproving looks Steve always shot at you as you came wobbling out of the gym, trying to maintain your balance on exhausted legs. Those looks always gave you a deep pain in your stomach, like you had just been caught doing something wrong. Your gut twisted up into a knot as you ducked your head to avoid the gaze of America’s golden boy. You weren’t sure why, but you hated it so much when he looked at you like that.

Today was a tough day. Your mission a few days ago had gone south, which meant a lot of improvising and more casualties than there should have been. You were taking it particularly hard as you had taken point on the mission. Those deaths were completely your fault, and the guilt was weighing you down. You had barely slept. The night was plagued with visions of it all going wrong, some of true events and some of false, twisted worst case scenarios that your mind had created. After another nightmare and an abrupt wake up at 6 AM, you decided that you had gotten as much sleep as you were going to get that night. You got yourself up and out of bed and quickly found Bucky, who as luck would have it, was already in the gym, no doubt trying to exhaust himself to the point where his thoughts wouldn’t be so loud, which was coincidentally the same thing you were planning on doing. “Hey! Barnes!” You yelled as you entered the gym. He dropped the large weights he was curling and turned to look at you.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up” He pulled you in for a hug once you got close enough, you sighed at the warmth and comfort despite his sweat.

“Oh you know, just trying to outrun the demons,” you joked as you tied your shoes, earning a small smile from him.

“I know how you feel” He said, still smiling, but you could hear the slight sadness in his voice.

“Come on Buck, how does some sparring sound?” You asked, climbing up into the ring. He smiled and wordlessly followed you.

Bucky was one of your favorite people to spar with. He was much bigger than you while still being almost as fast and agile, which forced you to get creative. He also wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty, which you loved. He’d pull your hair or sweep your legs out from underneath you or you’d climb on his back and cover his eyes, one time you even bit him when you found yourself running out of options. You’d never seen him look so shocked and deranged as he did after you sunk your teeth into his forearm, but you knew that both of you loved it. He had retaliated by actually pulling a knife on you, which was a first in your hand to hand training sessions. It wasn’t just physical, it was a mental game, sparring with Bucky, and you found it was one of the absolute best ways to keep your mind off of all of your horrible failures. You knew he felt similarly, you could see the way his shoulders relaxed and lost their tension when he stepped into the ring, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips twitched upwards when you landed a particularly good hit. Sparring with Bucky was therapeutic and exactly what you needed right now. Being a supersoldier, his stamina was much better than yours, and he never went easy on you. He would let you work until you physically couldn’t anymore. Even when your punches began to lag and your form became sloppy, he continued to deliver precise hits, easily taking you down over and over and over again. You would always just shake it off and bounce back up, eager to try again. On one particularly tough takedown though, where he delivered clean hits to your side, stomach, and chest all in rapid succession before grabbing your wrist when you made a weak attempt to hit back and tossing you easily over his shoulder like a ragdoll, you remained down for much longer than usual. He could see that you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Your chest heaved and your eyes had inadvertently filled with tears. You reached up quickly and wiped them away but it was too late, Bucky had already seen them, and he could hear the rasping of your slightly panicked, shallow breaths.

“Alright doll,” He said, offering you his hand, “I think that’s enough for one day,” You begrudgingly accepted and allowed him to pull you up to your feet, where you stood shakily, catching your breath for a moment. He put a gentle hand on your back as you hunched over, still trying to get the air to return to your lungs, and you both just stood there for a few moments before he spoke again. “You sure you’re ok, doll? I’m sorry if I went too hard there, I should have slowed down, I’m so so sorry” you could feel him panicking so you forced yourself to straighten up and you put a gentle hand on his flesh arm.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot worse if you really wanna take me out of commission, Barnes” you flashed him a smile and he let out a shaky breath and a nod. You managed to hold back a grimace until he had turned away for a moment.

“Good to know,” He said after the few moments you both took to collect yourselves, helping you out of the ring and handing you a water bottle, which you gratefully took. After a few more moments of recollecting yourself and getting your breath back you gave Bucky a quick hug and decided to head back to your room for a shower. “Thanks Buck, I really needed that,” you called over your shoulder on the way out.

“Anytime Doll! You know where to find me!” He called after you, bringing a small smile across your lips.

You moved shakily through the halls of the compound, adrenaline now totally worn off, the weakness and soreness of your muscles achingly loud. You had to brace yourself against the walls of the elevator in order to stay upright. Your head was swimming and you knew, once again, you had pushed it too far. Stepping out into the hall was even worse, you were dizzy and stars flitted across your vision. As you walked down the hall towards your room, you spotted Steve exiting his own room, which was directly across the hall from yours. You suppressed a groan as you knew within seconds that trademark disapproving golden boy stare would be upon you. He looked up after locking his door and saw you immediately, but instead of seeing that disappointed glare that you were expecting to adorn his face, his features softened. You must have really looked like shit.

