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lilypadeater · 2 months

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Pancakes

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary- You're Judith's babysitter in Alexandria and your kind gesture backfires.

Content information: 18+, angsty Rick, age gap (20s and 40s), awkward as FUCK, there would be smut if I continued

"Rick, I found the perfect candidate to take care of Judith while you're working." Deanna announced with her signature friendly smile.

Currently sitting in her make-shift office, Rick raised his brow because she had told him there were 'important matters' to discuss. "This' what you wanted to tell me? I already told'ya, m'not comfortable with anyone besides the people in my group takin' care of her. Carl and Carol are takin' turns."

Deanna sighed and reasoned, "I understand, I completely do. I would be hesitant to allow strangers to take care of my child, but we aren't strangers here. We are a community of good people. Carl's still a kid and he shouldn't have be a primary care taker for his little sister. Carol is a valuable asset to this community and I need her to do other jobs. This leaves only one option, and that's to find a babysitter for Judith."

"No, absolutely not. There ain't a single person here I would trust with that," Rick interrupted.

Deanna ignored his protest and continued, "You trust me though, don't you? Thats why when I thought about it, I decided that my daughter could take care of yours."

Rick eye brows furrowed in surprise at her suggestion. "Your daughter?" He repeated in confusion.

"Yes, she's my oldest. She doesn't have kids, but she's taken care of plenty of babies," Deanna explains.

Rick pondered it for a moment. He realized Deanna had a point about Carl and Carol, but having a stranger taking care of Judith made his stomach turn. However, it was better to have Deanna's own daughter taking care of Judith than some random civilian in Alexandria. He had only caught a glimpse of you during the welcome party, before you disappeared into a group of people. "Don't you have some more important job for your own daughter?" He inquired.

Deanna chuckled at his suspicion. "She used to go on runs, but I don't want her out there anymore. She'll make a great babysitter for you, until I find another job for her that doesn't involve going outside of the walls."

"I'll think about it" was all he said before getting up and heading towards the door. 'These next few weeks are gonna be long.' He mentally groaned.

The next day, Rick was met with a knock on the door while getting ready. He quickly slid on a plain white shirt and some black jeans before opening the door.

You greeted him in a friendly voice, "Hi, I'm Y/N Monroe, Deanna's daughter. I'm here to look after Judith."

Rick's eyes scanned over you, momentarily forgetting what you just said as he analyzed you. His eyes traced every detail on your face and clothing. He finally spoke, "Rick Grimes. Y'can come in." He moved from the door way and let you inside the house. You could feel his watchful eyes drilling a hole in the back of your head as you stepped inside. The silence was deafening.

You turned to Rick and asked curiously, "Where is she?"

"She's asleep right now. I'll show you 'round for now," he answered and began walking toward the kitchen. Rick opened some cabinets and explained where Judith's food and toys were. "Feel free to help yourself to anything, just make sure Judith is well taken care of," he added.

"Thank you, and don't worry, she's in good hands." You assured and patted his back. He stared down at you, trying to figure you out, before Judith's cries snapped him out of his thoughts.

You both made your way to Judith's crib and he scooped her up. He goes on to say, "She's fussy in the mornings 'cause she's hungry. She usually only cries if she's hungry, needs to be changed, or if she tired."

You can't help but giggle at his serious explanations for the obvious. "I know how a baby works, Rick. This isn't the first one I've ever taken care of," You playfully retort and reach out to hold Judith.

He feels some embarrassment from his explanation and hands her over to you cautiously. "Jus' making sure," He admits. Judith curiously studies you as you rock her in your arms. Your attention and drawn back to Rick when he states, "I better get ready for work. I'll let Carl and Carol know you'll be taking over, for today." He muttered the last part as he exited the room.

After Judith calmed down, you brought her to the kitchen and sat her down in her high chair. You brought a spoonful of applesauce to her mouth, which she happily scarfed down. Rick's suspicions of you were justified since he didn't know you, but it slightly irritated you. While feeding Judith and hearing her coos, an idea hit you. 'Maybe I could win him over with food.'

You cleaned Judith up quickly started breakfast for Rick and Carl. Putting on an apron you found laying around and tying your hair back, you got to work. Making do with what was in the pantry, you were able to make blueberry oat pancakes with honey syrup. The blueberry aroma filled the house. Just as you had finished up, Carl came out of his room.

He rushed down the stairs to see what the delicious smell was from, and possibly taste it. When he finally reached the kitchen, he awkwardly introduced himself and picked Judith up from her high chair, "Oh, uh, hello. I'm Carl." His father had told him about a babysitter for Judith, but he was still surprised to see that you were the reason for the yummy smell.

"Good mornin'. I'm Y/N, I'll be babysitting Judith. Would you like some blueberry oat pancakes?" You replied with a kind smile and he quickly nodded his head. He sat down at the table and you placed a plate of food down in front of him. Without any hesitation, he dug into the pancakes. You gave Judith some nibbles of pancake as well since she watched Carl with interest.

Rick walked down the stairs, fully dressed in his constable uniform. It consisted of black jeans, a blue button up, a tie, and a jacket. He looked just as scrumptious as the pancakes. Carl briefly looked away from the food to greet him, but immediately went back to it afterwards. You on the other hand, had a hard time taking your eyes off him.

"What did'ya make?" He asked curiously and walked towards you. The pleasant aroma of blueberries and honey had caught his attention, just as you planned.

