#daryl x wife!reader

[celtic-crossbow]

Hi there! I really * love * your writing and would like to request a Daryl x fem!reader story.

Set in 10x11, reader takes care of Daryl after he returns from his fight with Alpha. The reader treats the wounds (leg, face, bruises). They also might talk about Carol's odd behavior and are worried about her.

Then it's about getting ready to fight the herd and the Whisperers, not knowing if they'll survive the night. They probably also have a daughter and they're worried about her, Judith' and RJ's safety.

There could be fluff, a spark of hope or even smut (carefully because of his injuries, of course) or anything like that.

I would love to read that 😊 xx

I am the Mess You Chose

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Hilltop (Whisperers Era)

Warnings: Injuries; Medical treatment

A/N: I really tried with this, Anon. I hope I did okay. I think it went more angsty than I had intended. Still, I hope you enjoy. I also really love Daryl giving the reader the nickname Pip, short for pipsqueak. It just resonates with me, so I hope my little bit of self indulgence is okay.

You were speaking with Luke and Yumiko when you heard the familiar rumble of Daryl’s bike, turning toward the gate with Aspen on your hip. Her cries of dada dada dada accompanied the clapping of her little hands while your husband rode through with Lydia on the back of the bike. You could instantly see that something wasn’t right. 

“Any sign of them?” Yumiko reached them first, not waiting until the motorcycle had even been shut off. Daryl was looking down, avoiding the light.

“We didn’t get that far.” He grumbled while Lydia dismounted. Kelly stepped forward next, looking concerned but whether it was for Daryl or who he didn’t bring back, you couldn’t be sure. You were handing Aspen off to Jerry with a quick please watch her before you moved past everyone. Daryl was struggling to get off the bike, grunting and instantly keeping the weight off his left leg. “We gotta talk.”

“Not you.” You interjected, dragging his arm over your shoulders. “Lydia, can you handle the details?” The girl nodded. You gave Jerry another glance and received a nod before he had little Aspen waving at you and Daryl, who put on a brave face for his daughter until you were out of sight. He made a noise in the back of his throat the moment the two of you stepped across the threshold, both legs nearly buckling beneath him. “I gotcha. Downstairs bedroom, just a little further.” You shook your head at someone who appeared to be close to addressing Daryl and jerked your chin toward the front door in a silent request for them to shut it. “Can you open the bedroom door, Daryl?”

“Yeah.” He rasped, fumbling for the knob before finally grasping it and shoving the door open. It was a bit of a challenge but you eventually got him to the bed and let him sink down on the edge of the mattress. “Hey, Pip.” He offered you the smallest of smiles looking up at you, your fingers brushing his hair away from the substantial laceration above his eye.

“Don’t hey, Pip me, Daryl Dixon! What happened?” You admonished, continuing your assessment and finding more injuries on his torso but his leg, that was where your worry spiked. His pants were stuff with dried blood, the bandages lined at the top with a tightly bound piece of fabric. A tourniquet, you surmised. 

“Found Alpha. Tried to find out where they were.” He leaned back on his hands, his upper body swaying.

“I see how well that conversation went.” You deadpanned.

He responded at first with a hum. “Lydia found me. S’half dead. She dragged my sorry ass outta there, patched me up good ‘nough to get back.” Daryl jolted, the bandages sticking to his skin as you unwound them from the wound. You’d need to grab some antibiotics for sure. Knife wound, deep. The bleeding had all but stopped thanks to the tourniquet, but you felt sick at the thought of how easily the femoral artery could have been nicked. How quickly he would have bled out. “Was gonna leave it.”

“What?” You looked up to find him watching you. He nodded toward his leg.

“Alpha’s knife. Was gonna leave it. Knew better’an to pull it out, but she followed me. Drew in three walkers. Had to use it.” You stared at him levelly, not relenting when he reached to trace a finger down your jaw. “S’good to see your face, Pip. An' baby girl’s. For a minute there—for a minute, I thought I wasn’t comin’ back.” 

“Remind me to thank Lydia after I throttle the hell out of you for going alone.” You stepped out of the room for the suture kit, more antiseptic and bandages. “How long has this been on?” You motioned toward the tourniquet with the suture kit.

“Few hours.”

Slamming the kit onto the mattress, your head followed it with a groan. “I’ll have to do an IV, Daryl. We need to do a bolus of fluids to flush out the toxins building up where the blood isn’t flowing.” You weren’t mad, not really. You were redirecting your fear into something that wouldn’t have you a trembling mess while trying to stitch up your husband’s damn near fatal wound.

“M’sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m—” You sighed and knelt next to his leg to clean the wound thoroughly. “I’m just glad you’re here. Safe. And in one piece.” You tilted your head. “More or less.” It always hurt your heart to tend to his injuries, not just knowing the wound itself was painful, but knowing it would just add to the collection of scars he had accumulated throughout his life. He didn’t seem so bothered by them anymore but that didn’t mean you enjoyed watching him gather them like tattoos. 

The two of you were quiet as you stitched, not a single word until you tied off the last one and clipped the remaining thread. You placed the used materials in the wastebasket and stepped out of the room, jogging down to the medical unit for IV supplies, antibiotics, and fluids. People were moving about hastily but you’d find out why later. You had to take care of your husband first. Arms full, you detoured to find Jerry. He was on the ground with Aspen, her little arms flailing around as she stood in front of him, telling the world’s tallest tale. The man caught your eye and nodded. You mouthed a thank you and continued back to the house. There must have been something he was needed for, but you were keeping him from it. 

Daryl was lying down when you returned, an arm thrown across his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping, the rhythmic tapping of each finger against his thumb a tell tale sign that he was anxious. You needed to find out what was going on, why everyone was bustling about in waves, though you had an inkling. You were just hoping to be wrong.

Clearing your throat, you entered the room. “You really pulled a Carol yesterday, you know.”

“That ain’t funny.” He huffed, lifting his arm slightly. He looked so exhausted and pale. 

“It wasn’t intended to be, love.” He just happened to be shielding his eyes with the arm you needed, but didn’t fight you when you pulled it down to lie straight at his side and rolled up the sleeve. Placing the rubber tourniquet above his elbow, you started palpating for a vein, glancing up at him every few seconds. “She’s not doing so hot, is she?”

“Nah. She ain't.” He replied quietly. He didn’t flinch when you slid the needle in, getting a good return before removing the tourniquet and popping the needle back to leave the catheter behind. “Worried ‘bout her.”

“I know.” You straightened the tubing and connected it to the bags you hung on the headboard, open the line to start the flow of fluids and antibiotics. “I’m gonna take the tourniquet from your leg. It’s not gonna feel great.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Done this dance a million times, Pip.” 

You nodded and circled the bed, grabbing the scissors from the medical kit on your journey. You positioned the blades before glancing up at your husband. He was staring at the ceiling, but you knew where his head was.

“Are you angry with her?” Snip. Daryl grunted and clenched his fists, the circulation returning in a painful spiral throughout the injured limb.

“Yeah. Yeah, m’fuckin’ angry with her.” He snapped quietly, nostrils flaring. “Keeps takin’ off half-cocked, gettin’ herself hurt, gettin’ other people—” His mouth snapped shut into a thin line, his left arm coming up to cover his eyes that time. 

“Connie.” You supplied. You knew Daryl had taken a liking to the woman. She radiated confidence and positivity and just life. Your husband had grabbed onto that with both hands and held fast, pulling her into your little family. You both adored her. You didn’t blame Carol per se, but she did hold some of the responsibility for Connie’s—disappearance. “Daryl.”

“What?” He huffed, his irritation not directed at you. You knew him better than that.

“What if it were Aspen?” He jerked his arm away from his eyes so quickly that you flinched, knowing he was about to yell at you for even suggesting such a thing. “Stop. It’s a horrible thought, I know. But take how just that thought makes you feel and multiply it by infinity, my love. That is where Carol’s heart is right now and her head can’t even try to keep up with it.”

“That ain’t—she just—” His chin was wobbling, an inner war raging behind his stormy blue eyes.

Grabbing some butterfly stitches, gauze, and alcohol, you crawled onto the mattress and sat cross-legged by his shoulder. When you began to dab at the wound on his forehead, his face fell and his defeated gaze found your steady one. 

“I’m not saying she’s right, love. I’m just saying maybe she’s not wrong either.” You said nothing else until you had closed the wound with the strips and leaned forward to place a kiss between his eyes. “You two will get through this. You always find a way.” With a sniff and a deep breath, Daryl nodded. You were unbuttoning his shirt to tend to the other wounds when you yourself inhaled deeply, eyes flashing up to your husband’s face. “I need you to tell me what’s happening out there.”

“Be here by nightfall. Still gives us a bit to get ready.”

You stood at Daryl’s side against the upstairs bannister while everyone below scurried about with weapons and supplies. 

“You’re sure all the roads are blocked?” You tapped your fingers against the wood nervously.

“You were on one of them roads yourself, Pip. Ya saw it. They got ‘em all.” The archer’s bandaged hand covered yours to still your anxious movements. “Listen, I wantcha with the kids.” Your eyes were already watching your daughter on the carpet downstairs with Judith and RJ, but your attention snapped toward him before he could finish speaking.

“No.”

“Ain’t a request. Wantcha to—”

“No, Daryl.” You snapped, pulling your hand away. “This bitch has taken from all of us. I’m gonna be right beside you, on the frontlines.”

“Nah, need ya to stay away from this. Need to know that Aspen’s with ‘er mama, that Jude an’ RJ have ya there to protect 'em.” You were shaking your head with every word, but he didn’t stop. “Can’t fight out there not knowin’ my family’s safe as they can get.”

“And I can’t sit in here knowing my husband is out there fighting without me.” You gestured to the whole of him. “Fighting when he’s already beaten all to hell!” “Just do this for me, Pip. Take care’a our kids. If somethin’ happens to me, baby girl, Jude, an’ RJ’re gonna need ya.” Daryl brushed your hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek. Your eyes were wet with frustration and hopelessness and worry and grief. 

“Goddamn you, Daryl Dixon.” Your head fell forward against his chest, sniffling until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you there while you pulled yourself together. He was right, and you knew it. Your daughter couldn’t lose both of her parents to that monster. Jude and RJ couldn’t lose what family they had left. “Alright. I’ll stay back with the kids.” Daryl kissed your forehead.

“M’gonna talk to Zeke. If one’a us goes down, the other’ll come for you an’ the kids, okay?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Y/N, I’m just—”

“No, don’t talk like you’re not coming back to me.” You didn’t let him speak again before your mouth was on his, your hands in his hair while his squeezed your waist. “You are coming back to me.” You were walking him backwards toward one of the empty rooms, careful of his injury and accommodating his limp. 

“M’comin’ back.” He spoke quietly against your mouth, letting you unbutton his shirt before he could even manage to start shutting the door. “Always will.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #anon request #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #hurt!daryl #daryl x wife!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

✎ masterlist ✎

this is a collection of all my one shots. more will be added as i continue to write. requests are closed!

[ key: ]

🌷 ≈ fluff

🍑 ≈ smut

🌪️ ≈ angst

💻 ≈ wip

•finnick odair•

— the five stages » 🌪️

— hungry eyes » 🍑

— love(rs) and war » 🍑

— what friends do » 🍑🌷

— lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! » 🌷

— beautiful mess » 🌷🌪️

— two souls, one heart » 🌪️

— nsfw alphabet » 🍑

— flower therapy » 🌪️🌷

— bad idea, right? » 🍑🌪️

— red wine: part 1, part 2, part 3 »🌷🌪️

— forbidden fruit » 🍑

— a darling and a virgin » 🌪️🍑

•bellamy blake•

— close call » 🍑

— bioluminescence » 🌷

— pretty fixation, wicked temptation » 🍑

•gally (the maze runner)•

— relationship headcanons pt. two » 🌷

— relationship headcanons » 🌷🌪️🍑

• (more characters to be added)•

#wife of all dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #gally maze runner #gally x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #void stiles #void stiles x reader #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #stiles stilinkski #stiles stilinski x reader

[barnes1031]

Me when I find the most Damn beautiful fanfiction written in the story and Tumblr automatically returns to the main page. Now I have to search for it by tags why didn't I give it a like.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #beef!bucky barnes #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes x latina!reader #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x ex wife reader #matt murdock x you #daryl x y/n #daredevil x you #negan x you #negan x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #rick grimes x you

[littlegodzilla]

Our Story Masterlist.

On going.

Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Chapters: 17/?

Words:

Warnings: Angst. Death. Slow Burn. Love. Fluff. Teen's love. Mention of drugs. Mention of abuses. TWD Gore. Smut (maybe).

Summary: Daryl met her with eight years old and he fell in love with her, you, her sister, became his best friend. The three of you became a team.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #mine #smut #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #daryl x her #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl x fem reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x wife #angst #drama #love #slow burn #death #twd gore #drugs #mention of abuse #the walking dead

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Still beating

What - dealing with grief as the dust finally starts to settle. Dealing with grief regarding one specific character's death in particular. You know the one.

Genre - heavier, but we get devoted husband/father Daryl out of the mix. And we don't end the chapter on a bummer, never fear. This ain't a French movie, slowpokes

Relationships - wife Reader and husband Daryl as well as your baby. Familial affection with Rick, and that balance between friend and clergy for Father Gabriel.

Perspective - 3rd POV Daryl, and 2nd POV You

Pronouns - she/her

When - time jump! we've briefly hopped to post season 8, pre season 9 (but before The best kind of damn weird). This chapter takes place during the earlier phases of recovery and rebuilding after the war. The previous chapter, Scary as a sleepy kitten, took place during season 2.

TWs - grief, PTSD (including after SA), depression, self-loathing, and some cussing. This chapter is also kinda lengthy, friends, and had to have exposition. (Might should've sliced the chapter in half, but then we'd have another two-parter on our hands :P)

But how long though? - ...20 minutes or so?

Story references and Masterlist link? - under the cut

And is there a pic at the end as a prize for finishing? - yes :D

Have fun and happy reading!

References to other chapters - what we learned in The Interview. There is also grieving/anger as seen in The first Christmas 'without' Part 2 and its conclusion in I don't hate you, a happy reference to Happy 8th of July!, reference to those lovely tugging strings as found in Invisible Tugging Strings, Part 1 and Part 2 (Part 2 I reckon is still glitched and showing as labeled mature, the poor thing's been cleared about 7ish times via help ticket XD ).

There are a lot more details you might recognize, pop on by to the Official Masterlist here, or for those who prefer linear over non-linear, the Chronological Slowpoke Masterlist here

-----------------------

Still beating

She was doing real bad. The past few days had been especially bad. Grief has nasty ways of settling in and rearing its ugly head.

He didn’t know too much about what to do to help her, he’d never been good at that stuff. And there was no fixing all that happened, especially not when the last thing that happened was the worst thing that could’ve.

Other than if TJ or Judith died, it was the worst thing. And part of his wife died right alongside Carl.

Hell, she’d been the one to wait after Carl died, then turned, to pull the trigger.

Now, she felt dead, too.

Gabe had to suggest that she check her pulse when it got bad enough.

Just then, TJ started to wriggle and hum in an attempt to root at Daryl's bicep, which pulled him out of his worry for a second.

Gently, he began to bounce to try and keep his baby lulled. He knows Y/N wanted to breastfeed only to get her production up (and so TJ’s suckle could get stronger after the surgery), but Y/N was finally asleep.

Beginning with when Denise was killed, Y/N hadn’t been making as much as she first had. Then, the Saviors stopped the RV and surrounded them, and Negan did what he did. Then Daryl himself got taken away, then there was all the fighting.

And then Carl died.

Getting her milk to come back had been proving damned hard.

A handful of not-very-good times, they’d supplemented what milk she did make with watered-down formula and/or watered-down goat's milk.

One very bad time, they’d used sugar water to fill the babies’ bellies until Jesus got back with goat's milk. Just the one time they had to use sugar water, everybody made damn sure of that.

For now, Daryl could crack into what was still left of the goat's milk in the cooler, right? The two women in the Kingdom who had little guys had sent over actual breast milk with Carol a few days ago, but it was used up yesterday. That stuff had been a God-send, he couldn’t thank the ladies enough.

Between the two babies in Alexandria, TJ and Gracie, everyone had to be smart about using what formula was left. And given that the power got cut, keeping the goat's milk fresh was another problem, hence the cooler.

There was still a shit ton of clean-up had since the Saviors nabbed Alexandria’s storage, then firebombed the town. To make things worse, those assholes had their own compound destroyed, and Hilltop and the Kingdom got screwed, too. Even the beach women took another beating. Hell, and them junkyard people were literally all fucking gone except their leader chick.

So, Y/N breastfed the two babies as much she was physically able because there was no other option right now, all while working as the only other doc left standing in all five communities; she was running herself into the ground.

And with Carl gone…

It ain’t fair that she couldn’t make enough — it was Negan’s goddamned fault.

Which leads to what just went on: so Mich had told him, Y/N’d lashed out at Negan and the new doctor kid with the facial hair, what was his name, Sidney?

Daryl hadn’t been at the infirmary when it happened, but, according to Mich, she’d had to pull her out of the room. Once out, Y/N asked her about TJ, Judith, and Gracie to make sure they were safe, then disappeared after Mich had turned around. Straight up and bolted.

Daryl had checked the escape-closet first, but she wasn’t in there or the attic it connected to, wasn't on the roof that lead to.

He’d then checked the burned church. She’d been there, he recognized her boot prints, but she'd moved on. From there, he was able to follow her sooty tracks in the direction of the place he should’ve known to check first.

Sure enough, Y/N'd been at Carl’s grave.

His wife could barely look at him when he approached. He'd simply kissed her on the head and quietly walked her back home. Once home, he'd cleaned and bandaged her hand while she, again, tried to pump enough for TJ and Gracie.

Mich had told Daryl she’d get Rick for her, so he’d be here soon.

Daryl wracked his brain, he even prayed to learn what do to try to help carry Y/N through this shit.

At first, Y/N’d been pacing around the room, crying but trying not to, arms wrapped around her picture frame with a photo of Carl in it as if it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He'd been able to persuade her to lay down, and ended up laying in bed with her and holding her tight, TJ next to them in little bassinet.

Initially, him holding her and pressing kisses to her neck had made her feel worse. More guilty, that is. A handful of days ago, something got into her head that she needed to give him a damn "annulment."

Nah, for real, she’d even said (to Gabe) that the two of them not having ever done the deed yet was "grounds" to give him one. “Grounds to free him,” were her exact words. It was a whole thing, and the couple of failed attempts at trying to do the deed after getting hitched some months back probably made her feel worse.

Father Gabriel had Daryl's back the whole time during the conversation, though, decent dude.

And no, Daryl wasn’t angry or even real hurt that she’d thought she had to ‘free him’ and shit, he knows it was the grief and physical exhaustion that got her to that point. His woman had full-on blacked out and hurt herself that day, which is why he'd brought her to Gabe in the first place.

But the, um, the walls were thinner than Daryl had expected, which is how he overheard from the person that he was gonna love and stay with and stay faithful to until he dropped dead softly confess that she was “selfish” to keep him “stuck” with a “batshit m-mess” like her and “a baby that ain’t his.”

The fact that Y/N kept maintaining how much she loved him and how she didn’t want no annulment helped it hurt less when she’d sounded just about convinced that it was “loyalty to me ’cause we’re close, loyalty to Rick,” and because of “he’s got so much shame. He feels responsible for what the Claimers did,” that made him marry her those months ago. "He loves our ch—my child, and might love me, but it's not fair to him. He deserves better, h-he needs better, the man's been trapped all his life. I-I don't want him trapped, I want him happy!"

Gabe never played into her fears. He been no nonsense about all of it, told Y/N that she needed a damn rest, and asked her to tell him what she thought about it when she woke up.

The good thing was that after a 5 hour period of uninterrupted sleep (during which they used some of the goat's milk for TJ and Gracie), she woke up in a daze at why she’d thought an annulment was something Daryl needed or wanted.

The bad thing was, she was then socked in the gut with more unearned guilt for it, then with worry that she was too far gone, or crazy, all that.

Been a bad, bad few days.

Been a lot of Daryl showing her love that she felt not worth being shown. So that she fell asleep in his arms today was such a damn win!

After getting up to take a leak and finding that Y/N was miraculously still asleep, he thanked whoever was up there, then tried to figure out what else he could do to help her get through today…and right at that moment, TJ started to rouse, so he got his answer: keep their baby comforted. More shut-eye could only do his woman well.

Deftly lifting the little bundle into his arms, he'd kissed the scar above the baby’s upper lip and tiptoed out to the hall, where he was now.

Lightly he bounced, softly he shushed. He held TJ like a football and moved back and forth, back and forth. Babies smell so damn good, and make the cutest damn noises!

After a couple minutes, through the open door, he peeked at his Y/N.

Shit. She was already sitting up and blinking off the sleep.

Whatever it was she did and said today, she felt low as hell about it, that much was clear. Without looking, she grabbed the now-broken picture frame and clutched it to her middle.

"You're supposed to be asleep, slowpoke," he tried to tease.

Her clothes had ashes from where it looked like she’d knelt down then sat down in the burned church. There was some dirt on them, too, from when she’d been at Carl’s grave. Daryl made a note to shake the sheets out later and pick the tissues up off the floor.

