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bloatedandalone04 · 13 hours

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The Lucky Ones - Part 2

➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5

Word Count: 3k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms.

You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?”

“Please,”

You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?”

“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”

Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”

You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely.

When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids.

So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not.

Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?”

“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him.

You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?

The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.

Like how you’re looking for him.

You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”

“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now.

“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”

Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”

There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”

Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”

That was true.

Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.

That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since.

He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard.

You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone.

“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”

Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”

You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod.

“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards.

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it.

His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you.

“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard.

“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words.

“Do you think she made it out?”

“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.”

Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost.

Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring?

He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her.

“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.”

He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too.

When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?

Rick might be alive.

Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.

They’re alive.

You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you.

There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have.

You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison.

Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest.

You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay.

You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job.

Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.

Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms.

His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest.

You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere.

But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them.

“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”

It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure.

You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”

Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it.

You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.

Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick.

“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”

He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,”

You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”

“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”

“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.

He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”

You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”

Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away.

“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.”

And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated.

Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.

You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay.

The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”

You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,”

Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you.

“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes angst #rick grimes fluff #the walking dead angst #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd imagines #twd #twd rick #rick grimes #twd fanfiction

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scudslut · 2 months

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

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gutsby · 3 months

Text

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut

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leehoney0 · 5 months

Text

OK?

Female reader . suggestive . Bimbo in the apocalypse!

Bimbo reader! Having to be dragged away from a store as she stares down a mannequin for a skirt you’ve been eyeing since before the end of the world,rick having to talk you out of it.There was no way you could take down all those walkers that invaded the store.

Bimbo reader! Going on runs with rick to help him out since everyone was so busy,rick knows you only come with him so you can look through peoples abandoned closets and you get some alone time with your favorite dilf!

Bimbo reader! Who is only allowed to wear her bright pink clothes when there at base!,rick would never risk you getting hurt so he makes sure he gives you a yes on your outfit before heading out.

Bimbo reader! Crying as you ruined one of your shirts with walker guts,Rick holding you as you cry into his chest.him having to explain to you that you should of left your good clothes at home.

Bimbo reader! always listening to ricks commands if he feels it’s too dangerous,he send you off to hide until he calls your name to come out from your hiding spot,running into his arms to make sure he’s alright.

Bimbo reader! and Rick having a code word,it being the name of your favorite brand,him and you using it since you came across the wrong guy once and he never wants that to happen again!

Bimbo reader! meeting the new recruits,not noticing how they all seem to be staring at your chest,whispering among themself if you had a boyfriend and who would get a chance with the dumb klutz who’s clothes didn’t wear appropriate clothes for an apocalypse!

Bimbo reader! who makes her cell all pink,choosing one in the corner to have more privacy,lucky you didn’t have to share.ricks rooms was next to yours,although he likes yours better.you always found nice pillows on your runs.

Bimbo reader! giving kisses to everyone she likes,thanking them by a peck on their cheek,Daryl who brings you back something knowing your gonna give him one of your peck.. Rick glaring at the interactions.

Bimbo reader! Glaring at anyone who stares at Rick,not Knowing he wouldn’t give them the light of day as he overheard them gossiping,how it wasn’t right the way you dressed,Rick keeping you close to him that night showing you off proudly!

Bimbo reader! Who Wouldn’t stop crying when they all got separated after the prison getting stuck with Maggie,your cheeks always stained with tears not knowing where Rick was or if he was even alive.

Bimbo reader! Not being able to function without Rick,he was always there to protect you.everyone wondered how you were able to survive this long,reuniting with Rick was the happiest you had ever been.

Bimbo reader! when entering Alexandria had a lot of the guys asking for your time,you had been so busy looking for Rick that you had brushed them off without even knowing what they were asking.staring at your behind of you ran off to find Rick

Bimbo reader! Not really having a job around Alexandria,they tried to find you something to do but you just couldn’t grasp much,so they just made you water the plants and crops since that was the easiest thing around.