"Blueberry oat pancakes with honey syrup. Would you like some?" You softly replied, getting shy at his close proximity. He was taking in the sight of you in the apron with your hair pulled back, you were stunning. His paranoid opinion of you from had clouded his brain, stopping him from noticing this earlier. But of course, he would never make any advances to you. You were much younger than him, and you were just doing your job. Right?

"I'd love some," He answered and watched as you prepared him a plate of the blueberry oat pancakes. You handed him the plate, accidentally brushing your soft and gentle hand over his rough and calloused ones. The touch sent a rush of heat through your body and his. He did a quick head nod to show his appreciation for the food walked towards the table.

Rick closely inspected the food when you turned your focus to the dishes. He cut a piece of pancake and observed it as if it were some kind of laboratory creation. Carl noticed his fathers behavior and insisted, “C’mon dad, it’s not like she poisoned it or something.”

Rick shot his son a look before hesitantly putting the forkful of pancake into his mouth. His eyebrows raised in surprise when he tasted the flavorful masterpiece. You turned away from the dishes to see his reaction to your cooking. “I hope you guys liked it, I know this little one did,” you asked as you moved towards the table and picked Judith up.

Rick straightened up a bit, savoring the taste in his mouth. "They're real good. Lori used to make 'em every sunday and they were awful, but god, I miss her..." He trailed off, realizing he had just brought up a piece of his past with a stranger. The atmosphere in the room shifted into a tense and awkward fog. Carl's eyes darted from his empty plate to Rick.

You weren't really sure what to say to the random burst of grief, so you simply responded with, "I'm sorry, if you ever need to talk about it, I'm here." Before Rick could reply, Carl quickly thanked you for the food and rushed out of the house. He didn't even bother taking his plate to the sink.

Rick muttered a "thank you" and stood up from his chair without finishing his food. You watched in disappointment as he walked out, the sound of the front door slamming echoing in the silent room. As if on queue, Judith began to cry.

🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐

Ik u probably hate me for that ending, but that’s what you guys get for not making requests 😊

#rick grimes #the walking dead #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 8 months

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Request daryl dixon x plus!size reader) so the reader and are married they have been together since before the world went to hell maybe when they make it to Alexandra some guys hit on the reader or make comments about her weight ( I couldn't decide which one to choose so you can pick) and early just gets really pissed off and he fights the guys Maggie is worried that one of the guys is not breathing but rick tells everyone he is still breathing and that rick almost beat him to death Daryl didn't care because they shouldn't say stuff to his wife or about his wife.

.⋆｡The Dress｡⋆.

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Spencer and his lackeys decide that they want to be pieces of shit and your husband teaches them a lesson they’ll never forget

Warnings: fat shaming, Spencer Monroe, some angst, fighting, protective!Daryl, swearing, blood, cat-calling, implied smut

WC: 1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Maggie was the one that found the sundress. It was wrinkled and smelled like dust balls but the blue of the fabric hadn’t faded and it fit you like a dream. You were hesitant at first, dresses had always been a bit of a sore spot for you in the past but you couldn’t deny just how good you looked when you finally caved and slipped it on (just to appease your best friend of course).

While tight around your bust, providing you ample support even without a bra, it flared out at your wide hips, giving you a more hourglass figure. The colour suited your skin tone perfectly and the fabric was light enough that you didn’t feel constricted. Even you found yourself hot as you looked in the bathroom mirror.

Maggie had just about lost her mind when you finally re-emerged into your bedroom and after she had convinced you to walk downstairs, you found that your husband was even more excited about it.

So on a particularly hot day in Alexandra, you decided to wear it as you went about doing your chores. You ignored the eyes that looked your way as you milled about, delivering parcels of food to different houses and collecting any clothes that needed to be fixed.

It was the whistle that finally caught your attention. A group of men were gathered outside of Deanna’s old house, Spencer led the charge. He was positively leering at you in what you assumed was supposed to be a ‘smoulder’ but really just came across like he was constipated.

You rolled your eyes and attempted to get on with your work but that’s when he spoke up. “Hey sweetheart how about you bring that ass over here and I can show you what a real man can do.” You cringed at his nasal voice. The three men behind him hooted as he smirked your way.

All-to-used to the cat calls of pathetic men, you kept walking, yet you couldn’t help but mutter under your breath. “I get a real man every morning with breakfast, fucking pig.” Evidently, you hadn’t said it quietly enough because suddenly there was an iron grip around your wrist and an angry voice in your ear.

“The fuck did you just say, fat bitch. I was gonna do you a favour by fucking you but now I wanna know something. How are you still so fat in the middle of the fucking apocalypse?” This started another round of side splitting laughter from his friends. Your hand flew to your wide hip, unconsciously searching for your knife which you had left on the hall table at home. “I know! That redneck that follows you around like a mangy dog must keep feeding you so you can be bait.”

Your mouth dropped open to retort but suddenly, there was a growl and the disgusting hand on your skin disappeared. You were startled for only a moment before you realised that your husband’s voice had replaced Spencer’s. “Shut yer fuckin mouth!”

A sickening crack rang through the now silent street and you watched with morbid fascination as the man you called yours beat the ever loving shit out of the much taller man. Daryl’s blue eyes were wide with fury as he held him down by his neck as his right fist landed blow after blow to his face.

You stood frozen as his hand steadily became stained with red blood, only a distant shout from Rick broke you from your trance. “Daryl!” You pulled at his shoulder but he wouldn’t budge, too blinded by his anger. He landed another hit and you cringed as you heard Spencer’s nose shatter.