That's when the front door opened downstairs.

Was that Ri—good, that was Rick’s voice, he was finally there. There was a second voice, too, was that Father Gabriel’s? It was soft like Gabe's voice was.

Daryl looked downstairs.

Yup, it was Rick with the rev.

He waved them upstairs, but it must’ve been the clunking of the Gabriel’s new cane that got Y/N stumbling out of the room.

“Rev! I would’ve come to you, y-you need to be takin’ it easy.” She hugged the picture frame in one hand, gripped the banister in the other and started to go downstairs, asking Gabe how he felt, urging him to sit down, had his vision worsened, all that stuff.

“Y/N, more rest won’t stop me from losing sight in this eye,” Gabriel responded in his quiet way, remaining on the second step, not going up or down the stairs. He smiled. “You could say I’m the one making a house call to a patient this time."

She held back a sob and bowed her head. Then, she subtly slipped two fingers around the inside of her wrist…

Rick stepped the rest of the way up the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders. “What's going on, weirdo?”

“Ricky, I'm s-sorry."

He leaned closer and took her in for a hug. “Heart still beating?” he murmured.

Her inhale was shaky. “Mmhm. Yours?”

“Beating strong.”

TJ perked up and began to whimper upon hearing her voice. Y/N unzipped her hoodie to—she still had a gun on her?

Okay, that'd been stealth as fuck, it hadn't even been printing. He'd been literally holding her, how had he not noticed?

Daryl shared a glance with Gabe. Minus her screwdriver, she'd turned in her weapons after what happened the other day.

Y/N handed the small gun to Rick, who looked wary, but accepted it without question. She hesitated before reaching into her boot to hand over her screwdriver, too.

Daryl slid his hand around his wife’s waist to guide her back to the room. Without looking him in the eyes, she cupped his cheek and told him he was a good father. Then, frame still gripped under one arm, she took the baby into the other.

“Let’s try havin’ a snack before I go with Uncle Ricky awhile, okay, chickpea?” she murmured, then unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

Daryl took off his vest to give her some more coverage. When he draped the vest around her, she turned her head to kiss his hand. He felt his cheeks warm when she did that.

Walking into the room again, she softly told Daryl that he and Rick could sit on the beds. First, she placed the picture frame on one of the mattresses. Next, she took TJ and went beside the end table at the window to sit down on the floor beside it. The way she sat, it was kinda as if she were using it as a shield.

“Rev, please take the chair,” she mumbled to Gabriel with a glance at the only piece of furniture in the room at the time, other than the bassinet, a nightstand, and the end table. Negan had specifically left the rocking chair as a 'gift' for her. The piece of shit...

Anyway, Daryl had got them their two twin mattresses back (hey, squish them together and you get a big-ass bed) the first trip to and from the Savior’s compound after the war ended, once the Alexandrians had begun to move back from the Hilltop. Only, no bed frames yet.

“And sweetheart, I’ll-I’ll take the pumps with me for while I’m in there. Wanna make sure you and Aaron have enough for them,” she said to him, voice still raw. Y/N turned to him and gave him a wobbly smile. “Sorry I used up so much of the tissue supply,” she tried making light, but got close to tears again, so stumbled through asking “Can I, um, Rick, m-might can I bring my pillow? Is that okay?”

Go with Rick where, and take the breast pumps and her pillow, why? He made eye contact with Gabriel, who looked just as puzzled. So, he turned to Rick.

Rick lowered his eyebrows as if he didn’t know what she meant, either. He squatted to sit down on the mattress beside Daryl, and looked at his sister. “Y/N, where are we headed?”

Glancing up from the baby to him then to Daryl, she adjusted TJ’s position on her breast while she figured out how to answer, by the looks of it. Another glance at her husband as if she were worried about his reaction...

“Rick, I thought you was here to…escort me?”

?

Daryl had no clear idea what she meant, it was the rev who understood first.

“No,” Father Gabriel told her gently. “Y/N, you aren’t under arrest.”

Under arrest? Daryl fought between the urge to get angry or dead-ass laugh. 'Under arrest??'

It was for real, though. His wife’s tears started flowing again as she turned her attention to Rick and began to stress, “There can’t be no special treatment—”

“—Is this why you handed me your weapons? Why would you be under arrest?” Rick cut her off to question.

She stared as if he’d grown antlers. “I s-struck a patient, and, and—”

“—And I slit his throat open, which is why that 'patient' is in there in the first place,” he cut her off again, firm.

Thankfully, TJ let out a wail the same time mama wailed, “Ricky, y-you weren’t his medic!” pausing any further arguing.

Y/N gulped, pressed down on one breast, then the other. “I know there’s not much in ’em, Teddy-bear, but it-it’ll get better. It’ll come back,” she shushed, lifting him up and tucking herself back in. With a few kisses, she shushed, “You’ve gotten so much faster at drinking, babycakes”

Daryl got on the floor with her and took TJ back.

She avoided eye-contact again, and her lip wobbled again as she pulled the top of her shirt higher. That told him there’d been not much milk in there. And he could see all over her face that it was switching her on the legs with more false-ass, unearned guilt.

The familiar string in his chest suddenly tugged in her direction—next thing, he was resting his forehead on hers. “Hey. You’re makin’ more every day, angel,” he whispered in her ear. "And you're a damn good ma."

The way her expression softened and her body relaxed toward his felt better than fireworks going off on the Fourth 8th of July.

And as if he were back in that Georgia-in-July heat, Daryl just about melted right there on the floor when he saw his TJ, neck lifted high, making a face-scrunching, gummy smile at him. "Look how strong your neck is getting, ’lil badass, you’re rockin’ it!”

Shit, their kid was the best damn thing.

Y/N leaned against him and reached to lightly fluff their baby’s hair and rub their baby's teeny feet.

Gabriel sat in the rocking chair quietly, hands resting on his cane. He caught eyes with Daryl and nodded his head toward Y/N, glad to see her no longer convinced she needed to ‘free’ her husband.

Absorbed in the photo, Rick exhaled, then spoke up. “Y/N, how about we start from the beginning? What happened at the infirmary?”

She pressed tighter against Daryl as a pained noise left her throat. “Did you talk to Siddiq yet?” sounded very small.

“I want to talk to both of you.”

“And Michonne?”

He nodded. “She told me some.”

The big watch she’d kept from Dale tick-tick-ticked on her wrist. Then came the sound of light metallic clinking. Daryl didn’t have to look to see that she must’ve pulled out her brother’s necklace and was tugging on it.

“What I did ain’t excusable,” came out raspy and thick.

“It is," Rick answered.

“It’s not, especially not what I said to Sid—” a sob choked her response. She used Daryl's leather vest to hide her face before hugging it around herself like a blanket.

“Walk me through what happened first, kiddo, before you hit Negan with this?” Rick subtly gestured to the broken picture frame.

So she had smacked Negan in the face? Hot damn, Daryl was more in love with her already.

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “They’d been lookin’ at it, the both of 'em.”

“At the picture?”

A tiny nod. “I’d left the room, and when I got back, they was looking at it. Siddiq brought it over to him. Tried to make like Negan was sad, too. Fuck that!”

TJ started rooting on his bicep again, but Daryl was on it. “Sorry, pipsqueak, I don’t got the right parts for that.” He started to massage the baby’s belly, and TJ quieted.

“It’s okay to let ’em cry a little, it-it helps restock these,” his wife tried joking, nodding down at her chest.

“Y/N.” Rick was delicate about coaxing her for more details. “You got back into the room, Siddiq and Negan were looking at the picture.”

“Negan’s filthy hands were on it,” she grit. "Lookin' at Carl and me, you with Shaney." The sounds of the pendant being pulled across the chain filled the room along with TJ’s soft cooing.

“Is that when you hit him with the frame?” Rick asked.

“No. I told him not to look at it again or touch it, and if he did, I’d hurt him.”

“Angel, slow your breathin’,” Daryl interjected at the same time that he figured out why those words sounded familiar: it was similar to how she'd warned the last Claimer fuckhead, the one who’d had Carl pinned down and was gon——Daryl shut down this brain for a sec, it was best not to think about that night.

He turned his head to see Rick, red-eyed, tracing his thumb along the photo of Carl, Y/N, Shane and him. Seems as if Rick had recognized her words, too.

“And when was it that you did hurt him?” Rick pressed on.

Y/N swallowed. “About half a minute later when he tried to act like it wasn’t his fault.”

Rick’s composure staggered and collapsed. His voice was hoarse when he managed to say, “It’s not his fault.”

But Y/N was fast to shut it down. “Don’t for one more second make like it’s yours, Ricky, you get that monkey off your back,” she comforted and somehow scolded both at once. “Negan was doing what Negan does when he, when he told you that. It was manipulation, nothin’ real. How C-Carl—” another choked-down sob, more tears.

Daryl noticed her press her fingertips to the spot under her chin, beside her jaw, checking her pulse to prove it was still beating.

“Negan had nothing to do with how Carl got bit,” Rick whispered. “You know it’s true, kiddo.”

“No—our boy wouldna ended up out there, w-with-with Siddiq, if it hadn’t been for Negan.” Her tone got louder and angry, her stress stutter became more noticeable, the way she tugged the necklace turned rougher. “He and his followers was why we weren’t able to trust no n-newcomers like Sid, which is why Sid was still out there alone, and, and, and why Carl went to him! It, it was because of Negan and his, and his, his-his cult!”

TJ seemed freaked out by the louder voice, the baby’s dark, blue-black eyes grown big.

Daryl spoke Y/N’s name to try and bring her back to herself, but she seemed to have very suddenly calmed.

She was blinking at her hand.

Daryl looked, and then saw the two halves of her brother Shane’s chain, broken.

“How many times did Carol warn me that this would happen when I tugged it,” she muttered to herself. "Good thing I didn't decide to tug on the rosary, huh?"

Inhaling, she leaned her head against the wall behind her, staring into space, fingers to her wrist to check her pulse again.

From beside her, he covered her hand in his. Then, pressing his lips to her fist, Daryl took the necklace from it. He could fix it.

“I lost my temper again, I’m sorry,” she spoke to all in the room, her hand cupping Daryl's cheek a moment. Then, more quietly, she looked at Rick. “How many days’ll I be in there?”

Which sent Daryl straight back to disbelief he was hearing those words, what absolute bullshit. “Y/N, you ain’t going nowhere.”

“You’re not going to a cell, Y/N,” Rick echoed.

“No special treatment,” she softly repeated. “If I were anybody else—”

Rick interrupted her “—It’s not about who you are.”

Father Gabriel had gotten up and was making his way to Y/N by then.

Y/N shook her head at the conversation, tired. “If I were anybody else or had any other orle, and if he were anybody else,” she caught her breath, “there’d be reper-re-rep—” a few more tries, and she had to choose a different word, “consequences. Assault and battery on an un-unarmed person—a patient—from their medical provider, that’s serious.” Her hand was back to covering her face. She sat pressed against the wall, knees at her chest.

“You and Siddiq are the only doctors left. We couldn’t just put you in a cell even if you had earned it.”

“I ain't a doctor, at best, I’m a medic,” she grunted. “And I did earn it, just ask him and Michonne. As for my,” she made a shaky inhale, “my duties, I can be escorted out.”

“And TJ? Gracie?” Daryl put out there, hoping to guilt her out of insisting she get jail time, like, what the fuck. What kind of conversation was this?

Screw this, he couldn't even sit. He stood, shaking his head and pacing around the room, still holding TJ.

The expression on Y/N's face should’ve been enough to calm him down, along the defeated, quiet way she reasoned, “I’ll pump and y’all will visit. It’s—no, sweetheart—it’s only for a few days,” when he started to dead-ass leave. As if her being in there ‘only for a few days’ would help this bullshit make sense.

But that’s when he ended up snapping, “This is goddamn bullshit! You bopped a sick fuck on the nose with a picture frame, who the fuck will care? Rick, why you even entertainin' this shit?” and he regretted doing so as soon as he barked it out.

The old, invisible knee rammed him in the nards harder when Rick cautioned, "Brother," and Gabe finally opened his mouth, and louder than Daryl had ever heard him speak. “She cares, Daryl. So do I.”

And to make it all worse, their baby had given a start in fear when he’d shouted, and now the poor kid was screaming—and TJ doesn’t scream, shit, shit, he blew up while holding his child?

“M’sorry! M’sorry," he hushed to his baby, "I love you so much, kid, I’m so sorry I scared ya. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” With a kiss on TJ’s wild head of hair, he murmured, “Pipsqueak, your old man is an idiot.”

Y/N rushed over when TJ screamed, but she didn’t take the baby away from Daryl. Instead, she caressed her husband’s forearm and the tricep and spoke to their child. “Your daddy’s got you safe,” she soothed.

He knew she was trying to look him in the eyes, but he couldn’t return it. He’d just scared an infant because he couldn’t check his temper. Their infant.

His wife’s quiet assurance cut through the rushing in his head. “Daryl? TJ ain’t hurt, sugar, and you’re not a bad father. Do some skin to skin, okay?” She pecked a kiss on his cheek. “And that's a dollar for cussing, pay up later.”

She then sat back down on the floor next to where the rev had made his new seat. Daryl took the now-empty rocking chair, unbuttoned his and TJ’s shirts, then nestled the kid on his chest.

Y/N then told the room the rest of what happened, how after Negan croaked out with what voice he had left, saying it 'wasn’t his fault Carl was dead', that she’d turned around and whacked him across the face with the frame.

Siddiq had reacted by grabbing her shoulders from behind to pull her away from Negan — so she had shoved back and kneed him in the dick plus rammed her head against his, dropping the frame in the process. The frame broke as a result—and when it broke, she'd lost her cool, said some shit, and threw some shit. Mich heard the hubbub and intervened, then Y/N hid herself away cause she 'knew' she was 'gone crazy.'

As far as Daryl was concerned, the new doc was lucky all he got was a shove, a knee to jewels, a clunk on the head, and some words and maybe a clipboard thrown at him, because Y/N could fight damned well. She'd had it drilled into her how and when to do it. Freely taught others moves, too.

When she’d showed Carol some techniques, way back, it was one of the things that sent him falling for her.

And…Y/N might’ve not said it out loud, but when she described how Siddiq grabbed her from behind to pull her away, everyone in that room got why it caused her to react strong.

What she described herself as doing would’ve been instinct.

Siddiq wouldn’t know why. Negan might, the fucker had watched the tape of her Deanna interview.

“See?” Y/N blew her nose again, sniffed, and stared at the floorboards. “It’s not right to Sid or the community to, to have what I did go unchecked. And what I said to Siddiq was so cruel. What’s worse is I meant it. Fuck, I still do.”

What she'd said was basically that she wished he’d gotten bit instead of Carl, and that it was just as much Siddiq's fault that the boy was dead as it was Negan’s. That 'he should be dead.'

She grimaced, then caressed the watch on her wrist. Must’ve been thinking of Dale. “Ain’t fair to…Negan, neither. If there’s anything Carl taught us, it’s that,” she whispered.

Rick lifted the frame to kiss his son’s picture, wiped a couple tears away. “When I talked with Sid, he was…alarmed. Worried. He thought it was off-character.”

Y/N went rigid where she sat. “Siddiq wasn’t there two years ago.”

Daryl lifted the baby higher on his chest and snuggled closer.

Rick shook his head. “You wishing someone dead, or, dead instead of another, is very off-character, it’s not you. No—don’t shake your head, Y/N.” Her brother maintained, “Even back then, after what happened, you didn’t wish me dead. You wished that Shane was still alive, not that I was dead instead. Even if you did say those things, it wouldn't have been the truth, just the hurt speaking.”

“I attacked you and told you I would kill you. And I-I meant it at the time, you know that.”

“And for a couple days, you left, because you didn’t actually want that. You knew it was wrong.”

“Which is why I need to get put away for a couple days. I decided to hurt a patient and his doctor, my own fr—” She wasn’t able to say what was probably the word ‘friend.’ Y/N bit her lip, and continued, “Then hurled words at him what nobody should get hurled at them.” She swallowed a cuss and grabbed another tissue.

“You’re exhausted, Siddiq knows that.” Rick pointed out. “We’re not ourselves when we’re—”

Y/N wasn’t having it. Probably too exhausted, to tell the truth.

“We’re all exhausted. C’mon, man, you just lost your son!” A sob left her and she tried to breathe through her nose. Checked her pulse again.

“You were also reacting to how he yanked you back, kiddo. That's not nothing.”

Daryl gave Rick a warning glance.

Rick saw, nodded, and held up a hand, which made Y/N turn to see what Daryl was doing. But Daryl simply kissed TJ on the head, not saying nothing.

She wasn’t fooled. When Y/N looked back at Rick after giving her husband a look of it’s okay, Daryl gave Rick another warning glare, then a nod.

“You didn’t react like that without reason, Y/N. There’s no shame to admit it was a trigger.”

She grumbled at the word. “Trauma ain’t an excuse to traumatize others.” After exhaling, she ran her hands over her face and took a moment. Hardly louder than a whisper, she challenged, “Ricky, not all my problems stem from the rapes. I’ve always been too hot-headed.”

At that moment, Daryl wanted to scoop her and TJ up and drive them away from everything, keep the two of them safe and unbothered for a month or two or four.

“Getting grabbed like that m-might, y’know, might could’ve reminded me of it—when they—" She ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, it did get me going. But, I,” she paused. “It wasn’t that I saw red or blacked out, I chose to keep goin’ once I’d started. I threw stuff because I was raging, I didn't want to stop because I thought he deserved it.”

Y/N fiddled with Dale’s watch, and turned to Father Gabriel beside her and almost smiled at him, close to the way she used to smile at Glenn, as if he were in on a joke. “Here I’d hoped I was re-domesticated by now.”

“Let us give thanks that you’re still housebroken,” he responded, taking Daryl by surprise. "You're...still housebroken, are you not?"

The way Y/N then cracked up and grinned woke up the butterflies in his stomach.

“Y/N, you’ve come miles since I first met you,” Gabriel told her softly, smiling back.

“All the way from Georgia,” she joked back, then grew more serious. “You’ve grown a whole lot, too.” She wiped her eyes, and Gabe closed his.

“And Y/N,” he shook his head. “You aren’t losing your humanity. I know you’re frightened of that, after what you told me happened to your other brother.”

It hadn’t even registered in Daryl’s mind that Shane’s memory would be scaring her. She loved her brother like hell, but she was always terrified of going down the same path he did.

He looked to Rick to see what his reaction was. His reaction was tear-rimmed eyes and a nod of his head toward TJ, silently asking if he could hold the baby awhile. Daryl nodded, Rick stood, and returned Y/N the frame as he walked by to pick up the little one.

Hands empty, Daryl took out his army knife and the broken chain from his pocket so he could fix his woman’s necklace. Wasn’t gonna be hard.

He heard Y/N whisper, “Hey, punk. Miss you. Miss you, too, loser.” He let his eyes travel to where she sat under the window, and watched her kiss the picture and well up. It was the old one of her and preschool-age Carl photobombing Rick and Shane, after one of them got some kind of cop award.

Clutching it once more to her belly, she and Father Gabriel then started to talk in low voices with one another.

“The red haze in your right sclera is so close to begin' clear. Did you talk to Rosie today? She’s been seeming less depressed.”

“I thought this was me visiting my patient, not the other way around,” Gabe gently hinted. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

Daryl heard her sniffle. “Rev, but I don’t want to have meant those words. I’ve been workin’ on it. It-it might be his fault, but I know he’s innocent, he’s humane—Sid even counts walkers like I do, man, yet still, I—” her breathing shuddered. “After whatever this mess is kicked in, every time I see him now, I hate him. Why do I hate a decent person?”

“Grief,” he offered simply. He gave her another shrug and small smile. “Keep doing what you have been. It will get easier every day, the same way your, um,” he was careful about his wording regarding her tits, “that you have more for the little ones every day.”

She huffed but didn’t raise her voice again, she stayed quiet as could be. “It don’t feel like none of that’s happening.”

“Our perception of things doesn’t always equal the truth, Y/N.” Gabe seemed to take a moment. Maybe he was praying.

Y/N’s fingers found her pulse again.

“We are all healing,” Gabriel next said, and smiled again. “Your heart is still beating, is it not?”

Y/N stared for a few moments, caught in the act. Eyes meeting Daryl’s for a moments, she removed her fingers from her neck, and inclined her head at the reverend. “What about yours?” she asked softly.

“Still beating. And that’s the proof,” he assured her just as softly. “Y/N, as for the way you understand your actions and your emotions toward him as not being right, I would like you to take it as a comforting sign. And, you just handed over a weapon you plainly wanted to keep concealed, you didn’t use said weapon to hurt Negan, either,” he pointed out, for which Daryl was grateful. “Perhaps, if you begin to make excuses, begin to feel no sense of having done wrong when you have, I will worry.”

Weirdly enough, he next grinned up at the ceiling. “But I am not, because you are simply broken and in need of healing. You’ll get there, as will I,” he held his hand out to the room. “As will your brother, your husband. All of us.” He sighed. “So long as our hearts are still beating.”

Daryl looked back at his wife in time to see her bit her wobbling lip and nod. Her gaze turned to Rick with the baby. He was kissing TJ’s scrawny little feet.