Bimbo reader! Not liking any of the clothes they offered when you first arrived begging Rick or Daryl to take you to the nearest abandoned homes or shops go find something more appealing.more PINK

Why can’t I just be a girl without someone telling me it goes back to the patriarchy… IKNOW let me live jeez I know!!!! Anyways enjoy inst the best but havent been writing good these past few times

#bimbo!reader #bimbo reader #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes fluff #rick x reader #rick x you #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #twd rick #twd fanfiction #twd fic

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writella · 4 months

Text

A Different Kind of Ride

Synopsis: Reader wants to ride Daryl’s bicep!

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader. Just smut, (bicep) riding, masturbation (m). I think they’re both giving switch vibes, they enjoy watching, and are obsessed with their partner’s body. Overall, lots of grinding, desperation, and Daryl wanting to panty sniff— slay. Mostly proofread. wc: 1.7k.

A/N: Literally sighing and moaning and licking my lips while thinking about this. He’s so fine. Also hi!!! I missed you all. with love, writella. ♡

The scene starts in his room. He’s laying almost slanted on the bed. His head rests near the bottom half of where the pillows reside. His shirt is off, but his pants remain. His tools and weapons were still attached to his lower hips. He was dirty. Grimey and sweaty. Small strands of his hair sticking to his face, while the rest fell effortlessly above his shoulders and onto the bed.

You, on the other hand, were clean. Dried, soft, and smelling of fresh creamy white soap in your pajamas, all ready for sleep.

You didn’t care though. That’s what you get when you want him. And you liked the rattle, and cling, and thump of his belt as you continued to bounce and grind down on the area where his cock resides. Clothed and covered under two layers but the way his bulge pressed and squished perfectly into you was more than enough. Not to mention how the seam of your shorts made its way into your folds adding an extra amount of friction that scratched your clit just perfectly.

It all felt just as good as having him inside of you, honestly. Your eyes rolled back and then closed, your mouth stays slightly open. Your top teeth come to bite your bottom lip every time you rocked forward and the feeling was just right. You start pushing deeper and harder, your hands rest of his chest for assistance as your eyes screw tight: you were focused.

“Need you, need you, want you; it feels so good; please, please,” are the thoughts that scream inside you as you quickly and tightly press down into his groin and then start to jump: imagining him thrusting into you all short and fast— it feels like a little a bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce motion, accompanied in unison by pants that make you go into a quick and breathy “hm-hm-hm-hm.”

Then you start to rock on him again, it’s like an ocean wave: pushing up as high as you can go, and then pushing all the way down and letting your clit feel him from bottom to top— “mmm, ah,” you whine.

Your eyes are scrunched so tight, giving it your all, trying your bestest like the good little girl you are; determined to make yourself come. You needed it.

And Daryl sees it. He watches. Mesmerized by the focus and determination of your entire body.

He can’t tell if he’s the one in control because of your desperation and how little you need from him to get you soaked, or if it’s you because of your position, and because of how effortlessly you have taken control to reach your high.

Either way, you’re both intoxicated by each other. You were on him almost instantly as he entered the room, after all. And he let it happen. You told him you missed him, you went to hug him, he kissed your forehead and messed up your hair, giving you a sleepy “hey,” with a bashful smile only saved for you. Then wordlessly he let you take off his vest and shirt, pushing him onto the bed— which did nothing in actuality, he was almost immovable, but as your hands pressed on his shoulders, he went down anyway. Down for the ride, enjoying the sight.

So much so that his eyes are dazed as the look upon you. Looking at how your waist contorts in unison with the rock of your hips on top of him, how your nipples harden under your shirt, how putting your hands on his chest and every time he makes one of his dark and gruffy sounds makes your pussy jerk and you moan louder.

His hands grab onto your hips, pushing you forward. He sees how the shape of your little shorts molded into your pussy lips as you grind down. He bets they’re drenched in that area now. If you come in them, he wants to suck on it, and then rip them off and eat you out when you’re done.