“Rick!” The sheriff was your last option and he delivered. He gave your husband one good punch to the jaw and Daryl was briefly stunned. Using that distraction, you pulled him back with all your might causing you both to roll to the dusty ground.

You threw your leg over his thin hips and grabbed his arms, pinning them to his chest as you sat down onto his thighs, effectively keeping him on the ground. You knew he could easily throw you off and lunge at the man once more but he stayed immobile beneath you, his chest heaving.

“You good?” You could hear others running up to where Spencer lay but your focus was on the man beneath you. His shoulders were still tense and his fists still clenched but his eyes weren’t as wild as they fixed themselves on you.

He grunted in reply and you breathed out in relief. “Are you gonna go after him again if I let you up?” He thought for a moment and then shook his head. You smiled before carefully getting to your feet. You offered him a hand which he quickly took, pulling himself up to stand next to you.

“I don’t think he’s breathing!” One of Spencer’s cronies whined but Rick just scoffed as he looked down at Spencer.

“He’ll be fine, just get him to the infirmary.” He dismissed, turning to you and Daryl who had slipped his hand into yours. “You almost beat that man to death.”

Daryl spun the gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Shouldn’t have talked bout my wife like that.” He brushed off. You could feel the split skin of his knuckles beneath your fingertips- a reminder of the violence he was capable of for you.

Rick sighed in defeat and turned his attention to you. “Bring him home, I’ll deal with this. Just- just watch him please.” He begged, sounding like a tired father. Your free hand clutched Daryl’s muscular forearm in a silent signal for him to walk away.

“He’ll be right as rain tomorrow. Scout’s honour.” You promised and the ex-sheriff shot you a grateful look.

“By the way- you do look good in that dress.” A growl was your only warning before you found yourself thrown over your husband’s broad shoulder and he stormed away, presumably back to your house. Your laugh carried down the street with you as you clutched onto his strong back.

“I guess I shouldn’t wear this dress out again huh?” You asked jokingly as he kicked open your front door and thundered up the stairs.

He gently threw you onto your bed and as he stripped off his vest, he spoke once more. “Only if ya know ‘m gonna fight anyone tha looks at ya.” The dress stayed on.

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sarcasmchandlerbing · 1 year

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The Walking Dead characters collages pt. 3

(In order: Martin, Nicholas, Dawn Lerner, Amanda, Steven Edwards, Joan, Noah, (Father) Gabriel Stokes, Aaron, Ron, Sam & Jessie Anderson, Aiden, Deanna & Spencer Monroe, Tobin, Eric, Reg Monroe, Olivia, Enid, Owen, Scott, Denise Cloyd, Heath, Annie, Francine, Carter, Harlan Carson, Gregory, Paul Rovia/Jesus)

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dixons-sunshine · 13 days

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hiii, i just discovered your blog recently and i adore it, your writtings are very amazing😭, i was just wondering if you could possible write about daryl with a brazilian reader? like she has a big curly hair and is very optimistic and happy most of the time? i am from brazil and i never really found any writtings about my country, but i would apreciate if you write something about it🙌🏽, sorry for my bad english

Feel The Rhythm In Your Soul | Daryl Dixon x Fem! Brazilian!Reader

Summary: Of all the things you thought would happen at Deanna Monroe's party, being asked to dance by your quiet, shy partner wasn't what you expected. And you certainly didn't expect to have to teach him how to dance.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 830.

A/n: Finally finished this request. Sorry for the long wait :'). This was really fun to write, though! Also, I'm sorry if any Portuguese translations are incorrect. I used Google translate for this. If anything is wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it! (Translations will be at the bottom.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, calma. You won't be able to move right if you're so tense.”

Daryl huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, giving you a frustrated look. “M'not tense. Dancin' s'jus' fuckin' impossible.”

You shook your head and gave him a huge smile. You stepped behind him and readjusted his body, before stepping in front of him again. “It's not impossible. You just got to become one with the music. Feel the rhythm in your soul, and let your body do the rest. Don't overthink it too much.”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Alrigh'. Show me again,” he nodded, his lips twitching up at the small squeal of delight you emitted.

Sometimes he wondered how someone as pessimistic and brooding like him got lucky enough to get with someone as energetic and full of life as you. Despite everything you've endured in this cruel, unforgiving world, you remained optimistic, hopeful, full of life.

You remained his happy girl.

“Incrível,” you replied happily. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

“Alrigh',” Daryl responded. He tried his best to follow your slow movements, trying to get it perfect for you just to hear that beautiful laugh of yours again.

When he had asked you to teach him how to do one of your traditional dances, you had excitedly pulled him aside to teach him something called a Samba, even if the music wasn't exactly the best to do it to. From what you had told him, you were only teaching him the basics. Basic footwork and basic handwork.

Basic my ass, he thought to himself as he struggled to follow your lead. He had never danced before and was beginning to realise that he had two left feet when it came to this activity. However, despite having been trying to teach him for half an hour, you refused to write him up as a lost cause. You'd simply smile brightly, beautiful eyes sparkling up at him while you reassured him that he would get it right soon. You were endearing to him like that.

Surprisingly, Daryl had managed to follow your instructions without any hiccups this time around. He had actually done pretty well, considering his inability to dance. He was kind of proud of himself. And so were you.

“Bom trabalho, garoto lindo! Você está conseguindo!” you exclaimed happily, throwing yourself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

Ignoring the looks the other shallow minded Alexandrians were sending his way, he smiled softly and embraced you gently. He wasn't one for public displays of affection, preferring to keep that part of your lives private. However, when you were this excited and sent him that absolutely radiant smile of yours, he couldn't be bothered. You were his perfect girl.