Her face softened seeing them, and as Daryl’s stomach fluttered again, she turned to look at him. His stomach full-on did a happy flip (and, yeah, he lost his grip on the necklace’s broken link and dropped it).

Y/N said to Rick, “Well, we still need to show ’em that Alexandria—that you—are accountable and fair. How many nights will do, you think?”

Rick shook his head. “Zero. But, because you have a point and won't take 'zero' as an answer,” he quickly added, “how about one?”

“For a piggy, you’re actin’ awful chicken.”

He was unmoved by the cop joke. “Bawk, bawk.”

And Y/N laughed, for what it was worth. And it was worth everything, hot damn was that laugh the best sound.

Daryl figured he might as well check, “What about bail, that still a thing?”

“Not with you owing a whole dollar. That’ll take weeks to pay off,” she said, back to doing her best to lighten up things. He loved her so fucking much, goddamn.

“Supervision when outside the cell,” she stated to Rick.

He shook his head again. “I have a better sentence in mind. When I saw you wearing Lori’s belt earlier today, it reminded me of it. See, and you left this at the infirmary.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

Recognition swept across her face when he held it out. “Do you think he’ll feel safe?”

“The headphone cord is too thin to choke him with, it’d snap.”

“Ricky, that joke was very dark,” she lightly chided.

He squinted, kissing TJ’s feet one more time first. “I hereby sentence you to one night—”

“—Three.”

“One in lock-up,” he spoke over her, then was fast to tack on, “with Daryl and this one as guards.” He motioned to the baby.

"Women shouldn't have male guards," she dryly droned.

"Overruled. You'll also get supervised outings for your duties tomorrow and the day after, including the trip to the Hilltop for Maggie’s prenatal visit. And,” he held up the music player, “you’ll need to listen to music with Siddiq on this. We know it works.” He cocked his head. “Let’s start with 20 minutes per day, like you and I had.”

Some tears slipped out even though she was smiling. She mouthed I love you to him, then asked out loud, “How many days?”

Rick squinted. “Fourteen.”

---------------------------

You

“You pick the songs. Whatever you like,” you told him, staring at the photo and rubbing the ‘22’ pendant over your lips. Daryl fixed the chain for you shortly after you’d broken it. You really love him.

Sid accepted the mp3 player out of your hand.

You and he each had one earbud in, one apple beside you, and Michonne sat nearby with Judith. Supervision was your stipulation, yet being proactive about ensuring it had done nothing for how humiliating it was.

Still, you took an objective look and figured Siddiq should know that his safety mattered, that your people were fair and held themselves to standards.

Just looking around the place, it looked as if standards were a given here. That Alexandria’s power grid and some panels were already repaired within three weeks of Negan’s razing was almost unbelievable.

Sucks for the Saviors Cult that the community had been built to withstand up to magnitude 4.1 earthquakes and be fairly fire-safe as part of its self-sustaining (and for-politicians) model, so in the least, a good number of the homes were still standing.

Carl's gazebo was another story, as were other similar structures, like the church, but the ash had been washed off by the rain, and the communities' walls were back up.

Next to you, Siddiq asked you how to work the mp3, citing, “Carl had been the one to…”

Had been the one to work it when he borrowed it to visit you out there, in order to show you some kindness. Before he got himself bit because of you.

The words festered inside of you. Whatever. Let them fester, you felt dead anyway.

As you went to point to show him, the picture hung from your outstretched, bandaged hand. The pic you'd chosen this time was another older one from the before-times, not one of the newer polaroids. You'd been the one to take it, actually, using a disposable camera about five and a half, maybe six years ago.

It was blurry, Lori and Carl had been being silly and stopped posing, Rick was mid-comment. You loved this one.

It felt so unreal now, felt fake.

Felt dead.

You checked your pulse. Still beating.

“The, um, just use-use those two buttons there for up and down to search,” you mumbled, tucking the photograph into your shirt pocket. “That one is for back, that one for options. Press down on the middle to click.”

He went huh. “Here’s the Indian music playlist,” he chuckled. Appears he’d found the Desi Party! playlist. Carl told you he’d played it for him.

Before he’d gotten fucking bitten.

How could your heart rage and ache so much if you were dead?

“It’s got all sorts on it,” you replied blankly to Siddiq. Remembering your oldest sister who’d made all the playlists before handing her mp3 down to you, it felt like she was made up. Felt like everyone was made up, fake. Dead.

“My mother was a big filmi fan,” he shared.

But you simply repeated, “Pick to whatever you like, you’re in charge of the songs.”

There was no emotion in your voice. You didn’t want to chat with him, didn’t want to nerd out about Bollywood music, and also didn’t want to face him after saying such awful things to him early today.

Hating him felt right. It felt "deserved," which is a word you'd learned to not use, thanks to Dale.

Granted, hating Siddiq felt wrong, too, which invited shame to take a seat on your lap.

So, you followed the rev’s advice and took comfort in the shame because it meant your conscience was still ordered in a good direction. It meant you weren’t fully dead yet.

You checked your pulse again to remind yourself that it was still beating. Life was still going.

Father Gabriel had also told you that feeling dead didn’t make you a bad mother or a bad wife or bad person, it simply meant you were broken and grieving.

“Y/N?”

“What?” you growled — and immediately wished it hadn’t come out that way. In your head, you told Carl you were sorry, you’d do better next time. Then, you prayed to stop hating the sight of Siddiq, the sound of his voice. Wished Dale or Hershel or T-Dog or Deanna or Denise or Sasha were there for, for—advice, support, you don’t know…

And because the rev has enough on his plate and needs to rest, maybe later you’d risk everyone’s ire and sneak away to visit Mr. Jones at the junkyard. At least he wasn’t dead yet, too. Maybe visiting him would convince him to move back to Alexandria.

“I never apologized for pulling you backward like that,” Siddiq said to you, a little short. Couldn’t blame him.

In truth, you had done all you were going to do to Negan after smacking him the once, but Sid wouldn’t have known that. Wouldn’t have known how grabbing you like that would flip an alarm, either.

No use moping, if your positions were reversed, you’d have wrangled him back, too.

And yet, you just caught yourself licking your teeth and sneering in response to his apology.

But it wasn’t out of anger or hatred so much as…you still aren’t certain what the emotion was. Grief, depression, shame, all three. You supposed it didn’t make a difference. Didn’t feel like much of anything.

Briefly, you put two fingers to your neck to check your pulse again. Still beating. Still alive.

Alive, and needing to eat some crow, as it were.

“Don’t apologize, you were protectin’ our patient. What I did was wrong,” you recited. “I-I threatened a patient and then whacked him across the face.” Your conscience then prompted you to apologize again for what you’d said to him. “And, just—Siddiq, what I said to you was bullshit and lies and m'sorry I said it. Cruel bullshit, naught else. Don’t go believing a word of it.”

He wasn’t clicking through the playlists and songs anymore.

Appearing uncomfortable, he peeked at you before he put his attention back on the mp3. “Michonne said pulling you like that was a trigger, which is why you, um…I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know.”

First, you relaxed your jaw. “Ain’t your job to know. It’s mine to learn past it.” Next, you spackled on something of a smile and added quietly, “It’s good that you, that you stepped in. Thank you.” You did mean it, for what it was worth.

How many minutes until the twenty was up, you wondered, and tried to not be obvious about checking the time on your wrist. Eyeing Michonne, she seemed more preoccupied with Judith than with being punctual regarding your penance/sentence.

“PTSD is serious. That’s why I’m sorry, I, um,” Siddiq faltered. He went back to clicking through the music choices.

“We all have at least a little PTSD, bud.” With a light nudge to try and convey camaraderie or something, you attempted to tease, “C'mon, you chosen at least one song, yet?”

“Sorry, let me just, uh…” and with a few more clicks, the first song started. It was Bohemian Rhapsody.

“You chose the playlist ‘Songs Everyone Likes.’”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that one.”

The memory of belting out this song with Carl, Glenn, Beth, and Maggie before your group even found the prison whooshed back and you started to smile—until you remembered that Carl was gone now. He was dead.

You’d forgotten all of that for hot second, but your Carl was dead. So was Glenn. So was Beth. So was Lori, who'd joined, so was T-Dog, so was...

Maybe you were dead, too. You felt dead—so, you pressed your fingers to your neck to feel for a pulse.

Still beating.

The lyrics of the song began to register. You know, the early parts like ‘I don’t wanna die,’ and ‘carry on, as if nothing really matters.’ Sounded a little too personal, tell you the truth.

And just like that, the song was skipped. You glanced at Siddiq.

He shook his head. “Not the right mood for it.”

“Mm.”

The intro to the next song in the shuffle was very bouncy, and ‘Dance to the Music’ started to jive through the earbuds. You didn’t sway along like you naturally would have. No urge to.

The song played, finished.

“First time I heard this was in Shrek,” Siddiq made small talk while munching on his apple. “Love that movie.”

You might’ve hummed in acknowledgment, you aren’t sure. He handed your apple to you, you took it. Held it.

The next song started, ‘Young Hearts Run Free.’

The song played, finished.

Siddiq made more small talk. “I remember that one in Romeo + Juliet, the one with, um, Leo DiCaprio. We watched that version in high school after we finished reading it.”

You hummed again. Pressed your fingers to your wrist, just in case. But no, your heart was still beating.

The next song started, ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash.’

“A lot of oldies,” he commented once the singing began. He took the final nibble off his apple.

“But goodies,” you responded, willing yourself to sound less stiff and monotone. “Modern stuff is on this playlist, too, don’t worry.”

The song played. Finished.

The next song started. ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’ Siddiq promptly skipped it once the refrain started and the lyrics sank in.

“Good call,” you grunted.

The next song started. ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.’

“Oh n—please skip this one, too." You loved that one, but you’d queued it up for Glenn at his and Maggie’s wedding, and it was not the time to go reminiscing. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Checked your pulse. Still beating. "Please skip 'Thunderstruck' if it comes on, too?”

The mp3 player clicked as Siddiq skipped the song. Next on the shuffle was ‘Under Pressure.’

He adjusted his seat and coughed. “This one fits.”

A combination sigh/groan was your contribution, because he was right. The two of you were the only doctors major medical personnel left standing.

The song played. Siddiq’s knees and wrists bounced to the rhythm where he sat beside you. You stared at your boots. Where’d all the soot and dirt on them and your clothes come from, you couldn’t remember…

…

It was when a strong gust of cold wind blew that you noticed that the music had stopped, your earbud was out, and the sky wasn’t as cloudy anymore.

When did that happen?

You sat up and blinked a few times, your apple still in one hand, Shane’s necklace in the other.

“Hey,” you heard Siddiq call.

What, why were your cheeks wet? “S-sorry, I,” you dropped the necklace, wiped your eyes with your sleeve, and put the apple down, “must’ve, um, checked out.”

“I’m not sure how long it was after it began when I noticed the change,” he let you know. “Is…this what happened earlier?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Earlier was somethin’ else. This was just—” ‘Dissociation,’ was a misunderstood word, so Denise taught you. And you didn’t want to use the word for that reason.

You really wanted to keep a shred of dignity for yourself in the eyes of that guy. He didn’t even know that you’d hurt yourself when you’d ‘blacked out’ the other day…so, you decided upon a white lie highly euphemistic layman's term. “I spaced out.”

He nodded, but his brows sunk, as if he weren’t buying it.

And when he did that thing where someone slightly opens their mouth because they’ve put together a response, you changed the subject. “Listen to anythin’ good while I was in space?”

Siddiq wasn’t swayed. “Do you still feel detached?”

“A little,” you answered truthfully, breathing deep and checking your watch to try gauging how long you’d been out. Except, you had no recollection of what time it had been earlier, so it was a bust. God save you, you were a mess.

“Sid. I’m sorry you’re trapped dealin’ with this shit, it ain’t fair to you. If, if you wanna bounce early, don’t feel obligated to stay, and, and—like, if you don’t wanna do this whole music thing, it’s fine. W-we don’t want you feelin’ unsafe.”

“Unsafe? Y/N, I…” he paused. “I forgive you for what you said earlier. And I’m not scared of you. Hitting Negan wasn’t okay, but…” another pause. “Compared to the way most others are baying for his blood and how you defended saving his life, I mean—you helped me save him, Y/N—” He lifted his hands, palms to the sky. “You’re my friend, we work together, it’s not like I can’t see that you’re drowning.”

Nothing prepared you to hear that.

He was calling you a friend and was still trying to be understanding, after all that…

You wanted to slam your head on a hard, rough surface and cry from the shame and simultaneous relief. You also didn’t want to accept it, and so pushed back: “You were alone out there too long. Friends d-don’t tell friends they wish they were dead.” And mean it, you did not confess.

But of all things, he merely raised one shoulder and snorted. “I’m a really good friend?”

Tears spilled at the same time that you almost laughed. No, it's true, you almost laughed. Things felt a little unreal again, but in not a bad way. The most you could do right then was send up thanks for the mercy that came out of the mess. You pinched your wrist first, then felt for your pulse.

“Compared to a few minutes ago, do you feel more like yourself now?” Siddiq made sure.

Huh. You used to ask Shane a very similar question, when he was forgetting his goodness.

You kept feeling the small beats at your wrist, reminding you that you were indeed alive, therefore capable of healing and growth.

“Heart’s still beating,” you sniffled, making yourself smile at him. The hatred and disgust you’d felt earlier seemed to you less like a fact and more like a bad dream.

Then, from the far right of the oak tree, you heard Aaron’s voice saying, “Not yet, man, they’ve got four minutes left.”

Aaron and Daryl then came into view. They waved to you as they walked by with the babies, another reminder that you that you weren’t fully dead inside. Gracie was in a stroller, TJ was bundled in Daryl’s arms. Your husband lingered behind, eyes on you as he absently pecked a kiss to your baby’s covered head.

Something stirred, and your chest fluttered and tugged in their direction, reminding you again that your heart was still beating. So was Maggie’s, so was her and Glenn’s baby’s, so was Rick’s, so was Aaron’s. Life was still going. You had a child, a husband; lifelines. Their hearts were still beating, too.

The unexpected wink and the way Daryl’s gaze softened as he looked at you made you feel as if you’d been freezing and someone just handed you a cup of cocoa with mini marshmallows. The way he next moved his lips to pronounce ‘troublemaker,’ however, you ought to have seen coming a mile away.

The heaviness in your body eased a bit. A smile started prodding the corners of your mouth. Shyly, you returned the wave and mouthed ‘mangy hick,’ your wrist bumping against the photograph sticking from your shirt pocket.

Aaron noticed him acting like a dope lagging and gestured for him to keep up. “Four more minutes and we’ll come back to get her.”

Daryl called out "slowpoke," and waved your baby’s little arm to the two of you as they walked away. He kept peeking behind him, too, it warmed you. When they reached far enough, you once again took the photograph out from your pocket.

With a final peek at Carl’s picture, you sent up a prayer and reaffirmed the promise that you’d made to him. That you’d live for him, do him proud.

So long as your heart was still beating, you’d try to do him proud. “Seems you and I got four more minutes, Sid. What’ll we pick?”

-------------------------

> Masterlist link here

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---------------------------

And here's the picture prize for getting through the long chapter!

#twd #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl twd #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #canon compliant #rick grimes #father gabriel #gabriel stokes #father gabriel stokes #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x y/n #wife reader #husband daryl dixon #dad daryl dixon #the slowpoke series #daryl x reader #daryl x you #grief #siddiq twd #dadyl #carl grimes

[elliebean714]

Hi.

I Watched The Walking Dead.

And I'm Hyperfixating On It Pretty Hard RN So.

IG I'll Write Stuff For

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Michonne

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Maggie Rhee

Beth Greene

Carol Peletier

Sasha Williams

Tyreese Williams

Tara Chambler

Eugene Porter

Rosita Espinosa

Abraham Ford

Only Up To Around Half Way Through Season Seven Cus The Streaming Service I Was Watching It On Took It Off For Some Reason.

Also I Was Really Struggling To Push Forward Cus I MISS GLENN REAL BAD But Yeah. Got Requsts? Send Them On Through. I'll See What I Can Do.💖

#twd x oc #twd x reader #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #plz request glenn and/or maggie stuff im very desperate #please. my husband and wife need more content #any character is fine obviously but yk #rick carl and daryl have so much fan fic #love them. truely. but they dont need more. #give everyone else a chance plz lol. #maggie and glenn specifically 🙏 #k love u bye 💕

[dixons-sunshine]

Spot Of Tea | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Marrying Daryl was one of the best decisions you ever made. He was no longer the hot-headed, rude hunter from the quarry who you couldn't stand. Instead, he was someone who you'd come to love above all else, someone who you bled with and shared a beautiful baby girl with. And just when you thought you couldn't love your husband more, he just had to go and have a cute little teaparty with your daughter.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: Back at it again with another Dad!Daryl fic, and this one was inspired by @louifaith's amazing idea! This was so cute and I just had to write this. Domesticity with Daryl is my favourite genre. I hope you like this!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

The sun was just starting to set. Everyone was starting to retreat into their homes for the night and the people on guard were switching shifts with the people on night shift. You were done for the day, a successful day's work in the infirmary adding a bounce to your step as you walked up the porch stairs and into your shared home with Daryl, locking the door behind you and shedding your coat.

The house was eerily silent. Daryl had sustained an injury while on a run and had been given the week off by Rick to heal. Although your husband had initially been against the idea, one look from you had shut any protests down—being the community's nurse and his wife gave you that advantage. It was already day three and he'd been spending all of his time with Hazel, your daughter. Each night you'd come home to find him watching some old cartoons he'd found tapes of with her in the living room, all cuddled up under a big, fuzzy, comfortable blanket.

So where were they that night, and why was it so quiet?

“Daryl?” you called out after searching the first floor of your small home with no sign of the archer or your daughter. You started descending up the stairs, but stopped when you got to the top. You could hear your three year old's voice coming from her room, soon followed by Daryl's own.

You walked down the hallway and into her room, stopping in the doorway at the sight that you met; your daughter sitting down on the ground in front of her bed, surrounded by her stuffed toys with the plastic tea set Daryl had found for her in the middle, with the archer himself sitting on the opposite side of her. The big, gruff man was "drinking" from the plastic teacup, sporting a plastic tiara. Hazel was happily babbling on, and Daryl was looking at her fondly, a small smile on his face as he hummed in agreement to whatever she said.

You leaned against the doorway with an amused smile on your face, silently observing your husband dutifully playing out Hazel's storyline. They hadn't noticed your presence yet, and you jumped at the opportunity to admire the two most important people in your life.

“Do you want some more tea, Daddy?” Hazel asked, pouring the imaginary tea into the cups of the stuffed animals surrounding her.

Daryl nodded and extended the plastic cup in her direction. “Yeah, 'course I do. Ya make the best tea in the land.”

Hazel giggled and poured the imaginary tea into Daryl's cup. “There you go, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Princess Hazelnut,” Daryl thanked her, taking a sip from the plastic cup and humming in approval. “Tastes good. Wha'd ya put in this?”

“My secret recipe,” Hazel responded with a giggle, placing the plastic teapot down on the ground, picking up her own cup. “You look pretty, Daddy. Like a real princess.”

Daryl chuckled and patted at the tiara on his head. “S'the crown. S'makin' me look like royalty.”

“Yeah, the look suits you,” you voiced, finally making Hazel and Daryl aware of your presence.

Hazel dropped the plastic teacup in her hands and hastily got up, rushing over to you. “Mama!”

You crouched down to catch her in your arms, picking her up and placing sweet, soft little kisses on her face. “Hey, baby,” you greeted her, an affectionate smile on your face. “Were you and Daddy having fun?”

“'Course we were,” Daryl chipped in, slowly getting up from the floor due to the injury on his leg. He walked with a noticable limp over to you, ruffling Hazel's hair. “We always have fun. Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut?”

Hazel giggled and buried her face into your shoulder. “Yeah. Daddy played princesses and tea parties with me.”

“Yeah. 'M Princess Dana of the Forest Kingdom. This lil' one is Princess Hazelnut of the Fairy Kingdom. We were jus' meetin' up to form an alliance to fight against the dangerous Fire Tribe, who wants to destroy the forest and all the animals in my kingdom. We need the help of Princess Hazelnut and the Fairy Warriors to defeat them once and fer all,” Daryl explained, using a deeper voice for dramatic effect.

“Well I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting. Do you want me to leave?” you asked teasingly, sending the archer a playful smile over your daughter's head.

Hazel shook her head. “No. Daddy and I will finish tomorrow.”

“Well, I've got the day off tomorrow. Would you mind if I joined you two?”

“Yay! Mama's gonna join us, Daddy!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hugging you tighter.

Daryl smiled fondly at Hazel, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I heard tha', Hazelnut. Mama's gon' help us defeat the Fire Tribe. They will no longer hurt the animals in my kingdom.”

“Yeah! Mama's gonna help us win!”

You laughed lightly at their theatrics, shaking your head. You placed another kiss on Hazel's forehead before placing her back down on the ground. “Why don't you go wash your hands and wait for me and Daddy downstairs? If you promise to be good, there will be a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise? Yay! Thank you, Mama!” Hazel exclaimed, hugging your legs tightly before bounding out of the room excitedly.