His hands trail higher, securing themselves onto your waist. You grab his arms then as you continue to rock, going from his forearms to his biceps, feeling the curves. You open your eyes, you don’t even catch his entrancement at the area of where your bodies meet. You focus on the divets of his arms, how strong he is, how big he is. It makes you whine frustratingly, pushing into him faster.

Suddenly, you get off of him and onto your knees, hurrying to take your shorts off.

Daryl’s eyes don’t even look at you, “Give ‘em,” he says as you reach for the hem. He looks straight at the wet and sweaty pair on you, eyeing the wet spot that has spread in the area of your mound. Truly he could see almost everything despite the cover by the way they folded into you.

The demand doesn’t even surprise you as much as it excites you. You throw them at his face. No questions.

You extend his arm on the bed, his hand sprawled flat. Stroking it, you breathlessly say, “I want this.” You're desperate but you wait for approval, but he has his other hand on his face, holding your thrown shorts over his nose and mouth like a mask, breathing you in. His breath inward is loud and it’s followed by a deep and raspy hum. It made your pussy jut, your eyes widen, your mouth gasp. You whine impatiently, inserting your finger into your hole as he moves the part with the seam to his nose, breathing it in again, and then, sucking it dry with his mouth, watching your fingers spread more wetness all over your pussy.

You moan and your body shakes with his eye contact. “Please?” You ask him with a pout.

He moves his arm you held to use both hands to undo his belt. He sees that you continue to rub your clit with a sad look on your face as you wonder what he’s going to do. He drops his pants to the ground and you watch his boxers make a tent on top of his hard cock as he places his arm back where you put it.

“Go on,” he tells you finally, giving you a nod. “Do whatever you want.”

Ecstatically, you move your knees on either side of him, lowering down, and letting your wet pussy lips open around the curves of his upper arm, taking up as much of him as they can. It’s only a little, your tiny lips can only cover so much, but it feels great. You clit presses down against his arm perfectly, getting the direct attention you desired.

You begin to rock and it feels as perfect as you expected. Your mouth opens again and your eyes flutter close, focusing on your task— riding his bicep and making yourself come. You were determined.

Daryl’s dick twitches as he watches you. His other hand comes behind his head, resting it under him to tilt his head up a bit, getting more comfortable as he gazes on your blissed out expression.

It felt great to know how attracted you were to him. That even his arms alone could have your pussy become a sopping mess. At this rate he knew you would come tonight from that alone. The thought makes precum slip from his tip and make him grunt and hum lowly; he just couldn’t get enough of watching you. Like a little horny-teenaged-babygirl discovering grinding for the first time, doing it on anything she could to feel a release.

It made him finally push down his boxers and touch himself. He spits on his hand and begins to stroke his cock. He started to pump, his grunts becoming more strangled, he couldn’t even attempt to start edging eventually. You looked so cute and pathetic, so sexy. He wanted to come with you.

You moan from your movements and from hearing his voice. It makes your eyes flutter open as your head tilts, catching a glimpse of Daryl working on himself which makes you open them all the way. Now you rock as you watch him. “Oh, Daryl,” you plead.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asks gruffly. Giving you direct eye contact as he pumps.

“I’m making you want to touch yourself like that?” You ask sweetly, giggling as you continue to rub your clit just right against him. “Huh, Daryl?” His dick and his hand looked so veiny and angry as pumped. It made you moaned again. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.”

Daryl almost chokes on his breath. Every mean and grumpy comment he could have left him. All he has grunts and you can swear he almost growls because of your little smile and the way he watches your breasts fall out from your shirt as you take it off. He’s speechless and pumping into his hand faster, watching as your pussy tries to engulf the entirety of his arm.

You grind down faster, pushing and pushing forward and backward on his bicep until you feel a yummy hotness rise. Your clit felt like it was on fire with goodness, you finally were about to explode. You pant and moan and Daryl begins to pump himself harder. His hand slapping against his skin, his voice making a low sound every time he reaches the end of his shaft. All there is, is the sound of him and you and your voices— nonsensical, reaching your peaks.