“Peach, ya know I love it when ya speak Portuguese, but yer strictly English speaking partner needs a translation,” he whispered into your long, curly hair, smiling at the giggle you let out.

“Sorry. I was just saying that you were doing it. You completed one basic Samba routine,” you explained, pulling back from the hug to look at him. “I'm so proud of you. You'll be doing full Samba routines with me in no time.”

Daryl gave you a small smile. “M'lookin' forward to it,” he responded, suddenly looking quite nervous. “But m'done fer tonigh'. Vamos para casa, linda.”

You gasped in surprise, before smiling widely. “Daryl, did you just—”

“Speak Portuguese?” he finished for you, nodding hesitantly. “Yeah. I found a book and have been tryna learn fer ya. Y'know, so ya can speak yer language more often and have someone understand ya.”

Happy tears started to well up in your eyes. You stepped forward and softly embraced him, resting your head against his chest.

“Muito obrigada. I love you so much,” you whispered against his chest.

A beat of silence passed. Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, feeling his heart begin to flutter uncontrollably. He closed his eyes and focused really hard, recalling one of the first things he taught himself to say in your language.

“Eu também te amo.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Translations (BASED ON GOOGLE TRANSLATE! I DON'T SPEAK PORTUGUESE SO THIS IS MOST LIKELY INCORRECT. Please feel free to comment the correct translations for me and I will fix it!)

Calma: Calm down.

Incrível: Incredible.

Bom trabalho, garoto lindo! Você está conseguindo!: Good job, pretty boy! You're doing it!

Vamos para casa, linda: Let's go home, beautiful.

Muito obrigada: Thank you so much.

Eu também te amo: I love you too.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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minervas-wife · 7 months

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TWD S5 E16 LIVE THOUGHTS

'well u can lower that 😒🙄' u can hear him wanting to roll his eyes

'that's a lot :0'

the interrupting himself to say 'put that down' makes me laugh everytime

his stick martial arts always make me think of that capoiera episode of bobs burgers

eyyy back to aaron and daryl

nvm now back to rick

the laughing when he sees his in a 'cell' hes literally deranged 😭😭

'its like the train car' and he was LAUGHING about it 😭😭

'bc these people are children and children like stories' goes hard. go carol

dude what the hell. mans already planning a gd hostage situation

christ alive rick

i feel like ive typed that so many times for these few episodes

'he pointed out at people' dude i wish u could see what was happeningoutside the walls

sasha in the walker grave 😭😭 baby get out there

she is so condescending in this scene 😭😭 'oh sunshine...'

steven and lauren built such an unrivaled chemistry for maggie and glenn. they are the blueprint twd relationship

THE CHAIN OMG

im forever obessessed with this scene of carol threatening pete

can't wait for pete to die

nicholas u stupid coward

'cus all life is precious daryl' 🥺🥺

i love u rosita u are too funny

crisis of faith gabriel 🙄🙄

oh my god i forgot the walkers were the wolves

gabe the snake 😡😡

jessie is sitting there with a black eye and deanna is like yeah but we need to punish him for beating up ur abusive husband

bc he is useful to the asz,,, he's the only one with medical training but why did she never make him train up anyone else?? i mean what was gonna happen if he ever got hurt or anything

carl and judith looking at the music box he picked up for maggie 😭😭😭

ohhhh the wolves have pictures

girl got me cheering at 'do it'

#the walking dead #twd #mars real time review #morgan jones #sasha williams #deanna monroe #rick grimes #carol peletier #rosita espinosa #gabriel stokes #jessie anderson

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Reassurance

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—thigh riding, rough sex, missionary, swearing ❧ Word Count: 5k

❧ Requested by anonymous (this request)

❧ Summary: You are reunited with family friends, the Monroes, and Spencer has always had an unrequited infatuation with you. When he confronts you about your relationship with Daryl, it leads to some self-doubt for the archer. Can he redeem himself?

❧ A/N: I saw an opportunity for jealous Daryl smut and I took it. It's not super dramatic jealousy, since Spencer is just being an asshole (I love how Spencer is the de facto character used for jealous Daryl stuff lol he's always getting shit on in fics but no one likes him that much so it's fine), but Daryl does get super insecure and wonders if he even deserves Reader, so I classify this as jealous Daryl. I packed a bit of fluff in here too so I hope y'all enjoy that. Oh, what a cute little possum he is...

What are the odds? you kept asking yourself, as though it even mattered at all. The odds were slim, of course, but it had happened regardless: somehow, you’d been thrown back into your old life, a life you thought you’d left back in Washington D.C.

Politics were never your strong suit, but it was in your family from day one. Your father was a renowned lobbyist at the capital, and your mother was a Virginia senator at some point, you didn’t care much to know the exact years. All you knew was that you wanted nothing to do with it, and that suddenly, you were being stared in the face by a woman you knew as a close family friend: Deanna Monroe.

“So, (Y/N),” she said, delicately swirling the red wine in her glass as she made eye contact with you, studying you across the dining room table in her house, the nicest one in Alexandria, you were sure. “How’d you like it here so far? I noticed Rick’s having you all stay in one house.”

You straightened your back to respond. You were always so intimidated by her, despite the fact you knew she had a liking towards you. At least, she did, at one point. “Yeah,” you sighed. “He’s just playing it safe… I like it here, though. It’s different, that’s for sure.”

“Not really,” replied Spencer, eying you from your right. You wished he’d stop looking at you the way he did, always as if expecting something from you. “It’s more or less like how it was before, I mean. But I guess, you were out there. It’s different out there.” He shoveled a forkful of salad into his mouth, crunching it sharply under his teeth.