You chuckled affectionately at the little girl that brought so much light into your life. It amazed you how one small human being could fill a hole in your heart that you hadn't even realised existed before. Hazel was your pride and joy, your baby girl who you'd go to great lengths to protect, as would Daryl.

You turned back towards the archer and gave him an amused smile. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl mused, stepping forward to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “How was yer day?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you teased, laughing lightly. You gently took the tiara from his head, inspecting it. “Gotta say, though, the whole "Princess Dana" thing suits you. Never would've guessed it was you with this tiara on. You looked really pretty.”

“Stop,” Daryl said with a chuckle. “Hazel asked me to wear the tiara. It made the story more believable.”

“It sounds like a good storyline. I'm actually invested now, and I wonder how the two of you are gonna work me into the story.”

“Hazel will figure it out. She's a real creative kid. She has a big imagination,” Daryl replied, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your hip in a gentle caress. “She's amazin'.”

“Just like her daddy,” you responded, gazing up at your husband lovingly.

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, but you didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. “Nah, she got it from her mama. She's a mini ya.”

“I don't think so, but okay,” you relented, dropping the tiara on the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. “She's perfect.”

Daryl hummed. “Jus' like her mama,” he whispered before capturing your lips with his, kissing you sweetly and lovingly.

The kiss ended all too soon for your liking, but you remembered that you had a toddler waiting for you downstairs. “We should probably get her fed and ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, taking a step back. “Wha' surprise do ya have fer Hazel?”

“Cookies.”

“Who made them?”

“Carol. She dropped them off earlier before she went back to the Kingdom,” you explained, before leaning up to whisper something in his ear. “If we get Hazel to bed early enough, I'll show you what surprise I have for you.”

Daryl Dixon loves his daughter. She is his little girl and he would do anything for her, including dressing up as a princess for tea parties. He enjoys her company and wished to be in it 24/7. He'd kill anything that tried to hurt her and he'd die protecting her.

But at that moment, Daryl wanted to get her to bed and asleep as quickly as humanly possible. As much as he loved her, he had another idea of fun that involved only you, the love of his life, a bed, and no tea sets.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #dad!daryl #dad!daryl dixon #domestic!daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction

[sinsandsweetness]

Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?

now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)

been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)

I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗

PICK YOUR POISON

(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count

You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.

“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.

Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”

You ignore his attitude.

“Mom needs you.”

“For what?”

“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”

He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.

“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.

You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.

“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.

“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.

“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.

They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.

You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.

They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.

The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.

But they are.

They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.

You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.

When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.

But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.

Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.

“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.

“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.

“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.

“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.

“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.

He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.

Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.

“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.

“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.

“Right.”

Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.

“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.

But you didn’t.

“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.

“Which one?”

“Bud’s fine.”

You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.

To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.

“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”

You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.

Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.

“You gonna share?” You ask.

Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.

“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.

“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.

“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.

“Not a chance.” You smile.

He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.

“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.

“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.

“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.

“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”

You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.

“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.

“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.

“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.

You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.

To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.

“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.

part 2

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(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)

taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker

#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x y/n #shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut #shane walsh fanfiction #smut #rickyl smut #rickyl x reader #dbf!rick #dbf!daryl #dbf!shane #dads best friend trope #pick your poison

[writella]

Screwed Up and Brilliant

Synopsis: Negan is ready for you. Daryl isn’t; and maybe he’ll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (mentioned), Negan is a bad guy but there is nuance— at least I hope I accomplished doing so, angst, guilt, forbidden love, probably super stereotypical, reader at the Sanctuary, moral dilemma reader (but you got to understand, they’re both so fine!!), I feel like I need more cws but I can’t think of them and of course, smut, 18+: consensual, unprotected, vague dacryphilia, soft? dom!Negan, lite daddy kink, fingerings, riding, and basically just Negan blowing your brains out… but not in the walker way— the good way, the way we like. Amen.

A/N: Could you believe I started writing this in October or something? This is my first time writing Negan and I’m scared I may not have gotten it right so definitely feel free to give notes! This is set during season 7/8, I’m picturing Negan at the end of 8 and later seasons but there’s something about him older that gives me heart eyes everywhere, but whatever you prefer makes me happy. Anyway, from my heart, and maybe somewhere a little lower, to yours; with love from writella. ♡

You’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million-dollar man; so why is my heart broke?

—— LDR, Million Dollar Man

The space was clean; minimal. The kind that let out no secrets of the owner that inhabited its insides. And of course there were the little things that let out some slight details: the ashtray on the nightstand— a smoking habit; a ring, a metal chain, another of black rope— an unsuspected, albeit small, interest in jewelry; the bottom nightstand closed by a lock—mysterious and cautious, though that was to be expected. It was only reasonable he’d have something he wanted hide. But other than that, Negan’s bedroom was quite unreadable; almost purposefully mundane.

There was a fireplace, a window at the corner, and a bed at the center. It had a dark, brass, rusted headboard that leaned against the wall. Two pillows at either side. The sheets were white, and the large blanket was of fur, a tan or medium brown, it was thick and heavy. Probably unnecessary for the approaching spring heat, but it adored the bed end well; matching the other bronze, or brown, wooden and darker aspects of the room. Even the light from the small fire, though you could see clearly, made everything mildly dim— the Sanctuary wasn’t known for its brightness after all.

And truly, nothing in this bedroom, or in this fortress of a place could be described as anything close to bright. Unless you counted the sun outside in the courtyard, or the largest fireplace that blazed in the main hall, or Negan’s piercing, priceless smile— so pristinely white, so wide it almost looked painful to perform. There was an eeriness to it as well. That was at the forefront, and everyone saw it. With the way he maintained their cleanliness, it was something that could look so pure, so put-together on any other; but on him, its power could scare you into worthlessness. It’s the one he used when he told someone what to do even if they hated it; it’s the one he used when killing someone’s best friend.

It’s also the one he used on the first day he ever spoke to you. The first time that truly mattered, really.

It was during Negan’s first supply gathering at Alexandria.

You still remember it well.

Your faces filled with desolation, but chins held high; you were strong— good at hiding the pain, the fear— only straight, pokered eyes and mouths allowed as everyone silently agreed with you. You had told Negan that Maggie was dead.

The Widow, he had coined her. The wife of your good friend that he killed— so generous a man was Glenn, even when he wasn’t trying to be. And she’s your friend too, brave Maggie. That’s the one he wanted, but as far as he knew, she was gone.

Thank God, you thought, Thank God, yes, indeed, until—

Negan’s eyes glazed over your frame for just a moment too long.

You weren’t speaking anymore. You kept it short enough. He should have turned his attention back to Rick but he didn’t.

Where there was sly roguery in Negan’s eyes, anxiety weld in the looks of all others: Rick’s throat tensed and tightened uneasily, sweat trailing down his curls and onto his forehead; Rosita’s jaw clenched with bitterness, brows furrowing under her green khaki cap with anger; and then there was Gabriel: his eyes turned from solemnity and pretend peacefulness to wide bewilderment. The plan you two exchanged had worked: you would tell Negan of Maggie’s passing, as per your idea, and Gabriel would swiftly solidified your lie by saying he was the one who officiated the short funeral. But then, another problem arose; one where he could be nothing else but helpless in aiding you. What was he, or anyone to do? It was easy to help Maggie, she was more than twenty miles away. But you, you were here. Right in front of him.

“Wait a minute…” Negan’s pointer shakes lightly by his temple, his mind turning curiously. “You.” He said, shooting his finger in the direction of your chest.

His smile, mischievous as ever, only grew wider as a moment passed and he made his realization: “You’re the one with that- tight- grip!” He balled his raised hand into a fist as he said it. A slight snicker came after, proud of his entendre. “My men were tryna put Daryl in the trunk and you latched onto his foot like it was your dying- act- which—” you attempt to lessen the startle in your eyes at his upward hitch in tone, “—it most certainly could have been.”

Negan comes closer now, his face nearing your own, “But you know better now, right?”

Obviously, you did not.

Or you would have stayed home, not given him the chance to remember you as he said he would after your nails could no longer claw into Daryl’s ankle. He was thrashing too much and Negan’s men pushed you away; they were too strong together against the two of you. They kicked dirt in your face for it, held a gun to your head until Negan told them to stop. His point was made with your two friends he had killed, no need for another— especially not one who amused him like you had just done.

‘DAYUM. She is surprisingly strong!’ He had yelled, ignoring the weeping faces of you and the group kneeling in a line on the ground; sweat, blood, and tears dripping everywhere. ‘And I do like ‘em loyal…’ He had given you a once over while telling his men, ‘Hands off, gentlemen,’ and before returning his attention back to Rick, he added, ‘I’ll keep my eye on you.’

And he did.

You made an impression.

Now you’ll pay.

Rick should have told you why he wanted you to stay with Judith. He remembered what Negan said too. He remembered what Negan said to everyone. He couldn’t forget. But maybe it didn’t matter. It was only the start of Negan’s day here. Maybe he would have found you anyway.

Rick would feel it was all his fault nonetheless, but all you could think about is how truly, it was your own, and no one’s at all.

The sun allows glints of wickedness to sparkle in the whites of Negan’s teeth as he continues imparts his demand, “From now on, don’t stop me when I’m giving an order, okay?” It’s like you can hear him underlining his words just with his darkened voice. Turning his waist, he extends his hand to everyone as he finishes, “And that goes for all of you.”

You force your face to remain leveled as he meets your eyes again, that cheshire look returning directly toward you. He curls his head to the side, whispering near your profile, “So… you’re his girl, huh?”

Your mouth becomes slightly agape. You don’t even realize it before you can try to close it. He asked the question of aversion, or at least that’s what you assumed it was to Daryl.

You knew it was just his way, that speaking about things like this might have not been his strong suit. Besides, there were more things to worry about almost all the time, but it still hurt to know that when asked, the only complete and honest answer there could be was no.

Your eyes trail down slowly, desperate to avoid his, and Daryl’s face— a few feet away from you— turning to the side, looking at nothing. He could not hear what was being asked, but maybe Rick did, Rosita and Gabriel too. It was unclear, but their eyes prodded with more tension, more worry, Daryl could register that, and even more so, he could not stand Negan’s face that close to yours; he was probably trying to make an advance on you, scare you, or both. He pretends not to care, but ultimately it’s useless. Negan detects your expression and turns to look at Daryl’s; he notices both failing attempts at impassivity.

“Oh,” he muses, voice returning to its normal volume, “or not, my bad…. I guess that does make more sense though.” He speaks louder now, casually, like he’s a close friend consoling you about your boy troubles, “I personally haven’t been able to hold a conversation with the guy either, and I’m just tryna be friends.”

Daryl was right. Negan was weaseling his way in. He snarls because of it.

Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.

You feel the sweat beading from your hairline to the nape of your neck. The danger felt from Negan’s presence was as thick as the sun’s heat that shone directly on the cemetery grove. It’s hard to look up and especially to look at him directly for that long as if he truly was the fire in the sky, so you look down again.

Negan pats your shoulder sympathetically, his hand then going to hold up your chin, his thumb tracing your jaw softly.

It makes Daryl’s arms twitch and his stance jerks forward, but he’s pushed back, Dwight beating him on the chest. It’s only once but you can hear it, everyone heard it.

It only makes Negan’s grin become more sly because— there it is— a reaction; an answer. It makes what he’s about to do that much more sweet: “Fuck, darlin’. I’m sorry. Idiot,” he tisks. Then more quietly he adds, “I’m not one though.”

This time it’s for sure: Rick caught that, and Rosita too. They give each other an alarming look as Negan continues to trail over your dispirited form, like a wilted flower. His hand lowers back down to your shoulder, then trails to your arm, to the elbow, and then off of you entirely.

Despite the feeling of Lucille under his grasp telling him he shouldn’t, Rick urges himself to speak before Negan says what they all know is coming. “Negan,” he starts, swallowing the slight shake in his voice, “would you like to see the pantry—”

“Did I ask you to speak, Rick?” Negan states, his frame still positioned in front of you. “I’m thinkin’ here… I’m thinkin’… particularly, that you should come with me.”

Daryl makes a sound that you couldn’t hear, for Dwight was already barking a “Shut up,” at him. Only the swat he gives to Daryl’s shoulder is what is once again heard by all.

You almost choke on your gasp, but you hold it in. Only letting out the faintest sound as you ask, “What?”

“You heard me,” he plainly says. “I mean, what do you even do here anyway?”

You almost felt embarrassed to answer.

“No, I’m askin’. Seriously. Does Rick actually utilize you?”

As you begin, your voice is still quiet, “I… I work in the garden, with the produce… I help tutor the kids… I go on runs, gather supplies. I cook. Help with weapons maintenance, I—” you stop, realizing your grocery list of jobs probably sounds pathetic to him, you’re like a chore boy, “— I do a lot. But everyone does.”

“Hm,” Negan responds, playing with his nails nonchalantly. Your thoughts come to fruition with his next words, “So you’re just everyone’s helper?”

He noticed the sad offense emanating from your eyes, so he raised his hands, “And those are important things to do, I mean it. It must mean you know quite a bit from everyone, that’s smart, and there’s no trouble in it. But… I saw you. I think you can do more.”

“How?” You can still only gasp out your words. “I’m not Maggie. And she’s not here.”

“No.” He brings up one finger, “But you’re clever,” you look at him confused as he brings up his middle finger to join the first, “and quick on your feet, that I now know.” A third and fourth finger comes up, “You’re strong, you’re loyal— things I’ve stated before.” Then the fifth he says with a smug smile, “And you’re a looker, I must admit.” He moves his hand to one side of his mouth, pretending to secretly tell you, “But that’s just a plus,” he winks. “And more importantly, it seems to me that just like most people in Prick’s community, you are undervalued and not paid attention to whereas I see potential.” He says it all so simply, he truly believes he’s offering you so much better that he finally ends by saying: “Hm. Yeah. I think you’ll be much better off with me.”

And so, with no true goodbyes said, in a van you went after Negan’s visit was done. A different one from Daryl’s, of course. Taken away from the first home you had in ages.

Before the trunk door closed, Negan gave you parting words: “You see?” He had said, “I told you I’d remember you, didn’t I?”

The words rang in your ears for the entire ride as they still do now, even more or less than two months later as you sit in his room.

Your heartbeat started to rise little by little as time went on and he hadn’t arrived. With the window allowing you to escape into thought, you were left to think about the last couple of days, and specifically, the last time you were in here:

You were sitting with him on his bed. You had asked if you could talk about anything other than the world you two lived in now, and surprisingly, he obliged. It was nice. Sometime later, he had finally opened that locked drawer.

You heard him suck his teeth, what he was getting seemed lost, which allowed you to take a closer peek inside.

There was a picture of a woman. The first wife? The only real one? You couldn’t tell and you wouldn’t ask, it would have been too much. You didn’t even get a good look at the woman anyway— part of her face was covered and he was fast. But he saw your eyes, so you decided to take note of the books you caught a glimpse of, pretending it was the only thing you saw. You try to think of something to say… It did make sense he was a reader, at least even mildly if that was all it was. The way he describes his ideals, his persuasiveness, his diction— it impressed you, even if you disagreed with a lot of it. It was almost ironic that the only cover you saw was of a dictionary, the more valuable ones probably hidden under. “Is that where you get all your big boy words from?” You asked.

“Some of them,” he joked back, composing himself.

It was strange to almost catch him off guard. It was so unlike him to allow it, but what happened next felt even more surprising.

Whatever he got from the drawer was enclosed in his hand. He put the free one on top of the other as he started, “Now… I don’t want you thinking I’m growing soft on you. I just thought you deserve it because—” and then his voice fades. Even Negan, the ever curse-filled wordsmith, was finding it hard to describe in any other way that he was pleased with something as absurd as you not trying to escape anymore. He knew you would probably think that was the only reason for a gift, but then he opted for something that even you couldn’t help but know was equally true, “You don’t seem to proactively hate me anymore. You’re here. I appreciate it, so I wanted to,” he says sincerely. “That’s all.”

Negan opened his hand, resting the piece in your palm— it was a locket; lovely and rusted floral engravings all over it.

You felt sad that you thought it was beautiful, and even worse for knowing the reasons why he was giving it to you. No wonder his voice had faltered.

You remember the soft shock and awe on your face, how you said thank you and how your face felt so hot when you said it, how he asked you to turn, and how you looked at him from behind you after he put the piece on. He was so close and it felt like he was coming closer. You don’t remember if that part was real, but you can see it so clearly that it must have been. Unfortunately, the only thing you remember for certain is that knock at the door that sent Negan away to handle whatever was going on downstairs.

Had you almost let him kiss you? Would you have liked it? Are you the most deplorable person for even thinking that while Daryl was somewhere else locked up at the time?

“I see they delivered my message.”

You return from your daze, your startle leaving as soon as it comes.

It was just him. There Negan finally was.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just come in. The door was unlocked.”

“I knew the meeting was gonna go longer than expected; thought you might as well make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to you, “which I see you did, and no—“ you were getting up from his bed, “it’s fine.” Negan sets Lucille near the door. He walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed as well. There is a bit of distance between you two.

“You know, I came back the other day,” he informs, “I was actually going to talk to you last night, but then I heard you tried to leave. Again.” His eyebrows furrow, “We still on that?” He asks. “Thought we had a breakthrough the other night.”

“But after Carl—“

“—Carl,” he interjects, “came here all by his badass self, and for that, I did not lay even my pinky fuckin’ finger on him.” His hand goes to his chest, “I even took him home like a gentleman. And after I got here and found out they put you in a cell without supper, I had you back in your bed before midnight yesterday, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

“Seriously?” Your incredulity is hidden under the softness of your voice as you say it, but it’s cracking.

“As a heart attack. It’s your ex-people who don’t listen. At least I was nice this time.”

You sigh heavily, docility officially fading. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “That’s hard to believe. Especially if you were gone for most of the day. I know what that means. You had whatever the fuck your version of fun is.”

He grits his teeth, holding his words back. You’ve gotten a little too comfortable with the back talk, and you especially shouldn’t be saying anything after the night you had yesterday, but he allows it.

This time.

Of course, he didn’t like you leaving, but he rather that it was Daryl who escaped than you. And based on the bruises: one on the side of your head, one high on your shoulder— he imagines you might have gotten pushed against a wall— and the light ones that littered in a couple of spots on both your arms— he could tell his men must have been rough with you as they brought you back. He didn’t like that; therefore, he lets you quip. Someone would be getting their own bruises for it some time later anyway. He would take your smartass mouth out on them to cover for it.

“Maybe,” he finally says. “Nothing was undeserved though.”

You breathe in, the back and forth was no use. “What happened yesterday?” You asked, losing the sarcasm. Your eyes peered into his for honesty, hoping to skip the sly replies and get to the truth. “Just tell me what happened at home.”

Home. You knew better than to use that word. In fact, you have just stopped using that word. He let out an exasperated laugh, but skipped the lecture. “You want the truth? Or just the SparkNotes?”

You roll your eyes lightly. You probably don’t even notice you did it. Despite the situation being discussed, it makes Negan’s head turn endearingly— your tone of voice, the things you say, the way you react to him… you still don’t realize how fresh you’ve gotten with him, how comfortable. But he sees it.

“Alright. Well, Spencer’s gone.” He reveals offhandedly, replying to your silence.

Your eyes do not widen, you know what gone means. You simply nod and try to not think about how the now-cleaned bat most likely looked before.

“And don’t tell me that you care,” he says, pretending to interject to your continuing silence. “You gotta know he was a small dick nepo-prick, right?”

You bite the inside of your lip, shaking your head slightly. You won’t give in to a cheap joke even if it was pretty accurate, so he beckons you by name, “C’mon, that was funny.”

Still, you give him nothing.

He sighs; taking off his leather; and sits near you on the bed, his hands cupping the ledge. “Thought we were finally over this quiet thing.”

“A lot has happened this week.”

“Like…” he prodes. He would only talk about it if you brought it up.

Your eyes shut tightly before opening again. You didn’t want to say it, but you had to. “You know what. Daryl.”

He states the fact plainly, “Daryl left you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice is fierce now. You can’t believe it. You won’t. “He’s not that kind of person and this isn’t an easy place to get out of— I obviously know that— he wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know,” he jeers, “but he did and he didn’t bring you with him. Even though you were found trying to find his cell. That’s some real idiotic bullshit right there, isn’t it? From both of you.”

You glared at him hotly, you wouldn’t give it up, but unfortunately you had no rebuttal. Both of you would just continue on with the same argument, the conversation going nowhere. And not because either side knew they were completely right; in truth, neither of you actually knew what happened the other day. But in this regard, you felt there was no other choice: you believed in Daryl fully.

Because he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Right?

You continue shaking your head, trying to find something to say in retaliation as you feel your sureness withering. Separating you two was the smartest tactic. You now have nothing to hold onto. “He wouldn’t,” you repeat pathetically, “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately it’s not quite enough, so he continues with a rant you know all too well.

“You don’t believe me?” He cups the ends of the bed more tightly, positioning himself closer to you. “When I’m the one who gave you the safest roof? Secure food, clean water, access to all these pretty dresses, which, I know you’ve become accustomed to—” and here it comes— “I saved you!”

Saviors and their “saving,” you sneered at it. What bullshit. “You didn’t save me.”