“Y/N” He said softly, rushing to your side and allowing you to steady yourself against him.

“’m alright” you grumbled, trying to shove him off, but he just wrapped an arm around your waist to help keep you upright.

“You look like you’re about to pass out. Y/N have you eaten today?” Steve asked. Truthfully, you hadn’t eaten that day. You had made it a rule not to eat before training in the mornings if at all possible. A few heavy cardio sessions followed by a well placed hit to the stomach forcing your breakfast back up your throat had convinced you to hold off of food until after training. You shook your head and Steve let out a frustrated sigh. There it was. The disappointment that you knew would show up eventually. Your stomach felt like it was continually tying itself up in knots and you weren’t sure if it was from the exhaustion or Steve’s palpable frustration with you.

“Come on, let’s get you in your room” He said, voice gentle and absent, the frustration you had heard so clearly moments ago barely detectable. He slowly helped you into your room, where you crumpled down onto the edge of your bed with a sigh. He disappeared out of your room and you were relieved to be left alone for a moment before he returned, a bottle of gatorade, a bottle of water, and a bag of trailmix in hand. He handed you the gatorade first. “Come on, you need to replenish your electrolytes.” You sighed and begrudgingly sat up to drink a few sips of the gatorade before lying back down.

“I can take care of myself you know,” you said, your tone more harsh than you had expected it to sound.

“I know,” his voice sounded somehow both fond and a bit sad, “but it seemed like you might need some help right now,” You shook your head and sighed, fighting back tears that you hadn’t even known were coming. Your vision was still swimming with those stupid tiny white stars and the exhaustion had caught up to your body and you felt horrible because you cost some brave people their lives and you were so embarrassed because you were breaking down in front of none other than Steve Rogers, who always looks at you like a child who deserves a timeout with those goddamn piercing blue eyes and you just know he can’t stand you and it’s all just too much. The tears came in droves and you couldn’t stop them. You threw your arms across your face to hide it but you knew Steve wasn’t that oblivious. You just wanted to crawl away and cry and hide from everyone but before you could even try to move you felt two large hands pulling your arms away from your face and wiping at your tears.

“Hey,” he said quietly, searching your eyes for answers. His bright blue stare made you want to hide even more, but you forced yourself to shakily hold his gaze, tears still coming. “You can talk to me you know, what’s going on?” He asked, reaching out to wipe your tears again. You sighed and slowly sat up. You had to fight the urge to rest your head on his shoulder and let him hold you while you sobbed. Instead you just let him put a gentle hand on your shoulder. You searched for the words but when you came up empty you just shook your head.

“Sorry,” was all you could manage, which to your surprise pulled a small chuckle from Steve.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be apologizing for right now, doll.” Steve said and you sighed, once again searching for the words.

“I’m just...” you trailed off, looking at the ceiling as if it could give you the answers. Steve waited patiently while you organized your thoughts. “I’m just sorry that I’m always letting you down. I know you don’t agree with my choices most of the time and I know you think I’m some irresponsible child, and hell maybe I am, I mean just yesterday I literally....” you couldn’t say that out loud, not yet, you weren’t ready to work through all of it. You swallowed and continued “I’m always going to do what I have to do to keep going, and I shouldn’t care if you don’t like me for it because I’m going to do what I want regardless of what people think but at the same time it feels like a knife in my gut whenever you look at me like you can’t believe someone like me ended up on a team like this.” You were rambling but you stopped yourself before it could go any further. “I’m just going to try and shower.” You stood up on unstable legs and Steve could see your entire body shaking from exhaustion and panic. He stood quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug. He could really feel you shaking now, pressed up so close against his body, like you were going to shatter at any moment. When you found your face pressed up against his shirt, breathing in his cologne and scent you lost it. You broke down and just let all the tears that you’d been holding in escape. If it weren’t for his arms wrapped tightly around you, you were sure your legs would have given out beneath you. You both stood like that for a few minutes, you sobbing into his chest as he stroked your hair and back and tried to make you feel safe. The shaking of your body went straight through his very being. Once your crying had slowed and he could feel your heart rate decreasing he tilted your chin upwards so he could look at you. Your eyes met his and he felt like you had his chest in a vice-grip, all tightness and pressure. His chest was completely and painfully empty, all that remained was an aggressive aching brought on by your red puffy eyes. He hated that he had a hand in making you feel like that.