“Well,” said Reg, thankfully saving you from having to speak directly to Spencer, “I’m sure you have some interesting stories. Some harder to tell than others, of course.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “We were basically out there from the beginning. You all are lucky, having this place for so long.”

“Have you encountered other communities like ours?” asked Deanna.

“No,” you answered. “Nothing like this. We’ve come across communities, but they were hostile, or tried to take our resources. Those places are gone now… Messed with the wrong people.”

There was an air of warning to your voice, betraying the slight distrust you felt towards Alexandria. Of course, you knew Deanna and the Monroes, family friends as they were, but perhaps spending almost two years or so with a target on your back, along with the rest of your group, made you a little less willing to trust than once before. It was hard to trust anyone these days, to be sure.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, with a slightly smug grin on his disturbingly handsome face. He looked more like a Ken doll than a human being, you always thought. Typical pretty boy, and very self-assured as a result. “Wouldn’t wanna mess with you, huh?” he asked. “You must be pretty good out there, fighting… walkers? That’s what you guys call them?”

“Yeah, walkers,” you said. “I’ve fought a lot… People, too. It’s what you have to do out there. Didn’t think in a million years I’d learn how to shoot a gun.”

“Especially considering your parents’ stance on the subject,” mused Deanna. “I remember your father lobbying for gun control back in the nineties. He was so passionate about it. Your mother, too.”

“So how did you learn how to shoot, anyway?” asked Spencer.

He knew what he was doing, of course. He had to have known.

Anyone could see the relationship you had with Daryl, the man who’d taught you everything you knew when it came to dealing with walkers, people, and other threats to your survival. Surely, Spencer must’ve known, too. The way Daryl had stepped in front of you that day, keeping you close to him as your group stepped through the gates of Alexandria for the first time, how he whispered tenderly into your ear, urging you to stay close to him for fear that something might happen to you in this unfamiliar environment… Indeed, Spencer must’ve known.

You shrugged as you took a sip of your wine. Liquid courage.

“Just sort of… figured it out, I guess,” you said with a light chuckle, as if that could deter Spencer, the guy who’d pretty obviously had a thing for you since you were teenagers, from asking you any more questions. “Comes in handy to know how to shoot a gun when there’s two dozen walkers surrounding you.”

“But your people helped, right?” Spencer asked.

“Of course,” you replied. “We protected each other. Like family.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “But I'm sure you are closer to some of them more than the others, though, right?”

“Spencer,” chided Deanna.

“What? Just making conversation… That, uh… Daryl guy, what’s he like?”

The wine must’ve emboldened him, as the Spencer you thought you knew was at least a little more subtle with his… attraction to you.

“He’s great,” you said. Of course, he was more than great; you loved him, but something told you Spencer knew that. “In fact, he’s sort of like Rick’s right hand man. He’d never admit it, but he’s invaluable to our group… He’s a good man.”

Spencer scoffed, about to say something before Deanna could stop him. “I’m sure. Spencer, why don’t you and Aiden fetch another wine bottle from the pantry? We’ll clean up and get dessert ready.”

Oh, thank God, you thought. You could take Deanna, but Spencer’s attitude was unbearable. Still, after dessert he had followed you onto the front porch, stopping you before you could leave.

“(Y/N),” he said, his hand grasping firmly around your wrist. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You huffed. “Sure,” you said, though there was nothing you really wanted more than to get back to your family across the street, to get back to Daryl, who was having a difficult time adjusting to the new world you’d all stumbled into just hours ago. “I gotta get back, though.”

“Yeah. Gotta get back to your… What is he to you, anyway?”

“Spencer, I don’t want to—”

“No, (Y/N),” he interrupted. “After all the shit you put me through, I think I deserve an explanation.”

“An explanation? An explanation for what?”

He pushed closer, evidently angered by your supposed ignorance. “For why I was never good enough for you.”

You shook your head at the statement, though you had expected him to say something like that. He always liked being the possessor of an unrequited love. He seemed to play the part well, even if it frustrated him. You were certain he didn’t love you at all, but that he had been brainwashed by his mother into thinking that the two of you were a “match made in Heaven.”

You let the young man escort you to one debutante ball and suddenly you’re engaged to be married in the eyes of every political family in your social circle, only you never saw him that way. Not in the slightest.

“I never said you weren’t… good enough for me,” you said. “Spencer, I’m just not interested in you in that way. I’m sorry.”

No matter how many times you had told him that in your life, it didn’t seem to get through to him.

“So you’re with some white trash, redneck loser now, right? That’s the kind of guy you’re interested in? Christ, (Y/N), I saw him gutting a possum earlier. It’s disgusting. I mean, I get you were out there for a while, but now that you’re here, you need to remember your worth. He’s not worthy of you. Not a guy like that, some dumb country bumpkin. You deserve better.”

His words sparked indignation, and hurt at the thought of Daryl being perceived in such a way. You knew in your heart of hearts that Daryl deserved you, that he was the perfect man for you, but it didn’t mean you weren’t hurt by what Spencer said, the way he belittled such a wonderful man who’d cared about you long before you developed an intimate relationship with him.

“How dare you,” you said, the words coated with disgust rising from the pit of your stomach like bile. “You don’t know him, and you certainly don’t know what he’s done for me and my group, so don’t you tell me what I do and don’t deserve because you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

You turned to walk away, stepping down the porch steps until you reached the sidewalk, but Spencer quickly followed, spinning you around to face him as he forcefully held your wrist.