“But I gave you someone to talk to… Huh?” He taunts, waiting for your response but nothing comes. He uses it to his advantage, “You’re quiet cause you know it’s true.”

But you know something too. He says it before you can.

“Or fuck, maybe I just gave myself someone to talk to.”

You pretend you can’t hear the earnesty in it. “Stop,” you scoff. “Don’t treat me like I’m special. I was the second choice.”

“I think with my dick sometimes. You’re the only choice.”

You start to shake your head, your face is flushed; scared, hot, and a little bit of something else that you refuse to let out. Then the tears come— the room feels so big and you two are so close and there are so many feelings you’re trying to push down. “It doesn’t matter,” you say wearily, “You took me. And you took him. You hurt him, I saw his face.” Your voice begins to tremble, almost in unison with the tears that peak out on your eyelids. “And that outfit you put him in. He didn’t even look me in the eye.”

“Stop,” he warns.

“You didn’t even let me see him.”

“He doesn’t notice you.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know you’re not happy… What about the other night?”

You ignore him, shaking your head: “You hurt my friends.”

“What about the other night?” He persists, his voice slowly growing louder. “What about every time I let you sit in on my meetings? What about how you have your own room? What about how I actually talk to you?”

“You let him get hurt—” the tears start to fall, there is a quiver in your voice but you still match his near shout, “And you almost killed Carl—”

“Shut up.”

“And you killed Abraham—”

He warns you by name.

“And Glenn! Maggie’s husband—”

“SHUT. UP.”

“The baby won’t have a father, Negan!”

His voice is low and grim as he demands you to “Stop. Now.” Negan grabs the sides of your neck as he says his next line, it comes out brisk and harsh and heavy like his touch as his hand wraps around your neck. “I knew you lied to me.”

Your voice is hushed, feeling his lightly pressed thumbs on the front of your throat as you speak shakily, “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Maybe not since you’ve been here, but did you hear yourself right now?” He pauses, allowing you a second to let it sink in. “You just fucking proved it.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. The baby, you had said. Fuck.

“See? Told you, you were smart.”

And he did. Brave Maggie. Clever you. That was his reason number one.

“You have to get why.”

His voice remains eerily calm. “I do.”

Another tear falls and his thumb presses its pad under your eye, spreading a tear on your face as the next one comes down.

“Negan…” you say. It’s a mix of a warning and a plea but you can’t tell for what, both fear and fire mix together because of his proximity. His touch and stare was dangerous, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was pleased he caught your slip up, thrilled to see you cry, but there was also something about it— his touch, his eyes— that was equally intoxicating. There was something more tender there as well, something you didn’t want to turn away from, he wasn’t as rough as you thought. Nonetheless, your answer to these conflicting feelings are ones of neglect, you stay your course. “You’re a bad person,” you tell him.

“Please,” he whispers back, “just stop.”

His eyes glaze over your features with an intent look you’ve only seen once before, it was that other night in fact. It’s almost gentle, but maybe it’s just pity, so you don’t let it stop you. “But you are.”

“Stop,” he pleads, then it’s hushed, “just stop…” he says, “just stop.” Then he starts coming closer. “Tell me to stop.”

And you know you should get up.

You should, you should, you should, you know it but— you don’t.

You breathe into it.

His lips latch onto yours; your heads tilt; you lock perfectly.

Everything after happens fast, the instantaneous mess of it all: he waited and waited, and of course he would. He was waiting for you to see it, to feel it. He thought the other night was the breakthrough, but no, it was tonight, it was how you didn’t back away just now.

His hand goes lower on your leg, nearing your knees so he can get under your dress, trailing up your thigh, reaching the inner side that’s pressed up to the other one.

His hand on your neck brings you in closer, traveling up to under your chin and jaw, holding you so tight, but so sweetly. All you felt was surprise. He slips his tongue in, it's deep and intense. He brings a velvet warmth that you’d never expect from him. It was paradoxical; a fiery heaven of a feeling.

He starts rubbing your clit over your panties, kissing his way up to your ear as he does so to ask, “When’s the last time someone’s fucked you?”

Your lips are parted, but you cannot speak, so he continues.

“Daryl never did, did he?” He asks in a muffle, continuing to kiss and kiss. “Who was before him?”

Again, no verbal response, but your breath does hitch at his touches. He continues to draw circles, your wetness now slowly dampening the material, making it easier for his finger to place itself between your folds, so he dips his hand under the band. That and his whispering makes you feel a kind of spark that shoots all the way down to where his fingers are touching. The first press of his thumb without any material in between forces a sudden heat to rise that instantly causes a flush of liquid to slip down your hole, it feels messier than it actually is until his fingers go lower spreading it everywhere. You were much wetter than you thought, and you can’t help how good it feels, how easily you’re responding to it.

Negan calls your name, holding in every cocky reply he wanted to give about how wet you are— he needed an answer to his question first. So he looks you in the face, making sure he has your full attention, “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” His words are meant more genuinely than his tone implies. “Not at all during any of this?”

You shake your head small and slowly. No.

He laughs pitifully, he doesn’t mean it rudely, but he just can’t help it. A touch-starved baby at the mercy of his fingertips? “Well, god-damn.”

He felt like a rich man.

He begins to kiss your lips again, now pumping his fingers into you. Your walls tighten. It’s only two, but they’re his. It’s new and exciting. His kiss makes you lean into the bed, the force of his head and tongue going deeper into your mouth guiding you to lay flat as his fingers still play.

“I hope you know how fucking soaked you are,” he finally says. “You need it so bad that it feels this damn good with me only touching you like this?” You can’t help the way your body jerks up and he can’t help but be smug about it. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Your eyes grow vicious at his grin, you almost want to hit him, but you can’t. All you can do is suppress your moan into a quiet whine. He’s so magnetic— his touch feels forbidden but so right; his voice so alluring; and his midas touch pulls you deeper and deeper into a trance, you might as well be turning into gold. Other than the involuntary reactions your body makes as his fingers continue going into your hole, now slowly going in and out as his eye gloss over your body in your favorite dress that you wore the most, you’re left paralyzed; subjected to following his lead. Wherever he wanted to go next, you’d let him.

He takes his fingers from inside of you and you look up quickly. You made sure not to whine at the loss of contact but your eyes couldn’t hide your dismay. All he did was smile and quickly lick away the wetness.

“Just takin’ this off,” he tells you as his hands cross over to the ends of his white t-shirt, slipping it off and onto the ground, one of those small rope chains hitting his chin as he does so.

It was only his shirt but you’re struck by him: to see more of his ever present sun-kissed skin felt almost godly. He was pretty lean, not too lanky like his stature, but not too broad either. Light curves of muscles adorned his chest and shoulders and arms. His chest and abdomen were slightly hairy, a tattoo placed on the upper right side and you finally saw the other tattoos placed on his upper arms more clearly. They looked nice on him. He was so handsome. You felt more wetness peeking out from down below. He looked so big above you.

“Like what you see, beautiful?” That typical snark still laced his voice, but there was a genuinity to it as well. He wanted you to like what you saw; to like him.

His words make your face hot, eyes casting off to the side. It was easier to talk to him when you were mad at him, when it was about home, even just small talk about the Sanctuary; this felt… different. Just like the other night.

You had almost already forgotten that his charm worked this way too; in a kinder way— when his eyes are wide, when his smile is soft, when he calls you sweet names without the irreverent, quip-filled pretenses.

It made you have all the words on the tip your tongue: how handsome and sexy you could say he is, how much you liked his tattoos, even all the greys that littered his hair and beard l, or how, if you had to admit it, you liked that dumb shit-eating grin of his, but all you can do is lightly smile, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at your bashfulness. You finally nod. “Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes, “maybe.”

He starts undoing his belt with a laugh of his own, “Oh I know you’re a fuckin liar if you think I’m a maybe.”

As his pants drop to the floor he takes each hand and places them over your shoulders on the bed to ask, “May I take off the lady’s dress?”

Your eyes widened, your open mouth only letting out a sweet, surprised, and whispered, “Huh?”

“What? Didn’t expect me to be a gentleman?”

You try to compose yourself, calm the fire you feel all throughout your body, and pretend you haven’t already given in completely right when he kissed you. “I just didn’t expect it would be all this slow.”

He laughs inwardly, glad to see the personality he came to know come back after all that happened these past two days. “Just give me a moment,” he jokes back. “You think I’m gonna waste seeing the reaction of you watching my cock spring out just so I can shove it in fast? ” He comes closer, his voice lowers now, “Believe it or not, I don’t think you’re just some doll or a fuck-piece.” The groundedness of his voice is something you’ve never heard before. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already stated that I see you. And truly, I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

Your eyes are stars. How can you even react? He thinks you’re gorgeous and you’re taken aback. “Thank you,” is all you can quietly say.

“You’re welcome.” He responds with eyes that have never looked so honest, so soft. You get lost in them and he has to pull you back, returning to his question, “May I?”

You nod, quick and excitedly, “You can take it off, Negan.”

He grabs your hands and stands you up. You look up at his face and his fingers move to the ends of your dress, pulling it over your head.

The tips of his fingers trace your chest and stomach lightly, delicately touching your skin as if it’s porcelain. He grabs your waist and travels up to take off your bra, then pushes down your wet underwear.

Negan’s cock stirs at the sight, you’re so pretty and so ready for him. “And I didn’t even need to see it to know I was right.” Just like he said, you’re gorgeous.

Negan pushes down his boxers. Cock springing up. Big and veiny with a red tip. He was itching to get inside of you.

And there you were, eyes and mouth open wide, scared and excited all at once. You were intimidated but surprisingly not scared if it would fit or not. You would let him do anything to get himself inside of you, even if it hurt.

“There it is,” he says, pleased with your reaction. He comes closer to your ear now, pushing you down by the hips against the bed once more. “And trust me, if you like that, you won’t fucking believe how I’ll feel inside of you. Just wait.”

“I…” He wanted to make you feel good, you’re almost speechless. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He says, and then he places himself above you, admiring your glistening folds as he spreads your legs. He already lines himself up, he could look at you forever but he is in no desire to wait any longer. He pushes in. It’s a bit fast, a tight fit, it must have hurt you, but he’s too excited, he can’t help it. He lets out a hum and then a groan at the feeling of your walls enclosing him, and he hears you gasp at his size. He starts to pump into you immediately.

His face hovers over yours. His eyes study your features and he realizes he’s never been this close. Of course he hasn’t, he’s never fucked you, made love to you. He’s just now noticing the way your eyelashes curl, what birthmarks adorn your upper body or not, and how many earrings you may have, but most importantly, he’s noticing the way you react to him: the way your eyebrows might scrunch, or what elicits more pants and squirmings, the way your lips tug tightly against each other or open into ovals and circles depending on what he does, how he thrusts, where he touches, how he moves.

It all makes him slowly speed up. He can’t take it anymore. He kisses your neck and jaw— some kisses sweet, then others that are rough and he begins to pump and pump. Faster and faster.

“Oh,” you choke out before moaning, “ah.”

He continues, loving every facial expression you make until he finally speaks. “Alright. I gave you a break— now tell me how it feels?”

All you can do is whine incoherently.

“Excuse me?” He says more sternly. You know what he wants.

“Negan,” you whine again.

He stops. “Yes?” He asks all too knowingly. “Gonna use your words and tell me how it feels?”

You sigh, taking the hand placed on your hip and moving up toward the ends of your stomach, all the way up to your left breast. You let his hand rest there, feeling the heat and your quickened heartbeat radiating from the area. “You… you feel so good.” Your eyes are watery, “Amazing.”

You got him there, and he almost can’t help but start hammering it in, but then he remembers… he doesn’t have to help it. He could do whatever he wanted, so he does. He squeezes your breast, grinning wildly as he gives you one hard thrust. “Damn right,” he tells you, hearing your yelp before pounding fast.

You had always been quiet but he never quite saw you at a loss for words as you are now. Your mouth is completely open, your eyes threatening to roll back further, making sounds he’s sure you’ve never heard from yourself before. Have you even had it this fast? This big? This great? He knows it couldn’t be. And he’s the one who gets to show you. His eyes gloss over you with pride at the thought.

He grabs your chin to get you to look at him, “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You moan. You weren’t used to this. Your eyes roll back completely as he pounds into you with eye contact.

It makes him groan loudly, his jerks into you, letting out his own moan from the sight. “Oh fuck, baby. Don’t play with me.”

You give in, force yourself to speak, you can’t let this end. “You, Negan!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” It’s so hard to speak, it comes out so pathetically.

“Who's making you feel like no one else?”

“You, Negan, it’s you!” Your moan turns into a pant, “It’s you, only you.”

He comes closer, his nose touches yours. His movements slow, but they don’t stop. He’s rocking into you now. “Only me?”

You don’t even think, “Who else? It's only you.”

His teeth sparkle, “Only me.”

“Only you, daddy.”

He laughs cockily, “So Daddy’s making you feel this good?”

“Yes, daddy. So good.”

You feel the groan he makes travel right to your clit, making it throb.

He kisses you, the corners of your lips to your cheek and neck and collarbones and back up again.

He restarts his pumping into you but his head remains close to yours. You decide to wrap one of your arms around his neck, pulling his hair, and the other hand travels down his back, holding him close.

Negan breathes you in, his head near the crux of your neck, hearing every little sweet sound you make that he’s never heard before. It all drives him wild, but then his eyes open. A question comes out that surprises you both: “Am I ruining your life right now?” He quietly asks.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say, breathing heavily from his touches, your eyes are still closed.

“I think it does.”

“You make me feel like no one ever has…” The bliss you feel from his current soft strokes and touches making it hard to speak, your voice is so light. “At least I got to experience it.” You open your eyes now, fingers tracing the cross drawn into his arm, “At least I got to see the real you.”

Your eyes say more than your words do. There’s a yearning and a sadness, an answer to what feels right in this moment, but an insight that there are doubts that could creep up later the more that you think about it.

“Just keep going,” you tell him, “I want to see you.”

You want to see him, you do see him. His head connects with yours again, and you moan into each other's mouths as he keeps pumping. Your legs come up to his hips and you’re not afraid to be loud anymore, to tell him how good it feels, how much you like him.

He takes your hands and places them over your head, crossing his fingers with your. It’s so pure, so lovely even when he’s going so hard down below. You hear your breaths heavy and your bodies slapping and the bed shaking.

You think about his skin, and his scratchy beard against yours, and the way you hate how he can make you smile by making the most ridiculous and raunchy jokes, and the way you love his voice, the way you can’t help but to like the way he cares for you.

“Negan,” you say weakly.

“Yes,” he responds intently.

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him. “I think I can.”

“Come for me,” he encourages, moving one of his hands down to rub your clit. “C’mon.”

“I’m gonna come,” you repeat, edging yourself on. Bucking up at his thrusts and his fingers.

“You can do it. Be a good girl. Do it for me.”

You swear the fireplace blazes louder and bigger, lighting up the whole room as you yell out, moaning once more as you orgasm.

Negan finally breaths out after, holding in for so long, and comes after you. His hands place themselves flat on the bed and he pushes in fast, riding out the high.

He scoops you up immediately, holding you in his arms. He doesn’t want to let go.

You two stay there for a moment until you look up. His hand caresses your face, “What is it?”

“I…” you were embarrassed to admit that you weren’t ready for it to all be over yet. “Can I ride you?”

A wiley smile appears on his face. He has to admit, he’s a little shocked you’re ready to go again, but he’d never turn it down. “Well, of course you can, babygirl.”

He flips you over, completely ready, but instantly, you become hesitant, almost overwhelmed. He was the world, not you, yet you were now above him. All the allowance to touch him anywhere you want at your disposal.

He puts his hands under his head, arms flexing. An ever wide smile present as he waits for you to begin. “You asked for it. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes grow excited again, deciding not to hold back, and you start to rock against him. You place you hands on his chest, feeling him up, touching his biceps, hands going over his tattoos— you could stare at them, at him, for hours. You honestly think you’d lick his whole body if he’d let you. And of course he probably would. To feel big and proud and irresistible while you look like a little desperate freak? You wouldn’t even have to ask him twice. Thinking about it and about how full his cock is making you feel, stretching and reaching all the right places, makes you moan and whine. You bucked your hips wildly, humming and giving him “mmms” because of how yummy it feels. You could do this forever.

“Ah- uh- Negan,” you moan and your stomach caves as you whine again and you hurl forward, continuing to rock but your pace is faltering. It’s becoming too hard and Negan can tell so he takes you by the hips, helping you move. First continuing to let your grind and then pushing you up and down his shaft so you can bounce on him. You push yourself up again, hand on his chest, pushing against it and you bounce along with his help. This was fun. You try to go faster and faster. It felt like being a kid on a playground.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at who you’re fucking, sweetheart.”

So you do, and moan at the sight of him, “Ohmygod,” you say. “You’re so handsome, Negan.”

He's so proud of you. Enjoying your actions, enjoying your noises. He groans as he sees your breast bounce and it makes you squeeze against him.

“Good girl,” he coos, “finally listening when you’re spoken to, about to make yourself come on daddy’s cock again.”

He starts to rub your clit again and you continue to bounce. It almost hurts because of how overstimulated you’ve become but you don’t tell him to stop. Your hands come to reach the headboard, helping you bounce harder. He tells you again how much of a good girl you are, how he loves that you’re not stopping, then he tells you how dirty and desperate you are for wanting him again after he already made you come. But he’s obsessed. This is all he’s ever wanted since the day he brought you here. His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and breast and back down again. There is nothing more he wants than to fuck you or for you fuck him.

You look down. You both notice your necklace still wrapped around your neck, almost nearing between your breasts, bouncing along with all of you. It reminds you of why you're here, why he gave it to you. It makes you have the realization he had… Was he ruining your life? Were you ruining your own? But how could you be when it all feels this good? It was completely screwed up, but everything felt so magnificently brilliant. His touch is everything, his voice is everything, his body is everything. It makes your hips stutter, it makes you moan, and at last, it makes you come again. You ride your high, going and going and going until you fall into his chest. His hands come to hold you tight thereafter.

Unthinkable bliss is all that is felt for a long moment… then… your head turns to the window. You remember what is out there and what isn’t in here.

A tear falls down your cheek and he realizes what’s happening when it falls onto his shoulder.

It hurts him now. To see you cry. It’s not fun anymore. You feel it, yes. You see what he saw, it’s true. But you aren’t really his wife. You’re nothing that is his at all. You both know that as well.

It takes you a long time to speak, you have to force yourself, but you do. “You have to let me go now.” You say it sternly but there is a sadness to it; a small part of you wants to not mean it even though you completely do, even though you do wish to stay here, to be enveloped by his embrace— you simply cannot forget.

“Mm,” he shakes his head, remaining leveled, “you know too much.”

“I barely know anything,” you say. “And not that anything I do know matters. Knowing the way around the Sanctuary isn’t going to help anyone when I know there is no way we could actually get in…. And what’s more important anyway is that I’m not changing my mind and you’re not either.”

“I’m not.”

“And I can’t. I wouldn’t. And they’re not going to. Never…. And if some of them die…” A whimper almost leaves you but you manage to swallow it, “I have to be by their side, Negan. I can’t only hear about it. I… I can’t see it next to you.”

His lips are pressed firm, his jaw is fixed and tight, almost like he’s grinding down on his teeth. The breath he takes through his nose could be a heavy sigh if he opened his mouth, but he doesn’t. He keeps it all in.

You words and their weight hang in the air for a moment before he finally speaks: “One of my guys that watches the armory doors has a shift that ends at 6:00 am… but at 5:50 I’m going to come up to him and tell him he gets off 10 minutes early that day, that I’ll wait for the next person to come.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, your confusion spirals before he keeps going. “It’ll be fucking weird, but he’ll look dumb as shit if he questions me, so he won’t. Then when he’s out of sight, I’ll leave. The next person is coming right at 6. That’s all you get. 10 minutes. A little less really.”

Your eyes round slowly as the stun continues to sink in. He’s… letting you leave.

“You take one gun and one knife. Just one. Don’t make it noticeable. I’m going to check. Then you go out of the back door that’s inside.” He didn’t have to tell you the way. “It should be easy, I know you’ve tried it before.”

You look down, taking in all he says, but then he turns you face to meet his, “If anyone sees you, I’m gonna have to make a show of it when they bring you back. Not what I want. But if I get there before you get out, maybe 5:58, just cause I’m an asshole, just to see you one last time… And if I do, I’m gonna turn you around and you’re stayin’. Fair?”

You nod. It’s small and light. You don’t question any of it, you can’t. “8 minutes.” You respond.

“8 minutes.” His voice is neutral, but underneath there was a tinge of solemnity to it. “8 minutes,” he says under his breath.

“What about now?”

“Now?” He asks. He didn’t think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. “Well,” he turns to his nightstand, “right now it’s nearing midnight.” He stares at you for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still weren’t used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. “You can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, or…” he stops, “You can stay with me, if you’d like.” His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. “It’s your choice.”

You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so much— there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others you’ve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever.

“8 hours till 8.”

“8 hours till 8, kid.”

You close your eyes tight and nuzzle into his chest, A peace you had never known in the Sanctuary finally subsumed you. You feel free to finally tell him, “Thank you. I miss home.”