“Hey,” he said quietly, fingers still gently resting on your chin. “I’ve never thought that of you.” He spoke slowly, voice barely above a whisper, his words deliberate and true. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should share more. “I...” he began, slowly gaining the confidence to say what he felt, “I only seem like I disapprove because I care about you... so much” Your breath caught in your throat. “It kills me to see you so beaten down and exhausted and all I want to do is help you but I never know how, I’m so sorry you thought anything else.” You examined his eyes to see he now seemed to be holding back tears as well. You placed a soft hand on his cheek and reached up on your toes to give him a small kiss on the side of his face next to your fingers. He blushed a bit, and spoke again, “you can always come to me, you know that right? I won’t work you as hard as Natasha, or put up nearly as much of a fight as Buck, but I’ll always be here when you need this,” he seemed sheepish at the admission. You just smiled.

“I can’t believe I thought you hated me this whole time,” he just shook his head in complete disbelief. That would be like hating the sun for burning so bright, it was ridiculous.

“I could never ever hate you y/n” His hand moved up to wipe at your tears once more. “Now will you please let me take care of you?” He asked, almost desperately. You rolled your eyes and simply nodded, even in your fragile state still not one to be “taken care of”, but who were you to argue with the Captain?

He sat you back down on your bed and told you to stay put and drink your gatorade. You did as you were told while he disappeared into the bathroom to turn on your shower. He came back into the room and forced you to eat some of the trail mix he had brought for you and then insisted on walking you to the bathroom, “You’re still shaking, I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself” he had said before wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You could have protested more but for some reason the words echoed into silence before they passed your lips.

Once in the bathroom you couldn’t help but give him shit “You gonna hold me up in the shower too?” You said with a smirk, leaning against your sink. He laughed but you could see his cheeks going pink.

“No- I um, well I can just,” he motioned towards the door, “not that I wouldn’t want to- I mean” he was getting more and more flustered by the second, you’d never seen the captain look so nervous and well... cute.

“If it wouldn’t be too weird, I could use the help” you conceded, and if you thought his face was red before, you had not been prepared for the crimson color that now covered his entire face and you were pretty sure his body too. “We can keep our underwear on if you want, it can be just...a friend thing, one friend helping another physically incapacitated friend” you said, and his breathing slowed a bit. He looked a bit sheepish and reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously, his voice barely audible when he finally spoke.

“And what if I didn’t want it to be just a friend thing?” He held eye contact with you, searching for some kind of response in the silence before you spoke. You were so stunned you couldn’t suppress a slight giggle, to which he immediately tensed up before you finally got some words out.

“Geez Rogers, at least take me to dinner first before you try to get me naked,” He looked absolutely mortified and began stammering and trying to get out some sort of apology.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I really didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to- well I mean I do, but not like this, and I absolutely would love to take you to dinner, I mean if that’s something you’re interested in, but I really just wanted to help and I screwed it up didn’t I?” He seemed like he could go on forever so you silenced him with a quick peck on the lips. It was chaste and fast, with not nearly as much feeling and closeness in it as either of you would have liked, but it served its purpose. He stood in stunned silence as you slowly took off your athletic shirt.

“Come on Rogers, dinner can wait, right now I need some help,” without waiting for an answer you steadied yourself on his arm with one hand as you tried to get out of your shorts without falling over. He was still looking at you like you had grown a second head, which made you back off a bit. You kept a hand on his arm for support but allowed for a bit more space between the two of you.

“Hey if you aren’t comfortable with this we don’t have to do it, I can just sit down in the shower or call Wanda or something it really isn’t a big deal.” He swallowed and shook his head, trying to snap himself out of whatever trance he had put himself in.

“No...no I just wasn’t expecting...” he paused, searching for the word, “that” He moved back in closer to you, he was close enough that his exhales ghosted your face. “As long as you’re sure you want this,” The words were tender but his face was set and serious. You nodded quickly in response.

“Oh Steve,” you took in his face, eyes tracing his features before finding his blue ones again, “This is all I want,” With a sudden moment of bravery, you weakly pulled yourself up and gently pressed your lips to his. He froze for a moment before reciprocating as if you were air and he desperately needed to catch his breath. He tasted surprisingly sweet, and the little groan he made when you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair tasted even sweeter. His hands began to roam but your body was still trembling and he had a sudden shock back to reality, in true captain-like focus, he was reminded of his mission. He pulled away slowly, your trembling increasing with the absence of his lips on yours. “Come on doll, let’s not forget why we’re here,” he said, barely above a whisper. He wanted you. He couldn’t deny that, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of first. If he was going to do this, as he had wanted to for so long, he was going to do it right. He slowly helped pull your sports bra off and then knelt down to remove your panties. He couldn’t help but leave small kisses on your stomach and thighs as he slid the fabric down your legs.