Your breath hitches, and your hands come to the bed, your back arches and your head tilts forward as you go harder and harder, furiously pushing into him until finally— “OH!”— you come.

He isn’t far behind. He watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide, your moan and the feeling of his arm being drenched telling him you reached your orgasam which makes him do so as well. A strangled groan, quick and paused, erupts and is then interrupted by another more loud moan as hot spurts of white jump out onto his leg and the bed.

You look on breathlessly. Your movements now slowed but continuous as you bring yourself down from your high, his come messing up the sheets making you whine from the sight.

When you both catch your breaths and you move your thighs from his arm his hands grab you by the hips. His movements direct you to sit on his groin as you once did before.

He wants to see how you ride on his cock now.

And of course, you oblige.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader smut #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead smut #twd smut #twd fic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #wonders with daryl

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liliesdiary · 4 months

Text

Fuck Your Boyfriend, You're Mine.

Yandere Rick Grimes x You

Requested by @versatilehater

cw: stalker!rick grimes, pervert!rick grimes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, mentions of cheating, age gap (legal), dark!rick, psycho beard rick, bondage.

word count: 1k+

note: I'm sorry this took forever to write, it was the holidays so I was busy <3 I hope you enjoy this angel 🎀

He was watching you through your windows once again, watching as you danced in your kitchen with that short blue sunflower dress of yours that you love to wear. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your voice, and your doe eyes that scream fuck me.

He would do anything to have you on your knees staring at him and only him. He hated the way your boyfriend treated you, he was an asshole who used you for your body. Rick wanted nothing more than to beat him to a pulp and make him watch as he fucks your tight little hole. He wanted to kill him.

He wanted to treat you way better than your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. He wanted to spoil you and treat you like a doll yet you were taken by someone else.

His hands clench as he sees your boyfriend ignoring you as you tried to show him what you baked for him. The way your eyes saddened and filled with tears when your boyfriend walked away and didn't even glance at the cookies you made for him. You look up at the window and notice the older man staring, once again, it makes you shiver.

He continued to stare into your eyes, staring through your window. You started to have chills up your spine and closed the curtains. Rick was gonna take you away and make you his tonight.

Hours passed by and your boyfriend had left the house to hang out with his friends. Rick stood outside your window with a backpack full of tools, waiting for the sleeping pills he put in your water to work so he can take you away.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book decorated with a pink ribbon. You flipped the pages bored out of your mind as the smell of your candles filled your nose. You looked at the clock and noticed it was still early but you were so sleepy, more sleepy than usual. You turned off your candles and placed your book on your table. You cover yourself with your blanket, trying to get comfortable and hugging your pillow.

After a couple of minutes, you start to drift off to sleep. Your body laid peacefully on your bed, you looked so cute in your blue sunflower dress and white stockings . Rick stared at your sleeping body and started to climb through your window. He moved quietly, trying to not wake you up and scare you away.

He looked over you as you laid there, his hands touched your hair and gently grabbed a fist full. He smelled your soft hair, it smelled so sweet, like strawberries and cherries. He sat on your bed and slowly took off the blanket covering you.

He started to unzip his backpack, pulling out rope. He gently tied the rope around your wrist and body. The way the rope hugged your body made him hard. He tied a blindfold around your eyes and gagged you.

You started to move around in your sleep, feeling uncomfortable. He noticed and carried you bridal style. He was gonna take you to a cabin far away with him and turn you into his little doll.

He carried your drugged body into his rusty truck, laying you in the passenger seat as you were tied. He touched his beard as he stared at our sleeping body, you were so beautiful. He drove away to a cabin he found a while back before they arrived at Alexandria. He wanted to hide you where no one could ever find you. He wanted to keep you away so no one could ever hurt you.

An hour passes and he arrives at the cabin, it was dark and the cabin was a little creepy. He carried your body into the dark cabin and placed you down on the bed upstairs. He looked around and checked the place, making sure no one else was here to hurt you. He pulled out his gun and looked at every room with his flashlight. Then when he has cleared the whole house, he lit up some candles by your new bed.