Home. There it is again. There was no malice in the way you said it, but there was still a pang from your melancholy words that made his heart throb. You missed home. And as peaceful as you looked, and as safely as you held onto him, your words reaffirmed that home was not here and it was not with him, no matter how you looked, and no matter the fact that you were allowing him to hold you for the night, to call you his. In the end, you were not.

He had to finally accept it.

“8 hours till 8,” are your last words until you finally drift to sleep. This would be your last and most tranquil night here. To you, it felt right, almost harmonious, albeit sad. This is how it was how it was meant to be. You needed it.

But to him, it’s shattering. He doesn’t repeat the phrase back this time. For once he has nothing to say. The fire glow of the night has now withered into darkness.

You won. He lost.

But both your hearts broke.

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[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing Prologue

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #angst #fluff #smut

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumpuary Day 9-10

Prompt: “Stay. Please.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries

A/N: This one is just a drabble. I was not in a great mood when I wrote it and it probably reflects that. I’m sorry for the subpar work. I hope you still love me.😭

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

“Daryl, she needs you.” Carol implored, blocking the infirmary exit. The archer tried to side-step but the woman just knew him too well and moved with him. 

“Damnit, move!” Daryl all but roared at his best friend. He knew she meant well, he did. But he had to stop them. He couldn’t let them hurt anyone else. He’d failed enough by allowing them to get to you. It was eating him alive. He didn’t know how else to deal with the guilt. It was fueling his rage like gasoline on a fire. 

“You’re not thinking straight!”

“M’thinkin’ jus’ fine! Move, Carol!”

“You can’t go out there like this!”

“I can’ believe this! Ya saw wha’ they did ta ‘er!”

“And that’s why you need to stay!”

“Nah, tha’s why I gotta—”

“Daryl.” Your voice was low, strained. It was weak. But he heard it. Of course he heard it. The archer didn’t give Carol a second glance when he crossed the space to you in two long strides. The silver-haired woman walked behind him with her arms crossed, eyes rolled. She knew all it would take was your specific persuasion to calm Daryl down. She was only hoping to hold him off long enough for you to awaken. 

“Hey, m’right here.” He sat down on the edge of your bed in the infirmary, his hip pressed against yours. You looked so small, fragile in the large bed. Pale and bruised with stitched lacerations and butterfly sutures. “Yer gon’ be okay, ya hear me?”

Your smile was tired and small but it was genuine. “I know I am.” You opened your hand and he took it immediately, pressing his lips to your busted knuckles. “I know I am because you’ll be here to protect me, won’t you?” You blinked slowly and watched his expression fall. 

“Ya know I gotta—”

“You don’t gotta do anything.” He looked like he might start to argue so you began to sit up, wincing with an arm around your middle to brace your broken ribs. Daryl was all don’ do that and stay still but you showed him what it felt like for your pleas to be ignored. Finally upright, you panted while Carol rushed to lift the head of the bed for you. You could breathe easier sitting up. You could also look your husband in the eye properly. “All you need to do is be here with me until a plan can be made.”

Carol smirked, seeing the very moment Daryl’s resolve began to crumble. When he glanced at her, most likely for backup he knew he’d never get, she was quick to turn her head, her smile hidden behind her hand. 

He sighed, deeply but not yet resigned. “I can’ jus’—”

“Stay.” You whispered, bringing the hand that was still holding yours to your cheek. “Stay. Please.” 

And that was that. 

Carol closed the door behind her just as Daryl situated himself on the bed with you so you could settle against his chest. When it came to Daryl Dixon, there was nothing anyone could say or do once he had set his mind on something. Except she now had a secret weapon. 

You. 

Taglist:

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#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno5 #“stay. please.” #injuries #the walking dead #fic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x wife!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x female reader

[allthingsimagines]

State of Grace

“This is a state of grace. This is the worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right” - State Of Grace by Taylor Swift

Rick Grimes x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: The group is wary of Aaron, until he reveals information that shocks the group to their core.

Takes place in season five at the start of the Alexandria arc!

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Swearing, childbirth, fluff, and ooc Rick

a/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for literal years. It’s not great, but I don’t care!! I hope you enjoy! Also, sorry for the formatting I’m on my phone!

—————————————————————————

The group all stood on high alert as they stared Aaron down as he sat tied to the pole. He was an outsider and knew far too much about them for any of them to be comfortable.

Rick was at the edge. He would either fall off and lose himself or pull himself back. The group was doing their best to keep him stable, but after Terminus, the death of Beth, and his own wife being lost after the Prison he was close to being too far gone. The only reason he hadn’t yet was for Carl and Judith. If he hadn’t had them he would’ve been long gone by now.

Aaron was another threat to the group’s safety.

Rick stalked around him as the group watched on. He seemed like a predator about to go in for the kill. Rick had always been an intimidating guy, but after the loss of his wife and the months on the road he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully return to who he had been when she was alive.

When the Prison fell everyone got scattered. Rick had been in the yard, Carl with Daryl, Judith with the kids, and Y/N had been in the sick wing helping Maggie evacuate people. When everyone got separated she’d just disappeared. No one had seen her since that day and there was no indication she was alive. Rick had lost hope a long time ago. She was tough, but it was difficult enough for them to survive as a big group. There was no way she would have made it months on her own.

Aaron gulped as the group discussed what to do, “My job is to convince you to follow me back home.”

Everyone looked around skeptically at his words. Aaron sighed, he knew it would take a lot of convincing, “I know, if I were you, I wouldn’t go either until I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Aaron looked around at the big group and took a breath to steady himself. He’d been following them for two weeks and still didn’t know half as much as he would’ve liked to about them. He knew Rick was the leader and had two kids. He knew a few others like Maggie, Sasha, and Glenn, but the rest of them were strangers for now. Yet, he knew they’d keep them alive.

Alexandria needed people who knew how to survive and navigate the world they lived in now. The only people in the community who knew how to was himself, Eric, Deanna, Enid, and Y/N. She was the perfect person to teach them, but she wasn’t much help outside the walls since she was pregnant.

“Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack? Front pocket, there's an envelope,” Aaron asked and Sasha complied as she brought it to him.

“There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those. I apologize in advance for the picture quality,” Aaron said as Rick pulled them out and looked through them.

“No one gives a shit,” Daryl grumbled out and Aaron nodded quickly.

A few others crowded around Rick to look at the pictures when the baby began crying. The teenager tried his best to calm her, but she just wailed. Rick pinched his brow and sighed, “Carl, will you get Judith the binky in my pack.”

The boy quickly complied as he tried to soothe his sister. Aaron’s eyes widened and he felt his heart jump at his words. He quickly leaned forward, pulling against his binds, “Your son is Carl and your daughter is Judith?”

The group all shared confused looks as Aaron looked like he’d had a world ending revelation. Rick passed the pictures to Glenn as he moved closer to Aaron, “What’s it matter to you?”

He kneeled down in front of Aaron and glared down at him, “Why do you need to know?”

Aaron swallowed, trying to compose himself, before looking up at Rick, “Did you have a wife named Y/N?”

Rick physically recoiled at the question and everyone tensed. How would he know her? Carl stepped closer to them, Judith held firmly at his hip as she was quiet now, “How do you know my mom?”

Aaron looked sympathetically at Carl and Judith before looking back to Rick. He looked as if Aaron had flipped his whole world, “How do you know that name?”

“She’s alive. She’s been living in our community with my husband and I for the past few months. She’s talked about your family endlessly- I just didn’t put it together,” Aaron breathed out and he saw the whole group react to his words.

Rick stumbled back and stood deathly still as he paled. Carl moved forward, his eyes full of hope, “How can we trust you? Where’s my mom!”

Aaron nodded towards his bag, “There’s a picture of her in the inside zipper of my bag.”

Glenn quickly unzipped the pocket before pulling out the picture and passing it to Rick. Rick couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at it. It was her. She was leaning her head on a man’s shoulder, who he assumed was Aaron’s husband, with a bright smile on her face.

She was alive and happy.

Rick let out a choked sob as Carl tore the picture from his hands and broke down as well as he clutched his sister to him. The whole group was visibly affected by his words as they all had bright looks on their faces. Rick pulled Carl into his side and pressed a kiss to his head, “She’s alive. We’re gonna have your mom back.”

Glenn cut Aaron free and he stood up and rubbed his wrists. Rick released Carl, but when he turned to Aaron to say something he noticed the odd look on his face. Rick moved closer to Aaron and felt his stomach drop, “What’s wrong?”

Aaron looked up at Rick and scratched his neck, “I don’t know how to say it.”

Rick pushed down his fear as he stepped closer to him, “Aaron what’s wrong with my wife?”

Aaron met Rick’s piercing eyes and breathed out, “She’s pregnant.”

Rick swore he’d died. There was no way that she’d lived, but now she was pregnant? She couldn’t be.

Rick grabbed Aaron’s shoulder as leverage as he almost fell over, “What?”

Aaron grabbed Rick’s arm, “My husband and I picked her up on the road five months ago and brought her back. We’ve been taking care of her. The baby is doing great and so is she. She helps our leader, Deanna, out as her advisor so she doesn’t have to leave the walls.”

Rick tried to take in deep breaths, but he could hardly comprehend that his wife was alive and now she was pregnant? Rick grabbed onto Aaron as he fell to his knees. He tried to breathe as everything became too much for him.

His wife was pregnant and she’d been alive this whole time. They were going to have another kid.

Aaron squeezed Rick’s arm and sighed, “Rick, she’s full term now and when I left she was having consistent Braxton Hicks.”

Rick almost fell over from how quickly he shot to his feet. Lori had those during both pregnancies and she’d given birth soon after. He needed to be there for her. Especially considering what had happened to Lori.

“What’s that mean?” Carl asked, quickly wiping any remnants of tears from his face.

“They’re false contractions, but they’re meant to prep your body for labor,” Maggie answered, coming up behind Carl and squeezing his shoulders supportively.

“Take me to her. Please,” Rick pleaded with Aaron and he was quick to nod.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll radio my husband to come get us in our RV. We can all fit, but it’ll be tight,” Aaron said, looking around for approval.

Everyone quickly moved to ready their gear and Aaron took that as his sign to radio Eric. He quickly moved towards his radio that had been tossed out of his bag and picked it up, “Eric, we need you to get us at the barn we scouted. They know Y/N. Her husband and kids are with them.”

“Oh my god. Okay, I’ll be there soon. Be safe,” Eric quickly responded.

Rick held Judith tightly to him as he moved over to Aaron and clapped his hand on his shoulder. Aaron quickly turned to him only to find his demeanor much more relaxed, more like the man Y/N had described. Rick let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Thank you.”

Aaron nodded and sighed, “She’s family to me too now. I’d do anything for her.”

Rick nodded as his nerves began to eat at him. The group packed up quickly and they all anxiously waited in the barn to leave. Twenty minutes passed before Eric pulled up and they all quickly filed in. He seemed stunned by the road hardened people that passed by him to get into the RV. The RV was big, but they had a large group now and they were all crammed in.

They all sat packed into the RV, each having their own quiet conversations for a while until Aaron’s radio went off. The whole group turned to look at him as he quickly fished it out.

“Hey, Aaron, you there?” A female voice said.

“Hey, Denise. What’s up?” Aaron responded.

“Just wanted to check in and give you an update. When are you heading back?” She asked.

Aaron looked around at the group and scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, actually now. I’m bringing back that group I scouted for Deanna. Tell her that we’ll be back in less than an hour and they’ll need to get check ups asap just in case.”

“I’ll let her know, but the doctors office is kinda busy today,” Denise said sounding hesitant.

“What? Did something happen?” Aaron quickly asked, sharing a nervous look with Eric.

“No! No, nothing bad, but we’re about to have a new baby around here soon. She wanted me to let you guys know,” Denise said, with a cheery tone to her voice.

The whole group froze as Aaron looked at Rick in slight horror. Rick kissed Judith’s head and squeezed Carl’s shoulder as he tried to be strong for them. The last time, Carl had to kill Lori after she needed a C-Section. Rick knew Carl wouldn’t survive losing his other mom the same way.

Aaron’s eyes softened as he noticed their family dynamic. He remembered what Y/N had told him about Carl’s mom and he could tell it was causing trauma to resurface for them.

“How is she? Everything going okay?” Aaron asked, nervous himself for his friend.

The radio was silent for a few moments until it crackled again and a new voice came over the radio, “She can speak for herself. I’m in active labor, not dead.”

The whole group shared a look of shock. It was her. Rick quickly moved to the front of the RV to stand next to Aaron, his blue eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“And yes, I’m fine. I’m almost fully dilated, so not much to do but have terrible contractions till they come. Baby Grimes would like to make an appearance soon, so I’d appreciate if you hurried back. It’d be nice to have someone who I actually care about to hold my hand. You too Eric. How’d scouting that group go? They convinced yet?” She asked breathlessly as Rick and Aaron shared a look.

Baby Grimes. She hadn’t let go either. Rick had a child and wife waiting for him.

Aaron held the radio out to Rick and he looked at it nervously. What was he even supposed to say? Rick turned as Carl came up behind him and took Judith from his arms so he could hold her. Carl’s eyes were filled with a hope Rick hadn’t seen in years. Rick swallowed his fears and took the radio from Aaron’s hand.

“Darlin?” Rick said, his voice wobbling as he choked out the words.

The radio was silent for a moment before her shaky voice said, “Rick? Is that you?”

Rick fell to his knees at the sound of her voice. It was his wife. She was alive.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. We’re okay. We’re all on our way,” He breathed out as a hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked behind him to see Daryl behind him.

A loud cry came over the radio and the whole group from the prison visibly reacted with relief of their own as they finally had a family member back.

“Oh my god, I swore I’d never hear your voice again. Is everyone there? Carl? Judith? Please, please, tell me they’re okay,” She sputtered out through sobs.

Carl snatched the radio from his dad’s hands and shakily said, “Mom, mom, it’s me. We’re okay. Judith and I are okay. We miss you.”

“Carl, baby, I-I-,” She started but broke down into tears and the radio went silent for a second.

The whole group went dead silent as the radio cut out, but quickly reacted as she cried out over the radio. Rick rushed to Carl’s side as he stared at the radio in horror.

The radio cut back in and Y/N’s groans could be heard in the background, “She’s okay! Just bad contractions. She’s gonna need to push soon, so hurry if you guys can. I’m sorry I’ve got to go to make sure everything goes okay, but Aaron knows where the delivery room is. Deanna knows and she’ll have Spencer open the gates as soon as you get there and let them through.”

The radio then shut off and Rick looked up at Aaron in abject horror. What if he missed his child’s birth? What if something happened to her? Aaron squeezed his shoulder and shook him a bit to bring him back, “We’ll be back soon. She’s gonna be okay. We have good doctors and medical supplies to make sure of it.”

Rick nodded, seeming like he was off in a different place. Aaron moved back to Eric’s side and helped direct him the quickest way to Alexandria. Rick sat against the door of the RV, his mind running over every worse case scenario.

Nothing ever went right for him.

Right now he could have his wife and a new son or daughter when he arrived to Alexandria. Or he could lose them both, and he was sure that he would never survive that loss again of someone he loved so desperately.

Eric pushed the RV as hard as he possibly could without blowing anything mechanical. A half hour passed before Aaron finally announced that they were there. They all rushed to their feet and looked out the window to find a fenced in town with guard towers at the gates.

The group had been in one place with high fences before, but this place looked untouched from the apocalypse. Aaron turned to the group as Eric slowed as they got closer, “When we get in the gates, you will all have to turn over your weapons. We don’t allow people to have them, unless they’re on patrol or cleared by our leader Deanna or Y/N. You will all be interviewed by Deanna and then get a check up by one of our Doctors.

Rick and Carl, you’ll come with me. The rest of you will wait until I come and get you or you’re showed to a house. This community is pretty sheltered, so please take it easy around them for now. Understood?”

They all shared nervous looks before nodding in agreement. The RV came to a stop and Aaron and Rick shared a look.

They needed to go.

Carl passed Judith off to Carol as Eric quickly turned the car off and opened the doors and Aaron, Rick, and Carl quickly moved out.

The group rushed towards the gate as it slid open for them. Rick and Carl hardly had time to admire the community before Aaron waved his hand at them, “Come on. Medical center is over here.”

They hurriedly followed after Aaron and Eric as they ran towards one of the closest buildings and people stared as they sprinted past. Rick couldn’t have given less of a shit as he just ran after them.

Aaron barreled towards a house and quickly threw the door open. Rick’s eyes widened at the sound of his wife crying out. Rick shoved past Aaron and rushed toward the room. The continuing cries became louder from the door at the end of the hallway.

Rick quickly grabbed the handle and threw the door open and there she was. His wife was laying up against a mountain of pillows with her legs propped up.

Dear god.

Her eyes pooled with tears at the sight of her husband alive and in front of her. She released the sheets from her clutched hands and reached out for Rick, “Rick- oh my god.”

Rick went to rush to her when a woman quickly moved in front of him, “Woah! Okay, I know you want to see her, but you’re gonna put her and the baby at risk if you don’t wash everything off of you.”

Rick hadn’t really considered that it’d been months since he’d showered properly. He looked at his hands and found they were covered with blood and walker remains. He hadn’t even thought about it.

“Denise he can- he can stand up by my head and he won’t touch the baby until he’s clean. Right Rick? I can’t do this without him,” She said squeezing her eyes shut and crying out in pain.

Rick nodded frantically, desperate to touch his wife himself after months apart.

Denise looked hesitant, but let out a frustrated sigh, “At least scrub your arms and hands with soap quickly and put on that surgical gown just in case.”

Rick didn’t say another word as he quickly rushed toward the other room where the woman pointed. He moved to the sink and scrubbed at his hands so hard they felt raw. The sink turned red as his hands were washed clean of all the remnants of the outside world. Carl quickly sprinted in, turned on the sink next to him, and did the same.

Once Rick felt like his hands and forearms were clean of blood and filth, he put the surgical gown on and rushed back into the room.

“You have to push! Come on deep breath and bear down,” Denise said as she stood between her legs.

She breathed heavily as she pushed for ten seconds, before she laid back and let out a groan of pain. Rick moved to her side and quickly took one of her hands in his own and pressed it to his lips. Rick tried to force back his tears and the emotions threatening to overcome him as he finally had his wife right in front of him.

She tiredly smiled up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, “Hey Sheriff.”

Rick chuckled before he quickly captured her lips, “Hey darlin.”

Her smile was interrupted as she squeezed her eyes in pain and clutched onto his hand tightly.

“How’s she doin Doc?” Rick asked worriedly, Lori’s death at the front of his mind.

Denise tried to smile comfortingly and said, “She’s doing great, but you’ve got to keep pushing. Baby’s almost here.”

Rick looked down at his wife and squeezed her hand, “You can do it. I’m right here.”

“Me too,” Carl said as he rushed to her other side.

Her eyes brightened at the sight of her son at her side. She took Carl’s hand and nodded as she sat up, “Yeah, I’ve got you two now. I can do this.”

“Fuck yeah you can mom,” Carl said beaming at her.

Rick laughed at his words and she shook her head with a loving smile directed at him, “I missed you, but watch your language baby.”

Carl smirked and he and his dad shared a look as she got ready. Denise smiled at the family before clearing her throat, “Okay, after this next contraction you need to push again. Make it count you’re almost there.”

She nodded and shared a nervous look with Rick. Rick squeezed her hand and quickly kissed her forehead, “You can do this baby. We’re right here.”

She nodded before letting out a shaky breath and squeezing her eyes shut as Denise indicated for her to push. After the seconds of silence she cried out and fell back, but Rick quickly slid his arm around her waist to catch her, “You’re doing great darlin.”

She nodded against his shoulder as she mentally prepared herself to push again.

“I can see the head. One more good push and it’ll be done,” Denise said.

She nodded and she took another deep breath, “That better be a goddamn promise Denise.”

Denise smiled and shook her head, “If it’s not, I’ll give you my bottle of bourbon.”

She let out a shaky laugh and smiled at her, “You’ve got a deal.”

She looked at both of her boys and felt determination swell in her chest. She felt the contraction come on and she pushed with everything she had.

Rick brushed the hair out of her face as she cried out again. Then the room was filled with a sharp cry.

Rick felt his whole body tense as Denise beamed at them as she lifted the baby up, “It’s a girl. She’s beautiful.”

She immediately began to cry as Denise nodded at Rick, “Wanna cut the umbilical cord dad?”

Rick nodded and shared a look with Carl. Carl nodded and quickly moved his arm around his mom to support her sitting up as tears of joy streaked down his face. Rick took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord where she directed as she quickly cleaned his daughter.

Carl helped his mom get more comfortable on the pillows as they waited for Denise. Carl pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I love you mom.”

She smiled up at her oldest boy, “I love you too baby. I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Rick’s eyes were full of tears as he carefully looked over Denise’s shoulder as she checked over his daughter. He hadn’t really felt this way since Carl was born. He felt like he was teetering on an edge as he waited to see his youngest daughter.

Denise turned around and Rick moved to her side. Denise smiled softly as she carefully passed the small bundle to her outstretched arms, “She’s healthy and looks perfect. You did great Y/N.”

She let out a choked sob as she took her daughter into her arms, “Hey sweetheart.”