“Spencer,” you warned. “You better let me go.”

If you didn’t know Daryl was more than likely within close enough range to hear your screaming, you would’ve been much more frightened by that look in Spencer’s eye, but had you screamed, you were sure he’d be there in a flash, as he was known to do.

“I’m not letting go until you tell me why I’m not good enough for you and he is.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” you said. “Now let go of me, Spencer. If you don’t let me go I’ll scream bloody murder.”

He huffed and loosened his grip, and only let go completely when a much stronger grip held onto his shoulders, pulling him away from you with the swiftness of a whirlwind.

It turned out you didn’t even have to scream for Daryl to come to your rescue—he was already one step ahead.

“What the hell?!” barked Spencer, pushing Daryl away from him.

It only enraged Daryl more, pushing him to grab the younger man’s collar and jut his face forward until they were very nearly nose-to-nose.

Daryl’s reply was simple, and made even more gruff by the rage causing his nostrils to flare in righteous indignation. “Don’t touch ‘er,” he said. “Or I will knock your teeth out, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good,” Daryl replied, pulling his collar tighter. “‘Cause I’m sure you don’t wanna have to tell everyone that some dumb country bumpkin beat you to a pulp, right? That’d be real embarrassing.”

Spencer swallowed hard and nodded, at this point willing to say anything to get Daryl to let go of him. “Sure, man,” he said. “Just let me go, huh?”

He relinquished his collar with a push as his eyes narrowed to a sharp point. “Go,” he growled. “‘Fore I change my mind.”

He gave you one last look before retreating back into the Monroe house, slamming the door shut to send an echo through the empty moonlight street.

“Hey,” said Daryl as he moved towards you slowly. “You okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you said. “I’m fine… Were you watching us?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Got worried when you didn’t come back. Was waiting out here for ya.”

“Thanks,” you sighed. “I didn’t want you to hear all that, though. He said some awful things.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t matter to me what that asshole thinks. Come on.” He held out his hand to you as he pivoted his body towards the direction of the house your group had been given by Deanna. “You should get some sleep.”

He’d already set up a little corner for the two of you in the living room, amidst the sleeping bodies of the others in your group, all of whom had agreed to sleep in the same room until you could all be sure Alexandria was safe.

You tiptoed around them, holding Daryl’s hand as he guided you closer to the sleeping bag.

He made sure you lowered yourself down into the warm fleece of the sleeping bag, and leaned down briefly to kiss you before standing back up, much to your dismay.

“Daryl,” you sighed. “Where are you going?”

“Keep watch.”

You scoffed. “You know that’s not necessary, right? There’s people on guard on the wall. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he replied. “You sleep now. I’ll be back soon.”

He’d usually never been this eager to leave you alone. As he turned to face the door, you realized something was bothering him, and you were sure it had to do with Spencer.

Of course, there was no way you’d be able to get Daryl to come to bed and talk about his feelings like you wanted him to, so you’d have to be a little more creative, drawing on his inability to resist you in order to get him within arm’s reach again.

“Dar,” you whispered sweetly into the air of the night. “Please… Don’t leave.”

He turned to face you, almost pouting with your sullen features. You already knew he’d be putty in your hands, based on the way his eyes softened.

“I need you,” you said, playing on the exact heartstrings you needed to. Besides, it was true: you needed him. “Just hold me, like you did back at the prison… Please?”

He trudged back over to you, gently leaning his crossbow against the wall before settling down beside you, tucking himself into the warm caress of the sleeping bag.

You immediately slotted your body against his, and though he let out a huff, you could tell his body was allowing itself to settle into yours, wrapping his arms right around you and resting his chin gently on your head as he rubbed your back beneath the warmth of the sleeping bag. The soft fleece insulated the bare parts of your skin, and the immense warmth from his body seemed to radiate all around you in your shared cocoon of comfort.

“Thanks,” you whispered. “I love it when you hold me, you know.”

Love holdin’ you, he thought, but his words were tangled up in the more oppressive thoughts of what Spencer had said, and nothing could come out but a short grunt of acknowledgement.

It occurred to him that he shouldn’t have been holding you, that perhaps it should’ve been someone like Spencer holding you, that he didn’t deserve to hold you, even if it felt so right, so good.

“Daryl?”

“Hm?”

You narrowed his eyes to get a better look at his features, illuminated by the soft light of the porch lantern pouring in gently through the slats of the blinds. Your fingers raised to tuck loose strands of silky brown hair behind his ears. He smirked in slight amusement at how intensely you focused on him.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked.

He was determined to circumvent the topic of discussing what was really on his mind, so instead he revealed to you the other topic weighing heavily on his mind, as usual.

“How damn beautiful you are,” he said. “And all mine, too.”

All his, but should you have been? Maybe you’d be better off with someone else.

“That’s sweet,” you said, tickling his skin as your fingertips delicately traced his jawline up and down. “But that’s not what you were thinking. Tell me… Is it Spencer?”

“Nah… It ain’t that.”

That was a lie, and you knew it, too.

“So what is it? And don’t tell me I’m beautiful again, even if I love to hear it from you.”

He huffed and shook his head, coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t really keep anything from you. “It’s just… What he said, about how I don’t deserve you… How you should be with someone else… How you should be with him.”

“Daryl…”

It hurt so much to see how much he was hurting, how much Spencer’s words had affected him. It was odd, too. Daryl never cared much about what people said, so if what Spencer had said had gotten to him, it must’ve been pretty bad.