He has managed to bring a couple of your belongings, like the book you were reading, ribbons and bows, your makeup, some candles, some of your favorite cooking supplies and stuffed animals. He was planning on going back and getting more, his backpack was already full of your belongings.

He put the gun down on the table and sat down by your bed. He stared at your body and noticed you were starting to squirm. You had finally woken up and you were terrified. You couldn't move and you started to freak out. He hushed you and tried to calm you down, “Shh don't worry sweetheart, I'm here.

You recognized his gentle and raspy voice, it was Rick. You tried to talk but the gag muffled your voice. Rick grabbed you jaw tightly, “I'll take off your gag if you promise you'll be quiet, doll. Be a good girl and stay calm.”

You nod your head in fear and he released his hand on your jaw and took off the gag. “Thank you.. can I please have some water?”

He smiled and got up to get a water bottle he had in his bag, he lifted your jaw gently and poured the water into your mouth, staring at the way the water flowed down your throat. “You're being such a good girl.”

Your legs twitched at his praise, you can't help but deny the way it made you feel. His voice, the way his rough hands felt on your soft face and that sexy beard of his made you so weak in the knees. You tried to shake the thought off, trying to stay loyal to your boyfriend.

He looked at your body, the way it was reacting to your touch, “You're so cute. I just had to take you away.”

You start to tremble, “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No sweetheart, I would never hurt you. I'll treat you like a delicate doll. But if you try to escape, I can't say I won't be rough.”

His response made you whimper a bit, frightened yet so turned on. The older man always scared you, the way he stared at you when you introduced yourself for the first time was full of lust and hunger. You knew that look yet you continued to visit him, baked him his favorite sweets and cooked Carl breakfast. The way the older man wrapped his hands around your body as you cooked for him made your heart jump, yet you always tried to reject his touches because you were taken. He always hated that.

Now that you were tied up and blindfolded in a place you don't know, you were terrified yet so submissive. You can't help but yearn for his touch, for his beard to touch your face as he kissed your soft lips.

He noticed the way your body reacted to his voice, “Does your body yearn for me sweetheart? You should have just asked.”

You whimper, “No, please don't touch me. I have a boyfriend.”

He scoffs and starts to touch your knee, “You mean the same boyfriend that's cheating on you right now?”

Your eyes filled up with tears, “What? What do you mean? He's at his friend's house.”

The older man shook his head, “I'm sorry sweetheart but that piece of shit is at another girl's house. That's why I took you away, that piece of shit didn't deserve you”

You whimper as he caresses your thighs dressed in your white stockings making you squirm and moan, “This feels wrong…”

“Shh sweet doll, just enjoy this.” he said as he gently took your stockings off your body. You squirmed and whimpered, your whimpers and pathetic attempts at untying the ropes only made him harder.

He grabbed your tear stained face and kissed you, “you're mine. Fuck your boyfriend.”

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lunajay33 · 1 day

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Missing🖤

Summary: You and Daryl got separated at the started and now you’ve just been wandering hoping to find a secure place will you find Daryl again?

Pairing: Season 2 Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

You and Daryl have known eachother since you were kids, growing up right next to eachother, along the way feelings grew and you got together right before graduation, you became a teacher and he worked at a mechanic shop, life was nice and simple together, you were even thinking about having a family but then things change, the world ended when you were teaching and you haven’t seen Daryl since, you search everywhere for him until eventually you had to leave down because of the walkers and venture out on your own, hoping you meet him again

Along the way you came across a barn, you scavenged for food finding some cans and as you looked out the window a horse was grazing the field, you packed up the rest of the food and ventured out finding a saddle approaching the horse steadily trying not to spook it away, thankfully it was friendly and approached you with ease letting, you strapped the saddle around her and hopped up, leading the horse as it trotted north