Rick finally let his tears fall as he looked down at his beautiful daughter. She leaned into Rick’s embrace and gently stroked her baby’s cheek, “You’re so so loved already.”

Carl sniffled as he leaned closer to his mom to get a better look at his youngest sister. She looked up at him and smiled brightly, “This is your big brother, Carl. He’s gonna be the best big brother ever and he’s always gonna be there for you .”

Carl nodded as she lifted her up closer to him so he could see her for a moment. Then she turned and her eyes met Rick’s that were filled with emotion. She moved her daughter now to Rick’s side so he could see his little girl.

“This is your daddy. He looks mean and grumpy, but he’s a softie I promise. He’ll always keep you safe,” She said with a gentle smile as he got to look at his daughter.

Rick brushed his finger over her small cheeks and choked out sob. He pressed a kiss to his wife’s head, “I love you more than anything. Thank you.”

She pulled away from him before she leaned up and kissed him. She pulled away breathlessly and smiled before moving her gaze to her daughter, “You can thank Hope for getting us here. I would have died a long time ago if I hadn’t been fighting for her.”

Rick raised an eyebrow and smiled, “Hope? That’s her name?”

She nodded resolutely and beamed, “Been calling her Hope since I found out I was pregnant. Hope Willow Grimes.”

Rick nodded and smiled down at his daughter, “Hope’s a great name for her.”

She nodded before turning to give her boys a tired look, “As much as I love you both, you reek of blood and sweat. Aaron can take you to one of the empty houses to get cleaned up. Then you can come back and hold her. Okay?”

Rick felt his whole being begging him to stay, but she was right. He pressed a kiss to her head and looked down at his daughter before stepping away, “Kay, but you send someone for us if you need anything.”

She nodded as Rick and Carl moved towards the door, “Got it Sheriff. Will you bring back Judith and the others?”

Rick nodded and smiled, “Promise. Trust me they’ll be begging to come see you as soon as we get there.”

“Well, tell ‘em I’ll give ‘em a pass for not getting a baby gift in time,” She joked as she rocked their daughter gently.

A knock came from the door and they all turned to find Aaron and Eric standing there. They both stepped into the room and Aaron smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, we didn’t wanna intrude, but I overheard you. I’ll take them to the house Deanna is setting them up in. She’s gonna set your group up in three houses. Some of the residents are moving your stuff into a separate house so you guys will be together.”

Y/N smiled and waved them into the room, “You’d never intrude. Come see her.”

Eric moved to her side and smiled down at the baby. Aaron held out his hand for Rick to shake, “Congratulations.”

Rick paused for a moment before pulling Aaron in for a tight hug. Aaron tensed for a moment before clapping Rick on the back. They pulled apart and Rick nodded in thanks, “This is all cause of you. Thank you.”

Aaron smiled at the sight of his husband and friend cooing over the baby, “Come on. I’ll take you guys to get cleaned up.”

The boys hesitantly followed after him and to the house. An hour passed and Y/N fed her daughter as she talked to Eric.

“When you mentioned your husband he wasn’t quite what I pictured,” Eric said as he rocked back in his chair.

She raised an eyebrow at him, “What’s so different?”

Eric rolled his eyes, “Y’know for being in an apocalypse where you don’t have many options you bagged one of the finest men I have ever seen.”

She burst out laughing as she grinned at him, “Oh, I know. Trust me I was fighting off women left and right when we lived at the prison. You better believe if I see Jessie anywhere near him or my kids I’ll throw her out like a farm cat.”

Eric snorted and beamed, “I believe it. I’d love to see you take her down. She’s had it coming for years.”

A soft knock came from the door and Y/N sat up and adjusted her little girl in her arms, “Come in.”

The door slowly opened and her husband came into view and her eyes lit up. Rick came in and walked over to her. Eric smiled at the pair and stood up, “I’m gonna go make sure you guys have everything set up.”

She smiled softly at him as he moved to the doorway, “Thank you.”

Eric nodded and shut the door behind him. Rick had changed into new clothes and cleaned up his beard now. He came and sat at her side on the bed, “You feelin okay darlin?”

She nodded and leaned against his shoulder, “About as good as you can be after pushing a baby out of you.”

Rick chuckled in response and she met his eyes. Rick cupped her face as her eyes lit up teasingly, “Lookin good Sherriff.”

Rick pulled her in and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. After a moment passed they pulled apart and she muttered, “I love you.”

Rick kissed her quickly again and moved back, “I love you too.”

“Wanna hold her?” She asked gently holding her out to Rick.

Rick swallowed nervously and held out his arms and she passed Hope into his arms. Rick let out a shaky laugh as he finally got to hold her. He shared a look of awe with Y/N as he gently rocked her.

She pressed a kiss to Rick’s jaw with a smile, “You’re a natural.”

Rick smiled, his eyes staying on his youngest, “Comes with practice.”

The pair were silent for awhile as they watched their daughter. Y/N let out a shaky breath and leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder, “Who isn’t here?”

The silence was palpable between them as she pressed a kiss to Rick’s shoulder, “I- I just need to know, please.”

Rick nodded, keeping his eyes on their youngest, “Beth. She escaped with Daryl, but she got kidnapped by a group in Atlanta. We almost got her back, but she got killed before we could leave.”

Y/N swallowed back her tears and pressed her head into his shoulder and squeezed his arm, “Y’know no one would ever blame you for that, right? You tried your best and that’s all you can do sometimes.”

Rick nodded silently before pressing a kiss to her head. Y/N reached out to brush her finger over Hope’s soft cheek. Rick leaned back and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and held his daughter with the other, “Anything we need to know about here?”

Y/N sighed heavily, “They’re weak. These people never learned how to survive outside the walls, because they never had to. Deanna understands what the world is and usually lets me call the shots when it comes to anything outside the walls.”

“Any pushback?” Rick said as he gently rocked Hope.

Y/N scoffed at his words, “Yeah, just a bit.”

“Anyone I need to kill?” Rick joked dryly, his arm tightening around her.

“Not yet. Deanna’s son, Spencer, is a liability. He doesn’t appreciate that I completely changed their tactics for runs, even if it was getting people killed. Spencer and his friend Nicholas are pretty much all talk, but they’re not shy about opposing anything I say. Oh, and watch out for Jessie,” She said leaning further into Rick’s chest, annoyance filling her while thinking about the town home wrecker.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her change in demeanor. He gently lifted her chin so she would meet his gaze. Despite having just given birth to their child, she still felt a pang of insecurity claw at her heart. Rick held her chin gently in his hand as his intense blue eyes met hers, “I have killed people to protect you. I would kill anyone to keep this family safe. You are the only woman I will ever want. Tell me you know that.”

Y/N smiled somewhat bashfully at his words. Those words would have terrified her in the world before it fell, but now it was a declaration of the highest love. She nodded and pressed her lips to his. It was almost as if no time had ever passed as they fell back into a routine with one another.

She pulled away breathlessly and met Rick���s expectant gaze. She let out a breath, “I know.”

Rick nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Hope cooed and stretched her arms out with a yawn. A knock sounded out and Rick moved the the door, his youngest cradled securely in his arms. He opened the door and then Carl stepped in with Judith on his hip. Y/N burst into tears at the sight of her daughter. Judith reached out her arms as she saw her, “Momma.”

Carl came over and sat next to his mom and Y/N was quick to take her into her arms. She pressed a kiss to Judith’s head, “Oh, babygirl I missed you so much.”

Judith clutched onto her shirt and snuggled into her mom. Y/N rubbed Judith’s back with one hand and reached over and pulled Carl into a tight hug. Carl sighed and leaned into his mom’s embrace. She pressed a kiss to the side of Carl’s head, “Thank you for keeping him alive.”

She and Carl shared a look of understanding as they pulled away. Rick came over, looking like a true dad with Hope in one arm and his other hand tucked in his jean pocket. Y/N wiped her tears and sat Judith on her lap as Rick came and sat next to her. She looked around at her family and smiled, “I don’t believe in god, but thank whoever the hell is in charge up there that brought y’all back to me.”

Rick smiled and kissed the side of her head, “Damn right.”

Then a knock came from the door and Maggie popped her head in. Maggie rushed over to Y/N as the rest of the group followed in. Y/N swore she’d cried all of her tears, but each hug she gave to the members of the group brought on a new onslaught.

After each member of the group had been properly introduced to their daughter Rick stood off in the corner. He looked around the room, Hope settled safely in the crook of his arm. This was the happiest he’d seen the group in years.

Carl had yet to move from Y/N’ side, as Judith happily sat on his lap playing with her mom’s hand. Rick was certain he had never seen Y/N look so beautiful. She was beaming as she talked to Glenn and Maggie, despite the fact that she’d given birth hours earlier.

“She’s just like Lil Ass Kicker.”

Rick chuckled as Daryl came to his side. He looked down at his daughter lovingly and sighed, “This is what we fight for. Everythin we do is for everyone in this room.”

Daryl made a noise in agreement, “We keep going for shit like this.”

Rick met his wife’s eyes and she was quick to shoot him a wink, before she turned and pulled Carl closer to her into a hug. He sighed, his heart feeling full for the first time in months. Herschel had told him years ago that every day was a choice.

He would to choose to keep his family in the room safe everyday for the rest of his life. No matter what it cost.

#the walking dead imagines #the walking dead #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x pregnant! reader #Rick grimes x pregnant!reader #twd x reader #twd x pregnant!reader

[nyxindustries]

Want It Need it | Rick Grimes

Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV show)

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Reader, X reader insert, Rick Grimes X Y/n, Rick Grimes x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT SMUT, Sexual intercourse, Rough sex, Kinky sex, Name calling “degradation” (if you really squint), Oral Sex, Explicit language and Explicit Sexual Content, Soft Dom! Rick Grimes, Sub! Reader.

Word Count: 2000+

| Masterlist |

When the apocalypse happened, you were just 20 years old. You were scared out of your mind then you meet a group, a pretty awesome group on the way.

Getting stable at the prison and everyone getting ready to go on hunt. You were the youngest adult only at 23 years old.

You looked up to the group leader whose Rick Grimes. He’s quite amaizng to you and he had his downfalls and ups but that made him human and a better leader.

Walking around the prison as you saw Glenn and Maggie.

"Hey love birds!" You say and Maggie chuckled as he hands you your supply bag.

"What? Wanna join?" Maggie jokes and you laugh.

"Oh! Don’t tempt me with a good time!"

You say and she laughs as Glenn rolls his eyes playfully at you

"No no no I like it the way it is!" Glenn adds on and you laugh more as you smile.

"Thanks for my bag Maggie" you say and she nods as she began walking away with Glenn.

Throwing your bag over your shoulder as you pull your tank top down to adjust your ripped black pants as you saw Rick in your view.

Hearing Daryl rev his bike up and you wave to him.

"Hey pretty little lady!" Daryl yells and you laugh.

"Oh Good morning pretty boy" you say and Daryl smiled as he walks up to you, feelings eyes on you, looking around and saw Rick staring at you then looking away.

"You know keep calling me that people are gonna think some things…" Daryl says as he takes the cigarette from his lips as he grabs a wrench and sits on the concrete floor.

Sitting on the bike as Daryl looks up at you with a smirk.

"Hey be careful"He says and you nod

"I will be or what? Mad I can’t ride you like this" you say jokingly not noticing that Rick was right behind you.

"Oh whoa. I’m- Did I interrupt something?" Rick voice says, scaring the hell out of you, which made Daryl laugh as you turn to Rick, instantly getting off the bike.

"Oh no! You didn’t! I was just joking!" You say and Rick nods as he smirks at you.

"Council meeting happening in cell block B in 10. Be there." Rick says and you nod as you look at Daryl as he puts his tools down.

"Somethin’ happen." Daryl says as you watch Rick walk away, the council got created with original members like yourself, Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Herschel, Maggie and Glenn and Carol. You were all the trusted ones to Rick especially after his wife died. Rick leaned on you the most even though you couldn’t or knew how it felt to lose the love of your life. Right after that the Woodbury attack and taking in refugees along with people that survived. It became a community and quite large one.

Walking with Daryl inside the cell block as you saw Tyreese and few other people you learned to trust and love like family along. Hugging Tyreese and Sasha as they smile at you, then frendily waving to Bob and everyone else you passed.

You are quite known probably because of your smile and go lucky attitude. You felt like even tho the world ending and everyone losing something and hurting like you are, you have to be something to one of these peopl. So you smiled and let people trust you to them feel better and to laugh, your great leader when need to be. You took care of the children in the camp as well either giving up your rations for them or going out their way of playing with them.

You couldn’t help shake those lingering eyes especially when you talked to people especially like Tyreese or Daryl, even with Glenn and Maggie, those eyes that would burn holes into the back of head would watch and then stop once you stop talking to them. You never figured it who or what it was. It’s been happening lately and made on guard too.

Going to the cell block as it’s completely empty besides the council members.

"Finally the two of you arrived" Maggie says and you stick tongue out at her childish making Daryl laugh as you sit down.

"Okay, We have problem lately we’ve sending too many groups out and a lot of people aren’t coming back…We’ve tried using our strongest member abut a lot of you guys can handle so much. We barley have crops, there not growing." Rick says and everyone quiet.

"How about we do rotation of 5 once a week and if need to be Twice a week. It could be me , Daryl, Maggie and Glenn and Sasha for an example and we go out for thre week. We all trust each other and we all work together and we’ll know we will make it back alive….Next week a different group and so on…So we don’t use up all our good people to survive." You say and everyone looks at you.

"For the crops, I could help with that Rick, I grew up on a farm and my daddy loved growing his own food, I know few tricks." You say and Rick nods.

"I’ll take you up on the help and that’s good idea but we should plan that out more and see who works well with each other if we’re gonna do rotations like that for supply runs." Rick says and you agree.

"Oh what about the water source? It hasn’t been the greatest. The water been murky and brown and we’re all getting really thirsty lately." Carol adds on and Daryl sighs.

"I’ll got cheek out the creek nearly by and see if anything happened there and the rain water sprout too. " Daryl says and you nod.

"I can help with that too. Before the end of the world I was a Engineer major in college…I could fix something up for the rain water and add a homemade purifier if I get the right supplies. I did do the water lines we have with what we been showering and see the system their working on." You say and Glenn smiles

"I can totally help you that, Miss.Smarty Pants. I help build that system so most definitely can help."Glenn says and you nod in agreement.

"Great. We head out to the creek tomorrow then." Daryl adds on as he places his hand on your knee and you instantly felt eyes burning into you. It made you look and seeing Rick staring directly at you, making you nervous to swallow right now, it brought shivers to you.

This is what you’ve been feeling since you got here and meet Rick and this group. You thought it was Daryl at first but no.

"Yeah sounds good." You mutter out to Daryl

"Any other matter we need to deal with?" Maggie asks and Rick shakes his head and walks away without another word or a missed beat in his steps.

"Great. I’ll check the water today and see what it looks like and let you guys knows." Carol says and you nod as you began walking away with Glenn Maggie and Daryl.

"Does Rick seem to be acting werid today?" You ask quietly to them and they simply shake their head "no".

-2 months later-

You fixed the water supply but it’s still a work in progress and the crops are growing pretty good especially now that’s it’s into the warmer months. After the few tricks you showed Rick it’s been golden especially with the warmer seasons head now.

It’s late night and everyone turning in for the night at the moment.

Seeing Rick walk up to you, making you smile Rick and yourself got considerably close to each other within the past couple months especially helping him and Carl with the crops.

"Hey Rick." You say and he smiled at you.

"It’s getting late. Why are you still out here?" He asks and you nod as you look off as he stand next to you.

"I’m taking Sasha shift as gaurd tonight…she wants to spend some time with Tyreese and talk to him about what happened with the supply run." You spoke quietly making Rick nods.

" yeah that’s good. That’s good." Rick says and you nod.

"I want to talk to you about something…private." He says and you nod.

"Okay, now?" you ask and Rick nods, you can tell he’s nervous about something.

"Yeah what is it?" You ask Ri k shakes his head a she pulls you along heading towards the guard tower that’s not destroyed and where people keep watch.

"Whoa Rick clam down" you say as still pulls you along as you and him get into the guard tower. Looking at the empty gaurd tower as look at Rick now.

"Why did you drag me all the way I’ve there?" You and and Rick just stared at you.

"Are you with Tyreese ?" he asks and you stare at him in shock.

"With Ty? What do you mean by that?" You ask confused and very concerned for Rick at the way he’s talking and walking back and fourth.

"Are you fucking Tyreese?" He asks and you stare at him with a blank face.

"No! No I’m not! In what world did you get that from?" You ask

"Just wondering you and him pretty close to each other like you do everyone other guy in the camp." Rick says and you gasp

"Are you calling me a sl-" You ask him.

"No no no no no" Rick shakes his head, you can tell thoughts are just flooding his head and he’s doesn’t know how to deal. Rick wiping his face as he licked his lips glancing at you.

"Rick what’s wrong with you? Talk to me" You ask as you grab onto him making Rick look at you. Rick grabbing your face roughly as he kisses you softly.

Being frozen in spot as you felt his lips, your heart beating in your chest.

Slowly kissing him back as you grab his face as he kissed you more passionately and his hands traveled down to your ass squeezing tightly.

"Is this okay?" He asks pulling away slightly from your lips and all you could do is grab his face.

"It’s perfect." You say and kiss him more making him push you against the watch tower wall.

Rick taking your shirt off and kissing your breasts softly as he snaps your bra off with one hand.

Rick staring at your breasts as all he could do is smile making you blush in return. "You’re so fucking beautiful." He whispers to you.

His mouth meets them quickly marking them with his teeth and hard sucks on them.

Rick hands going down to your belts loops as he toys with them as he kisses you softly. His hand slipping underneath your pants reaching your pussy as his mouth quickly switched to one breast and the other.

Rick slowly pushing his two fingers in you making moan softly. Rick smirk even more as he pulls your panties down and lifts one of your legs onto his shoulders, placing you tighter between him and the wall of the watch tower.

"Fuck!" You moan out as Rick began thrusting his fingers quickly and his mouth meet with your clit quickly too.

His mouth to your pussy, licking your wetness in long thick strips. Finding his hair once more and pulling softly. He kissed around the clit, his licks sending you pleasure. Rick pulling you closer as he flicks and licks you in the areas most pleasurable areas, you didn’t know existed on you.

"Fuck fuck fuck, RICK!…please…please" You moan out loudly as your back arch more away from the wall as you grip Rick hair tighter as he began moving his finger again as he suck on your clit.

You weren’t sure how much you can take of this. You never felt anything this and knowing it’s the man you been in love with for months, making you feel this, sent you over the edge.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." Rick growls as he pulls away slightly from you and all you can do is just babble and moan due to the pleasure.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you breathing hitched and all you can do is yell "I’m cumming." Making Rick start thrusting his fingers even more in you. Rick lifting away from in between your legs as he lick his lips with a satisfied smirk. Staring at him with heavy breathing as he smiles at you.

"On the floor now." He says and you simply nod.

Rick smirking as he watched get the ground and that’s when you realized their bunch of blankets and you smirk softly, looking towards Rick.

The fucker planned this.

Getting in your knees in front of him as you began undoing Rick buckle as you lick your lips.

"Look at you…no more Ms.innocent anymore." Rick chuckles

"I never said I was innocent" you giggle out with a smirk on your face, that just make Rick stop you and push you to the blankets.

Rick getting onto of you with a wide smirk now as you wrap your legs around his waist. Rick kissing you softly as michevous shined in your eye.

Rick giving the same look back as he positions himself perfectly and slowly pushes in you.

"Fuck….Shit, Rick!" You groan out Rick thrusting his cocks in you slowly and he quickly picked up pace.

Moaning as Rick hand went to your throat and began choking you slowly making you moan out more the best you can as you felt Rick other free hand smack your breasts lightly.

Rick pulling out quickly as he flips you so easily onto your stomach, pulls your arms to your back, holding them in place as he slips his cock back into you and starts slamming into you now.

Rick slamming into you, as you began moving your hips with him, moving together with him as she slams in you.

"Fuck baby! You feel so good." Rick groans as he lands a solid slap on your ass making you jump in pain and pleasure but god you loved it. Rick landing few more hard slaps on your ass making your ass red and sore now.

"Please more." You moan out as Rick slapped your ass more before he grabs your hips and pulls onto his cock harder and began slamming into you as the noises of meeting your skin were loud and filled the tower.

Clenching around Rick as he knew your so close. You felt it bubbling up in your lower stomach.

"Fuck fuck!" You scream out as Rick pulling out again as you whimper at the lost of his cock.

Until Rick flips you again on your back.

"I want to see your face while you take all my cum." Rick utters out as his hand went back to your throat squeezing your throat just the way you like it, cutting abit of airflow, making smile slightly in response.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" You scream out now, clenching tightly around Rick cock now.

"Come on baby. You can do it. Cum for me baby." He says as he slams harder and faster.

Nodding with each thrust as your arms wrap around Rick and pull him close to your chest as your legs wrap around him.

Rick groaning as he kisses your neck gently. Your legs began getting more shakey as you began cumming all over Rick dick but that didn’t stop him.

"Did I tell ya to cum?" He says in your ear sending almost chills down your spine but it went straight to pussy as you shake your head submissively.

"Say it." Rick growls at you.