You snuggled closer against his chest to kiss his neck, where you nuzzled your head to tickle his skin with the ends of your hair. Your arms wrapped tight around him, keeping his body snug against yours to the point he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, and he certainly didn’t want to.

Your embrace was so potent, and exactly what he needed to feel. He needed your reassurance that you loved him, that you needed him and no one else. Spencer or any other man could never feel the love you had in your heart. That was reserved for him and him alone, just as his love was for you and no other woman. Did he deserve your love? He could never be sure, but in this moment, he knew at least that he still had you.

“Don’t ever say that,” you said. “If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. Everything you do for me, for everyone… You’re wonderful. Guys like Spencer are just jealous of how brave and selfless you are. He could never be anything like you, and that bothers him. It’s not even about me. Spencer doesn’t care about me, he just wants to… He wants to make me feel bad for turning him down back in the day. Get some kind of revenge. That’s all. And you know what? It’s not working. I’ll never regret turning him down. You are so much better than him in every way. No comparison. You’re perfect to me.”

As usual when you made him feel this way, he was rendered speechless. He couldn’t even think of the words to say, all he knew was what he felt, and what he felt was such a powerful beam of light streaming through him, manifesting itself in the most potent form of love he’d ever felt. Your words were more potent than anything he’d heard Spencer say that night, and they were enough to reassure him.

“You okay?” you asked, smiling softly as you tried to figure out exactly what he was thinking. He always had some inscrutable look upon his face. “Daryl—”

His lips came crashing down on yours, this time with more pent-up passion than usual as his hands quickly roamed down your sides, squeezing and caressing your curves he’d come to know so well. He found comfort in the familiarity of your body, how beautiful it felt under his hands and how pliable you were for him, always willing to let him lead you where he wanted.

His tongue slipped eagerly around your mouth, and his hands started rubbing you feverishly under the confines of the sleeping bag, desperate to touch every inch of you to the extent he could in this setting. You giggled into his mouth, trying to match his fervor by moving your hands all over his back and shoulders, then up to his head to tangle your fingers in his silky brown mop of long hair. He growled at the feeling, secretly hoping you’d pull his hair just a little, to show how desperately you wanted him.

It’d been so long since the prison, when he made love to you last. Now, in the aftermath of your heartfelt words, all he wanted was to show you just how much he loved you, too. If he couldn’t vocalize it, he’d demonstrate it. He’d rip those gorgeous moans and sultry whimpers from your sweet lips until your vocal cords were shot. He’d get his hands wet with your arousal until his fingertips wrinkled like raisins. He’d ride your body into oblivion, so in the morning you might be a little sore from his weight on top of you. He’d let you touch and kiss and lick him like you owned him, and you did. You owned his mind, body, and soul, and all he could think about in the wake of his insecurity was how much he needed to show you that.

When his body overtook yours, on top of you as his mouth devoured you, you felt his erection semi-hard against your thigh, and his grunts of passion soaked your tender lips in eagerness to feel more of his body. Still, you heard what seemed like bodies stirring nearby, reminding you that you were not alone, but surrounded by your group, as usual. They might have been asleep, but any sounds of passion the two of you would make would surely wake them, and embarrassment would turn your lovers’ embrace into one of slight shame.

“Mm, Daryl,” you moaned into his lips as you pulled him away by the cheeks. His lips still attacked yours, pecking them while you tried to get him to focus on your eyes instead of your mouth. “Baby, we can’t do this in here.”

He looked like he’d just been awoken from some strange, alien-abduction-induced trance, but his rationality quickly kicked in.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Where can we do it?”

You laughed, amused by his desperation. “Well, um… There’s a bedroom upstairs? Nice big bed… More private… How’s that sound, stud?”

Once he had you in that room, he wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, watching you pull off your shirt with intense interest. Your bra flew somewhere into the darkness of the room, while his pants and underwear hung around his ankles, dragging on the floor as he moved to grab your waist.

He pulled you in for another kiss while your hands grasped at his semi-hard cock. You pulled on his length gently, but with enough strength to elicit a deep, guttural growl from his mouth that poured directly into yours.

As you massaged his cock, warm and beginning to throb, he yanked at your pants to remove them until they hung around your ankles, along with your panties, nearly soaked through already.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, gesturing to his bare thigh. “Rub yourself on me.”

He didn’t wait for you to move on your own, instead taking one of your legs and wrapping it around his back, and forcing your bare crotch to rest on his bent thigh.

You wasted no time in doing as he asked, moving your hips back and forth in a sensual rhythm until your clit felt the pressure of the friction. Skin on skin gave way to pleasure, and an intense tingling just barely beginning to build up in your core.

“Oh,” you moaned into his lips. “Dar…”

His lips ghosted over yours as he watched you writhe and wriggle on his thigh, your naked body held and supported by his. Your hands clinged to his shirt while you hugged him tight, demanding his closeness as your pleasure got closer and closer to taking over.

“That’s right,” he whispered as he tugged on his cock. “You like that, don’t you? I know what you like, sweet thing.”

His breath tickled your neck and sent you into a delirious state of giddiness as you giggled between moans. “Mhm… My perfect man…”

You lowered your hand now, removing his from his cock and demanding your own time with it. You pulled up and down, back and forth as your body grinded against him. His hands now held your lower back to keep you steady, and to increase the pressure on your clit as he manually rubbed your core on his thigh.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop… Daryl…”

“I won’t stop,” he panted. “You gotta come real good for me… Right on my thigh. You gonna come, sweetheart? Just for me?”