You shuddered and pawed at his shoulders. He understood almost immediately and pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. You tried to remove his belt but he quickly replaced your shaky fingers with his own, larger, more steady ones. He made quick work of his belt and pants and suddenly it was just the two of you standing there, painfully aware of how naked and exposed you were. As he looked at you he felt entirely breathless. You were more gorgeous than he had imagined, your skin so smooth and soft, your curves perfect, he wanted nothing more than to have you right there, but he held himself back. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, his girl needed his help, and he wasn’t going to let her down.

Steve reached a hand into the shower and felt the water to make sure it was hot enough. He gave a little satisfactory nod to himself before helping you into the shower and maneuvering you beneath the water. He made sure to keep at least one steady hand on you as you let the water wash over you. He could have stood there for hours, just watching your face relax and your head roll back as the water soothed your aching body. With your eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face you looked so peaceful, Steve almost didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but he could see you swaying a bit, still off balance and shaky from exhaustion. He quickly grabbed the shampoo and moved behind you, his muscular chest pressed up close against your back. Slowly he began to work the shampoo into your hair, your head rolled back even more and he could feel your muscles relax against his body. His fingers massaging your scalp and running through your hair drew a moan from you that was definitely not situationally appropriate, but you were too worn out at this point to care or even notice. Steve tried his hardest not to fixate on it, not to think about those sounds spilling from your lips. Now was not the time.

He shook himself out of it and rinsed the shampoo out before moving on to conditioner. Just like with the shampoo, he slowly and deliberately worked the conditioner through your hair, making sure to massage your scalp and coat your hair evenly. Once again he tried not to focus on the blissed out expression on your face, tried not to imagine any other context in which your head would fall back like that, lips slightly parted, sighs of pleasure sitting so beautifully upon them. After rinsing that out, he moved on to body wash. He took this time to savor every part of you, especially the ones he had never seen before. He ran his hands over your impossibly soft skin, and acquainted himself with every inch of it. He placed kisses on your shoulders before running his soapy hands over them, he paused with his hands on your waist, admiring how well they fit there, like they were exactly where they belonged. Your mind may have been too foggy with exhaustion to realize it at the time, but god dammit, Steve Rogers was worshipping every single piece of your body. You sighed as he ran his hands all the way up your stomach and your chest before placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

With your eyes closed and your weight resting on Steve’s chest behind you, you felt more at ease than you had in months. He planted another kiss on your neck, sucking gently and you let out a little moan followed by a breathy “Oh Steve.” That drew a groaning sound from somewhere deep in his throat and turned you around so he could kiss you again. He kept one stabilizing arm around your waist, keeping your body pressed up against his, while his other hand cradled your cheek like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and in that moment he was almost certain that you were. The kiss was passionate and full of desire but still gentle and tender. Like you were the most beautiful, fragile thing in existence and Steve just needed to hold you close but he was afraid you could shatter at any second beneath his touch.

Without breaking the kiss, he reached back and turned off the water, feeling almost guilty when you began to shiver in his arms. He quickly reached out of the shower and grabbed a towel, which he used to gently dry you off before wrapping it around your body tightly. He grabbed another towel and wrapped that around his waist. Then, without warning, he scooped you up in his arms bridal style, which caused you to squeal in surprise. You clung to him tightly, with your arms around his neck, despite the fact that you knew Steve would never let you fall. He brought you into your room and laid you down gingerly on the bed. You whimpered at the loss of contact and he smiled.

“Just a second doll, I’ll be right back.” He came back into the room with both of your clothes. He put your sweaty workout gear in your hamper and put his boxers on after laying the rest of his clothes on your bed. “I can grab you something from your closet if you’d like, you’d have to tell me where to look but I’m sure I can-” he turned to see you already pulling his shirt on over your head. Once you had it on you laid back down and just breathed in his scent. He watched the way you curled up in his shirt, content smile on your lips as you surrounded yourself with him and he felt his lungs empty completely. He never thought he would see something like this in person, he had resigned it to nothing more than fantasy, and yet here you were. He slid into bed slowly, as if rushing would break the spell and destroy this beautiful illusion all around him. But as he laid down next to you, nothing fell apart. Instead, you simply curled up against his body, laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his. You let out a tiny contented sigh as Steve wrapped one arm around your back and waist to keep you close, and used the other to gently play with your hair. It took mere seconds for your breathing to even out and Steve could tell you were asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and smiled as you snuggled in even closer to him, leaning into his touch. With his arms around you and the sweet smell of your shampoo and your body wash overtaking him, Steve could feel his own eyelids getting heavy. As he began to drift off to sleep he couldn’t help but think to himself, yeah I could get used to this.

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