You’d be alone on your own for about 5 weeks now and it’s been lonely, you just wanted to see Daryl again just needed for him to hold you, you were on the horse walking through trees when a clearing opened up showing a farm house with people walking around, you were a bit wary since you’ve run into some shady people along the way but for some reason you were drawn to this farm, you lead the horse, you named Pixie, slowly as to not scare the people

As you and Pixie walked up the dirt road people started to gather, you hopped off Pixie holding her rope and waiting for the others to do or say anything and not just ogle you

“Who are you?” A man in a police outfit asked

“I’m y/n, I’ve been alone since the start, until I found pixie here” you said as you pet her shiny black hair

“Where’d you come from, who’d you find this place?” Another man asked he seemed a little crazy

“I’m from outside of Atlanta, I’ve just been wandering until I found something, I lost someone at the start and I’ve just been looking for him”

“Sorry to break it to you, he’s probably dead”

“Shane!” The officer glared at the man

“I still have hope, but do you guys have room for one more, I know how to hunt and I can help out”

“Of course, we could use another hunter, got one out hunting right now”

“Thank you”

The officer who introduced himself as Rick, showed you around introduced you to everyone even the owner of the farm, the sun was setting by the time all that was done

“We don’t have anymore tents we’ll have to go out tomorrow and get you one”

“Oh that’s no problem I can sleep out with Pixie” it was the normal for you now

“You sure?”

“Yeah it’s no problem…….shouldn’t your hunter be back by now?”

“Yeah oh there he is now” he said looking over you shoulder at the dirt road

A man with a crossbow and plaid shirt with ripped sleeves, you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere, you sprinted off towards him your heart racing, tears streaming down your face

“DARYL” you screamed as he looked up dropping his crossbow just in time to open his arms and wrap himself around you as you threw yourself into his arms

“Is it really you peach?” He asked in such disbelief it broke your heart

“It’s me, I can’t believe I found you I thought I’d never see you again, I looked everywhere for you I waited at our house hoping you’d come back but……I had to leave I had to find you” you said quickly your eyes not believing you found him having to tell him everything you’ve been thinking these 5 weeks without him

5 weeks may not seem like a lot but in the apocalypse there was no guarantee about anything so everything was precious

You held his biceps as he traced his fingers over ever features on your face completely forgetting others were around you both

“So I’m guessing you two know eachother?” Glenn asked

“She’s my girl” Daryl stated not taking his eyes off of you

“Thee Daryl Dixon got a girl?” Andrea laughed, you turned and glared at her

“You bet your ass I’m his”

“And ya ain’t ever leaving my side again”

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frost-queen · 4 months

Text

Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [ read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.

Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.

“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”

Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.

Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.

“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.

Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.

You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.

“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.

You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.

“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.

Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.

“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.

Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.

Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.

Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.

At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.

Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.

Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.

After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.

Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.

He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.

You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.

Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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leclercstarrs · 9 months

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protecter, daryl dixon.

summary: in which your daughter gets curious about you and daryl’s relationship after he continues to protect the two of you!

warnings: obviously reader has a kid, fem!reader, and this is not yet proof read!

notes: requested by anon, hope this finds you well bby!

The prison is gone. The governor destroyed it and everything in it’s path, leaving it for the dead to make their new home. Now, the group is separated, everyone off with their own smaller group, hoping to reunite and find each other again.

You, fortunately, got split off with your daughter, who you never would’ve left, and Daryl. The three of you are somewhere in the forest, surrounding a small fire, eating scraps of the rabbit the man killed.

“Here, want some more?” You offer your daughter some more of your share of the rabbit meat, making sure she’s not going hungry for the night. “No, she can have some of mine.” Daryl insists, gently pushing your hand back down, instead offering the little girl some of his share. “I’m full.” Your daughter rejects the offer, brushing her hands off on her pants, “Ya sure?” He asks again. She nods in response.

“Okay, let’s go to sleep.” You move towards your daughter and give her your sweater, leaving you in a tank top. It’s a cold night, but she’s your priority at the moment, so you help her put on the clothing. “Night, mommy.” She mumbles, pausing for a second and patting the wood chips and dirt down, then lying down. “Goodnight, Daryl.” The girl adds. You glance at him, admiring his smile at your daughter.