"No you didn’t." You say and Rick nods.

"Mhm you’re right about that." He says as he began slamming into making your grip the blankets tighter, but he soon stops as he flips you again to your stomach.

Lifting your ass as he shoved his dick back into you as he grabs our hair and pulls your head back to his shoulder as his hand reached around for your neck as he squeezes watching your face contort in more pleasure.

Becoming a Moaning mess and sensitive as you can tell Rick close as he slams into you, his cock twitching in you as he now hits your g spot, sending you over again. Cumming against his cock again as you felt warm cum in you, making you smile as Rick slowly pulls out.

"Fuck that amazing." He says and you nod as Rick pulls out and lays next you, pulling you close.

"I needed that for months." You say and Rick nods in agreement.

"Me too baby."

"And I would love to do it again." He says and you nod in agreement as you felt his cum drip out of you.

"Oh me too. I could go for another round" he says and you nod.

"Don’t tempt me baby." He says and you laugh as you kiss him slowly getting onto of him.

"Seriously the whole prison gonna hear us now." He says making you laugh as you kiss his neck softly.

#fanfic #fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead fic #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rickgrimesedit #rick grimes smut #x you smut #smut with plot #smut with feelings #hardcore smut #smut #smut warning #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd #writing #twd rick

[littlegodzilla]

Well after a few days, we have here the next chapter!

Hope you'll like it!!

************************

Our Story.

Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Part 15.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Slow Burn. Fluff. Sickness. Little Angst.

Words: 3000

Summary: Daryl needs to find a cure. He can't lose you.

*********************

Chapter 15. Flu.

If things aren't going well in D block, things are starting to get out of control in C. Two murdered bodies have been found, dragged out of the cells and burned. Tyreese can't believe something like that could have happened, they don't murder innocent people there. Karen tries to calm him down, to make him understand that they might have been infected and that someone had decided to stop the spread. Rick also wants to dissuade him, but he charges at him and Daryl like a rampaging bull.

"Ty, stop it!" The woman yells at him. "There's no time for this! Our people are suffering!" She scolds him. "I'm going with Daryl to get the medicines we need. You do whatever you want." She berates him and then walks out, leaving the three men alone.

It hurts Karen to see him like this and she understands that he is scared, but this world is like that now, everyone have to be prepared for everything and if they have to kill or give rest to some comrade, it's better that than seeing them become one of those things. 

"We have to get moving Rick, we can't wait any longer." Daryl says looking at his partner. "I'll ask Caleb for the list and leave with four more." He assures him, he nods.

"Well, I'll... I'll stay here and keep an eye on the others."

"Be careful."

"You too." He slaps him on the back and they leave, taking Tyreese with him.

*******************

"It's just fatigue." Caleb says to a woman who has gone to the infirmary that morning. "We're doubling shifts and the fatigue is taking its toll on all of us. Drink some water and try to rest, you'll see how the headache goes away, otherwise come back and see me." He asks her, the woman nods and leaves.

You are cleaning the utensils on the other side, you feel a little hot and your hands are shaking, but you are so nervous about everything that is happening, that your symptoms are a product of your own anxiety.

"I'm going to get something to eat and water, do you want anything?"

"Yes, thank you." You reply in a whisper.

"Are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.

"Yeah, it's nothing, too much work." You try to calm him down, smile warmly at him.

"You're not well." He moves closer to you. "Look at me."

"No..." You whisper, but Caleb grabs your chin and sees that your eyes are watery and slightly yellowed.

"You're infected."

"No, I'm just tired, I'm just..."

But you can't finish the sentence, you collapse and fall on top of him, Caleb holds you firmly touching your forehead, you're burning up, even sweating copiously, he curses himself for not noticing sooner and grabs you in his arms, he has to get you out of there before you infect someone else. Caleb pulls you out of the infirmary, you come to your senses a little wanting him to let go, but you lean against him because you feel like you can't handle the weight of your body. As you enter the cell area, the rest of the group is there.

"What?" Daryl makes an attempt to approach you, but you raise your hand.

"No, stay away..."

"We're going to D block."

"No, no, no..." He denies repeatedly, Daryl.

"She's with the first symptoms, we can still control it, but we've been exposed, so it'll be better if we're both in the ward."

"I'll take her." He walks back towards you.

"Daryl, no, you could catch it, I could..." He tries to talk some sense into him, Caleb, but Daryl pushes him away and gently takes you in his arms.

"Daryl, don't..." You don't even have the strength to stop him, you lean against his chest as you hear him growl again.

"Take me to the ward, I'll hold her." He says carrying you in his arms.

"If you go in there you won't be able to get out."

"Nah, I'll go back out, I'll go get the meds."

"Daryl, we can't risk..."

"I said I'll go!" He barks and you're even scared, but you don't have the strength to open your eyes. "Ain't gonna waste my time talkin' to ya. Let's go all the way to the pavilion."

Daryl walks in with you in his arms all the way to Block D, there are a lot of people there settled already, some have really advanced symptoms, others are just starting to get sick, Caleb was taking care of them from a distance, but now that he has been exposed to you, he has to stay in there too. You discover that Hershel is also inside, trying to alleviate the symptoms with a natural infusion, it seems to help, but it is not definitive. Daryl gently sets you down in one of the cells, on one of the beds you brought from Woodbury. He kneels down next to you and brushes a few strands of hair away from your forehead, sweat starting to reflect on your skin from your fever.

"Don't we have anything to calm her condition a bit?" He asks Caleb and he denies.

"We've run out of resources, only what Hershel is giving them..." He hones in and Daryl snorts.

"I'll go up to that faculty, I'll pull everything I can find, I just need the names."

"She gave you a list, that's all I need."

"Fine..."

"Daryl, you can't go out... it's quite possible that you too..."

"I'm goin' out, and I'll kill anyone who wants to stop me." he assures him, a completely dark, dangerous edge shining in his gaze. Caleb instinctively backs away and steps out of the cell. Daryl looks back at you and strokes your cheek. "I'm gonna get that medicine... I promise I'll be back, this time without lies." He speaks in whispers. "Ya gotta hold on... ya have to wait for me, 'kay?" he chews his lip several times and sighs. "I came back for ya...'cause this is where I belong...hold on...don't..." He swallows trying to calm himself. "Don't go where I can't follow you..." He asks you and bows, he knows it might be dangerous and stupid, but he doesn't care, he kisses your forehead and gets up walking out of there, closing the cell door.

*****************

Daryl gathers a small team of four; Michonne, Bob, Karen and Tyreese. The latter is still a little affected by what happened to your companions, he still wants to find who killed and burned those people, but he understands that it is more important to save the people who are getting sick, otherwise there will be more dead and life in prison will be unsustainable. Karen accompanies him to give him moral support, so that he doesn't fall again, in a way she has become his lifeline, which keeps him sane in that shitty world.

They fill the car with their backpacks, some supplies and weapons, the archer is especially silent, his brow furrowed tightly, his jaw tense and his fists clenched. His mind works at a thousand per hour plotting the most effective and quickest plan, he can't waste any more time, every second that passes you are agonizing in that place. Not only you, all your people.

"Come on." Michonne says to him pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, let's not waste any more time."

He nods, they all set off, Rick approaches wanting to say something to him, but the archer dodges him, getting straight into the car, the doors open and he accelerates getting on the road.

The route is not complicated, they have done it on more than one occasion, it should be clean, but they find traces of someone who tried to flee through there and things did not go well, attracting a good amount of Walkers with them. The car is surrounded, they need to find another way out. Daryl and Michonne quickly get out of the vehicle making their way out, the rest follow them, getting rid of the pursuers, covering each other's backs. There are too many of them but they manage to get rid of them in the woods, being able to ambush them, minimizing their noise to throw them off. They move on automatic, looking for another solution, some vehicle that could be of use to them.

"How are you?" Michonne asks Daryl in a whisper, he just grunts low as he keeps walking. "Daryl..."

"Gotta keep going." Is all he says, quickening his pace.

Not far away they find a small garage where there is a car covered by the leafy branches of a vine that tries to hide it from the eyes of curious onlookers. It doesn't seem to be in bad shape, they could take it to get to the college that Hershel had told them about. 

"Let's search in several groups." Daryl says when they finally reach the building. "The main thing is what's on these lists." He hands several of them to his classmates. "But take everything you see useful that can fit in the backpacks."

Everyone knows what they should do, Daryl feels his heart pounding in his ears, something tightens in his stomach every time he remembers your state in that cell, so weak, so small. He has never seen you like this. He needs to stop for a moment, his hands are shaking, his nervousness is getting the better of him.

"We're going to get to save them." He hears Bob's voice next to him. "They're in good hands and we're going to get reinforcements to them."

"You think so?" He looks at Bob pursing his lips. "Because it doesn't look like it."

"I know you're worried about your girl, but we're already here, we just need to get everything and get back."

His girl. 

Something feels strange in his stomach, he stares at the man he has in front of him, he chews his lip so hard he's afraid he'll split it. Bob seems to be waiting for a response, there's a smile meant to relax him plastered on his face, but Daryl doesn't feel any calmer. Not at all.

"Let's keep looking." He growls walking away from the man who is amused by the way Daryl dodges conversation.

His girl.

************************

The continuous coughing around you makes you wake up little by little. Something cold and wet brushes against your forehead. When you finally manage to open your eyes, you discover that Sasha is beside you, wiping your sweat with a damp cloth.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" you whisper in a weak voice.

"Looks the same to me as you." You smile, she doesn't look good either, but she's more lucid than other companions. "Here, Hershel told me to have this."

"What's Hershel doing here?"

"That's a good question, that old man is stubborn and tough as fuck." She jokes.

You feel the laughter clawing at your throat, it deflates your lungs and you cough loudly leaving a burning sensation in your chest. Sasha looks at you with an amused smile and rubs your back gently, handing you the tea.

"That man is going to outlive us all." You say confidently and she nods. "Where's Daryl?"

"He's out, With Michonne and Tyreese." She explains. "Hershel told them there was a vet school nearby and they've gone to get meds."

"Right... but he came in here with me..."

"He hasn't let anyone stop him." She gives you an intense look and then nudges you a little.

"I came back for you."

"Don't go where I can't follow you."

You feel goosebumps rise on your skin. Those words coming back into your head, Daryl's raspy voice rattling your brain. You were half asleep when the archer said that to you, surely he thought you were unconscious and took advantage of that moment of intimacy. Your cheeks redden and your friend keeps watching you. Since they arrived at the prison you've always felt comfortable with her, not only her, you consider Michonne, Carol and Maggie good friends too, but now Sasha is there and you can't run away from her gaze.

"Daryl just cares about all of us."

"Yes, that's true, but it's different with you. He almost hit Caleb because he wouldn't let him near you."

A soft chuckle escapes you, lowering your gaze. That sounds like Daryl, but you're sure he'd do it for any of you there, you're not special, maybe you know each other better and he has more familiarity with you, but he's taken care of and brought a lot of those people there, so they're important to him too.

"Why is it so hard for you guys to accept that?" Sasha's question confuses you.

"Accept what?"

"That you have feelings for each other." She shrugs. "I understand that memories are always there, but... it's like we've all started from scratch."

"That's not what this is about, I've always loved Daryl, but not like that, I didn't..." Coughing stops you from continuing to speak, you cough violently and drink from the tea once more. Sasha also has a small coughing fit and Hershel walks over to your cell.

"You two had better get some rest."

"No, we're fine..." Sasha denies and the man sighs under his white beard.

"Okay, then help me with these people. They're worse off."

Even though you have the strength to talk and move, you still feel your bodies quite weak, you carefully walk out of your cell to help Hershel. Things have gotten much worse since last time. The symptoms are getting worse with speed, Carol is in charge of getting people in there, Rick, Carl and Sophia take care of those who are not sick, they keep the prison protected from the Walkers crowding the fence.

Caleb has locked himself in his own cell, too sick, not trusting that he can be of any use, Glenn is lying in another bed and....

Glenn?

You peek into his cell, he's pretty bad, he's struggling to breathe, but he's keeping himself alive, you're surprised to see him there, Maggie must be a complete nervous wreck. However, you have hope, if they've gone out to get more medication, you know they'll be back, they'll accomplish their mission, you just have to hold on. You touch Glenn's forehead to check his fever and wipe away the sweat with a damp cloth to try to give him some relief.

"Just hang in there a little longer." You tell him in a whisper.

**********************

Things have gotten complicated at the college, the infected have surrounded them, they have managed to escape and Daryl with the others have had to come up with a new plan to be able to get out of there unharmed. There are nerves and desperation, everyone wants things to go well, to return home, that no one else dies. But Daryl goes into a rage when Bob tries to retrieve his backpack and discovers that there is only a bottle of liquor in it. He clenches his teeth so hard he feels he can break them, he's tempted to smash the bottle into a thousand pieces, but Bob's gesture of wanting to hold his gun makes him even angrier. Daryl walks towards Bob threateningly and collides with him.

"You better hope our people survive on the medicines we've gotten... or I'll beat yer ass to the ground." He assures Bob with his voice in a growl and hands him back the backpack with the bottle. "Come on." He tells the others as they walk down the small porch in search of the car they've left parked not far from there.

He has to admit that it's the first time he's driven at that speed without being running from something or someone or because Merle is pushing him. But every minute that passes counts and he can't help thinking that the prison is too far away. That they're not going to make it.

"Daryl slow down a little, man." Tyreese asks him.

"There's no time."

"If we get killed on the way nothing will have helped!" Karen tries to make him understand.

"We all want them to recover Daryl, but we have to get there alive." Michonne insists and Daryl slowly slows down.

They are right, he knows they are, he can't do anything crazy, not now when they are so close to achieving their goal. If the car was in an accident because of them they wouldn't make it in time, all those people would die. You would die. And they would be blaming themselves for the rest of their lives.

Still at a high, but not deadly speed, Daryl dodges the dead and the impediments along the way, his gaze fixed straight ahead feeling his heart leap inside his chest as he begins to catch sight of the prison towers.

The gates open before they are even close, there is chaos, something has happened before they will return, one of the parts of the fence has fallen and there are dozens of Walkers lying on the ground, all have been riddled with bullets, but everything seems under control. In reality, Daryl doesn't see much further, he has a target, he can't just stand there. Not now.

"Daryl, wait, Daryl!" Rick tries to call out to him.

But he doesn't listen, he keeps running towards ward D. He's not the only one who has committed this madness, when he enters he discovers that Maggie is there trying to take care of Glenn who doesn't look good either, there are many companions who have been turned and are now lying on the floor, dead, others are struggling between life and death. Caleb has succumbed, Sasha is between consciousness and unconsciousness, but is safe.

"Hershel!" He shouts in search of the man who immediately appears to meet him.

"Help me administer the doses." He asks him as they rummage through the backpacks for everything they need.

"Where is she?"

"Stabilizing others who are worse off, she's weak, but she's strong." He assures, Daryl nods, feeling his hands shake as he opens one of the vials. "Here, go with her." Hershel says handing him the exact dose you need. "Have her take it and rest, the worst is over."

"Th-thanks." He gasps seeing the man smiles warmly and gets up running to find you.

He finds you several cells away, you were helping a woman breathe with an air pump, but you've fallen to the floor, completely exhausted. Daryl trusts Hershel's words, you're feeling weak, but you are strong, you still have things left to live for. He quickly enters the cell and holds you in his arms. His hands won't stop shaking, he needs a moment to take a deep breath and calm down, he can't help you if he's shaking like a flan. He swallows and leans your head back, putting the pills in your mouth.

"Come on, woman, help me, you have to take these." He asks giving you a few very gentle touches on your cheek. "Come on, don't make me do it by force..." It's a threat, but at the same time he feels goosebumps rise on his skin.

You frown slightly, lifting your head slightly as you try to swallow what's in your mouth, but your mouth and throat are dry and you struggle, Daryl reaches for his canteen pouring some water into your mouth.

"Slowly, slowly." He whispers without letting go of your hold.

"Daryl?" you whisper his name in a trickle.

"I'm here, girl, I'm back." He smiles seeing you, still tired, fall asleep in his arms again.

**********

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To be continued...

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Hope you liked it!!

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Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69 @phoenixblack89

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #mine #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #series #eventual smut #fluff and romance #friends to lovers #drama #angst #love #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x wife #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x wife #daryl dixon x reader #daryl twd #slow burn

[aliidarling]

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.” 

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

#Spotify #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead smut

[lazyneonrabbitt]

MarchWeres NSFW prompt

Breeding

Daryl Dixon x Reader | SMUT 🔞

You stood across from each other, coming down from the most love filled kiss you ever shared.

Your first kiss as husband and wife.

The gathered people cheered for you and for once Daryl didn't shy away from showing affection. His hands were snaked around your waist and his forehead rested against yours as his breaths came out in soft growls.

You know what you promised him. You'd marry the human way on the day of the full moon, and he'd get to make you his the werewolf way afterwards. You thought afterwards would be late at night, but now that you felt his claws on the plump of your ass and his eyes glowed bright blue it was clear the beast wasn't gonna wait that long.

Rick and Carol, your chosen two to stand with you picked up on Daryl's tells and sternly announced to everyone it was time to leave.

Luckily most of the folks there had been in Daryl's life long enough and knew, so the place quickly cleared out and only you and Daryl remained as Rick closed the doors behind him.

With the click of the lock Daryl's human side gave into the change and tore through the newly scavenged clothes as he took on his shifted form.

You quickly backed up but kept watching as he quickly came to and stared at you with nothing but hunger.

He gave you no chance to back up further as large clawed hands grabbed at your waist. One moved up and raked its claws through the fabric of the once expensive dress you wore and exposed your upper body, only for him to pull your torso against his open maw. His bottom canines pierced your skin just above the swell of your breast as his jaw clamped shut around your shoulder, the skin on your back breaking under his teeth as well.

He held on but lowered himself along with you when your legs gave out. He made quick work of taking your clothes off your body, leaving nothing intact.

Once you were bare he pulled his maw off you, lapping at the puncture wounds you'd be wearing as scars on your skin for the rest of your life.

Daryl made sure you weren't bleeding anymore before he moved you onto your back, his tongue following a path along your breasts, over your stomach he so affectionately pressed his muzzle into before he moved furter down to your hips and finally to your centre. It wasn't for himself he was taking his time with you, but he knew your human self couldn't take his cock easily.

"Daryl.. Go on, please." You had tried to do this with him but he never allowed it and now you were getting impatient real fast.

Daryl heard your plea and wasted no time shoving his tongue all the way down your cunt and letting out a growl. The sudden intrusion and vibrations had you moan and buck your hips against his jaws, it felt so much better than you imagined. Daryl kept tongue fucking you, flicking the muscle over your clit and sliding back inside you until you were clenching your walls and coming on his tongue.

When he came back up the fur on his cin glistened with your slick as he swiped at if with his paw.

The pads of his paw found your clit, rubbing at it while he moved closer to prod the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"Mine." You had never heard him speak in this form before.

"Good momma." He growled right next to your ear as he pushed in bit by bit. Your hands grabbed at his fur, clawing to find purchase as his thick length stretched you. You cried out from the burn, pressing your face against him to muffle your sounds.

While one paw remained on your hip so he could keep thrusting, the other pulled tour face away from him.

"Nah. Wanna hear momma." He kept your back pressed against the floor as his thumb returned to your clit, pulling delicious sounds from you that only spurred him on. "H.. ahh-- m.. momma.."?

It didn't take him long to be fully inside of you, giving you only a short moment to adjust before setting a rough pace. "Hmhm good momma.." His tongue lolled out between his teeth as he panted with each thrust, but his gaze moved from your face down to where he was pushing into you, lifting your hips slightly to give you a good view too.

The sight had you squeeze around him, whining at how full you felt.

"Good momma.." he kept muttering the same words over and over again and you started to worry.

Daryl never mentioned children being a part of his ritual. You only knew of the bite during sex.

Both his paws were on your hips now, your lower body lifted into his lap as he kept up his pace, deliciously painful. You watched him being focused on finishing the job, the knot at the base of his cock swollen and ready to be stuffed into you.

One of your hands moved down and pressed down on your stomach, feeling how deep Daryl was inside of you already. There was no way he was gonna fit it all the way down to the base, right?

..right?

Daryl moved his paw on top of your hand and moved to lap at your neck. The actions were so soft for him, especially like this. He was telling you how much he loved you without speaking. He had done enough of that already while he bred you.

Your one free hand went to stroke his fur as you tried to focus on the soft touches while Daryl worked himself over the edge, the hand on your hip moving to spread your slick over your bundle of nerves and taking away the painful edge of how deep he was pushing into you.

You felt your lips protest, squeezing his length but he kept on pushing in.

His fingers helped you over the edge and on your highest point pushed in hard. You felt him deeper than ever, the pain making you claw at your stomach for relief but nothing helped as the bliss of your orgasm quickly faded with Daryl's still rutting hips, pumping you full of his seed.

Daryl let out a noise close to a purr when he relaxed above you. "Momma. Good momma." His large paw rubbed the softest circles on your belly, he wanted this more than anything in the world.

"Love momma." He murmured against your cheek as he lapped at your tears and blissfully nuzzled into you.

You presssed your cheek against his muzzle.

"Yeah. Good mommy. I'll try my best."

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