“Y-yes.” Your eyes closed tightly as you concentrated on the shocks reverberating through you, getting closer and closer to the most intense burst of pleasure. Your body rutted faster against his thigh, and soon you couldn’t tug on his cock anymore as your orgasm came at full speed. “Oh, God! I’m coming…”

Your body became tight and clenched, and yet loose and shaky all at once. You tucked your head right into the crook of his shoulder to ride out your orgasm, humping his thigh as each pulse seemed to become even more intense.

If you weren’t in such a state of bliss, you might’ve noticed Daryl’s fingers inside you now, feeling the clenching of your twitching walls squeeze his digits in the most beautiful way.

He pulled his fingers back and forth, each time going deeper and deeper until he was so tightly wound up inside you that you could feel his fingertips in your lower abdomen, penetrating your deepest point.

“Ah!” you moaned, laughing in slight delirium at the feeling. “Oh, yes… Yes, that was so good…”

But it wasn’t anything compared to his cock, you knew. He pushed you forward once he couldn’t feel your twitching anymore, and tugged off his vest and shirt until he was fully naked, a gorgeous specimen of a man with broad shoulders and the most beautiful, sweaty chest you’d ever seen. His hair was disheveled and shagged out all over his face, but even through those unkempt strands of deliciously dark hair, you could see the sheer lust in his narrowed, penetrative eyes.

Those eyes gazed over your body, draped lazily over the edge of the bed as you, too, eyed him, that perfect man of yours.

Your breasts heaved, as you were still winded from your intense orgasm. Your legs spread apart slowly, giving you enough space to touch yourself, sloppily circling your clit with your fingers as you daydreamed about him, despite how close he was to you. Just not feeling his touch was enough to make you miss him.

His eyes lowered to your engorged, open pussy, dripping with the evidence of your arousal while you humped your enthusiastic hand. He touched himself, too, but it wasn’t going to be able to match the real thing.

“Oh… Fuck me, Daryl,” you groaned, almost in agony at how badly you needed him inside of you. “Please. Fuck me so good, the way only you can.”

He could never say no to you. Well, not that he wanted to.

He quickly straddled your waist and brought his cock to your entrance. After just a few moments of teasing you, trailing his tip along your slit, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He spat on his hand to lubricate his sensitive shaft before plunging into you, quickly meeting your hilt.

His arms stretched up to hold yours above your head, pinned to the mattress as he began to ride you, fast and hard and without a semblance of a break between intense, blissful thrusts.

You didn’t mind the pace, though, not when each thrust filled you perfectly as far as his cock could go, and hit the most amazing spots inside you. As another orgasm began to form, Daryl watched your supple breasts bounce with each powerful thrust he delivered, and that was nearly enough to send him over the edge, until you came again, and the clenching of your pussy around his throbbing cock began to milk the start of his orgasm.

He pulled out swiftly and moved off of you and back, letting go of your hands so you could pull his length to finish.

Still in the throes of your second orgasm, you leaned forward to eagerly stroke him as your sensitive body rode out your high, complete with intense whimpers and moans of pleasure.

“Oh, shit,” he grunted. “I’m gonna come.”

You angled his cock towards your breasts as spurts of white exploded from his tip, a great heavy load that coated your breasts in droplets of warm cream. He was quick to push you back, pressing his lips to yours as he rubbed the cum all over your soft, gorgeous breasts, gently pinching your nipples all the while.

You laughed into his mouth, and he laughed, too, a strange occurrence for the usually serious man, but sex (and you) brought out the less serious side, the one that could forget about petty words spoken by unrequited lovers.

Sweat and cum pooled between your chests as he laid over you, kissing your face at every possible angle until he reached your lips again, pouting and raw from all his attention.

“Feel better now?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he sighed against your cheek before kissing you there once more. “I needed that… Reassurance.”

You smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Reassurance for what?”

“That I deserve you,” he said, almost ashamed of his insecurity.

You tilted your head and smiled sweetly in understanding. “Of course you deserve me. You deserve anything that makes you happy. I just… hope I make you happy, Daryl. That’s all I want to do.”

Funny, that’s all he wanted to do, too—make you happy.

“You make me so happy,” he said. “You’re everything to me.”

“Ditto,” you giggled as you made an attempt to fix his disheveled hair. “Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shrugged, almost bashfully. “Screwing me.”

He scoffed. “Don’t gotta thank me. Couldn’t wait any longer. Was about to get blue balls.”

“Mm,” you hummed in amusement. “No wonder you were so grumpy.”

“Pfft… Yeah, well had I been any worse I might’ve beaten that prick to death for touchin’ you. Don’t care whose son he is.”

You bit your lip, amused as you watched him pontificate. “You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous, Dar.”

He rolled over and shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling, slightly smirking. “Ain’t jealous of no one. ‘Specially not that douchebag. Tell ya what, possum might be white trash but it’s damn good when you ain’t had anythin’ else in almost two years.”

You laughed and turned on your side to snuggle into his chest. “Are you my little possum, Daryl?” you cooed teasingly. “My amazing, white trash possum? Possums are so cute…” Your hand lowered to his belly to tickle his soft skin.

“Stop it, woman,” he scolded half-heartedly, with a hint of a laugh at the feeling of your tickling. “I ain’t a damn possum.”

“Oh, but I like possums. Can you be a possum for me, please? You know, they’re very tough, resilient animals. They play dead, so they’re smart and sly. They’re also adorable, like I said. I think you’re a possum.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass… But I love you.”

“I love you, too, possum.”

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