Your daughter sits up, scanning her surroundings. It’s still dark out, she couldn’t sleep. “Mommy.” She whispers, attempting to wake you up. Your currently sleeping next to Daryl, his arms wrapped around your waist, soft snores escaping from his lips. “Mommy.” The young girl shakes you again. “What’s wrong?” Daryl shoots up when he hears your daughter’s voice, immediately grabbing his crossbow that’s next to him, turning back to face her. “I couldn’t sleep.” She says. “Oh.” Daryl places the weapon back down, carefully shuffling around to sit next to the girl, deciding to let you get some more rest.

“What’s keeping ya up?” He asks your daughter, receiving a shrug in response. “

Are you scared?” Daryl tries a different approach to his question.

She shrugs.

“Okay.” He pauses, starting to feel awkward in the silence, deciding to pick a small flower out of the ground and twirl it around in his hands. “So, you’re dating my mom?” She blurts out. Daryl’s eyes widen slightly, causing him to drop the flower, turning to face her. “What?” He replies. “I’m not stupid.” The girl pauses, “I know you like her.” She continues, teasing the older man about your relationship with him. He gets flustered, slightly blushing, “None of your business, it’s personal, adult stuff.” He scoffs, earning a laugh from her. “It became my business. You’re always protecting us, which is nice. I like you, I think you’re good for my mom. But..” She sighs, “If you ever do anything to hurt her, you won’t see the next day.” She threatens the man. Daryl shakes his head, not taking your daughter seriously, but still responding with an honest answer, “I’d never hurt her.”

#sorry i lit cannot write about having kids 😭 this might suck #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd

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dixonzzgirl · 3 months

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imagine…

finding daryl a really cool zippo lighter and seeing him mindlessly flick it open and close throughout the day.

sitting with your feet in his lap while you both relax on the porch swing (alexandria era).

pinky linking instead of full on hand holding.

finally getting to the playful butt swat stage of your relationship + him winding up his t-shirt and chasing you around the house.

him praising you whenever you kill an animal: “nice shot, girl.” “look at you.“ “atta girl.”

reading a book with your legs crossed on his work bench as he tinkers with his bike.

getting a cold and when daryl dips down to kiss your lips, you turn your head away from him. “daryl, don’t! i don’t wanna get you sick!” and then he grabs your chin and presses a firm kiss on your lips anyway.

daryl finds a cowboy hat and drops it on your head. you let out a giggle. “what’s that saying? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you smirk. his cheeks darken and he turns away from you. “think ya’ got tha’ backwards..” he drawls. “no? pretty sure i’m right…”

eating a lollipop and daryl walks right up and pulls it out of your mouth and puts it in his (or vise versa).

having a journal that you can both communicate in. we all know daryl isn’t the best at communicating his feelings verbally and maybe you aren’t either, so you just write back and forth to each other.

i love the journal idea because you would use it for everything. daryl has to be up early to help rick with something? he’ll scribble a quick “helping rick. come find me.” and as soon as you wake up and feel the void in bed beside you, you go right to the journal.

him getting hard as fuck when you give shane attitude (farm era).

you get into an accident on a run and ending up losing a lot of blood and you wake up later in the infirmary. “ya’ lost a lotta blood,” he says. “then i bet you did too…” you smiled groggily knowing that he gave you some of his (he’s a universal donor).

rubbing aloe vera on his sunburnt skin and he just lets out these sexy ass heavy breaths.

him watching you get visibly frustrated when someone else is helping you with something, but not doing it the way you want it done, so daryl steps in and tells them to get lost.

daryl giving you cold medicine while you’re sick and he makes you take it in front of him and open your mouth to show him that you swallowed it.

a/n: these are my favorite scenarios to imagine when I'm in class :) if you wanna use any of these ideas for a fic, tag me! i'd love to see them!

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xwritingdixonx · 7 months

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Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.

Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt. He just wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. “The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

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A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

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