#rick what was your thinking behind this decision? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsandsweetness · 10 months

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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

(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

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cultofdixon · 4 months

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Only you understand

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • There’s only one person on Daryl’s good side and it’s not even his brother. So when certain decisions led to leaving Merle chained to a roof, you were the one to talk to the youngest Dixon • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Unprotected Sex / Groping / Grinding • TW: Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

She’s heard it all

Y/N I could use a favor?

Got a second Y/N?

Mind talking to them, Y/N?

Sweetheart, can I pick your ear about something?

It all falls around the same thing. Asking the Dixon Brothers for anything…mainly for help acquiring food within the woods that the sickos haven’t taken for themselves. But they did everything she asked. Some thought it was because Merle would do anything and everything for her attention even if she doesn’t give him an ounce of anything.

But it’s really Daryl. Y/N is the only one that the youngest Dixon brother tolerates and some, more like Glenn alone, believes the Dixon likes her personally.

“Y/N…we need yea for something” Dale didn’t mean to disturb the girl when she was in the middle of another batch of squirrels she was skinning to prepare for the stew.

“Dale. This must be serious” Y/N half jokes as she wipes her knife off with her rag. “You’re usually not the one to ask me for help”

“Right well, you know the drill” Dale frowns removing his bucket hat and squeezing it out of nervous habit. “This isn’t gonna go well”

“If it’s anything like Daryl and Shane fighting over a little dispute about hunting grounds, I think I can handle—-“

“Lori’s husband came back with the Atlanta group, but they left Merle behind hand cuffed to roof” Dale stated without hesitating or letting Y/N process as she drops everything to go check on Lori for another personal matter that almost everybody knows about before thinking of the words to tell Daryl when he returns from his hunting trip.

When Y/N made herself known to the man that left the eldest Dixon behind as she felt a sense of warmth with the family reunion. But she knew that was going to be cut extremely short if Daryl gets his hands on him.

“You’re the Rick guy?”

“You must be Y/N, the resident Dixon whi—-“

“If you call me that stupid fucking shit that Shane came up with, I will hit you in front of your son” Y/N frowns watching Rick zip his lips to let her get to it. “What’s your plan here?”

“I don’t think I get what you mean” Rick laughs slightly only to immediately stop when it wasn’t getting anywhere with Y/N. “Are you talking about getting Merle back? I think we can do a bit of justice without the racist son of a bitch”

“Oh believe me, I agree wholeheartedly with that. But he’s not your family. I think you can agree that if it were you that got left behind, that you would want someone to come and find you” Y/N watches his expression fall making her cross her arms and stand her ground. “Right. You understand that completely and no one came to bring you back”

“Now that’s uncalled for, Y/N” Shane interrupts only for Y/N to take her leave on that note, picking up her axe from beside the put out fire pit.

“Sit with it, Shane. Call me when you have a plan, I have to try and keep his ass from being killed by the man who’s brother you left on that roof” as Y/N leaves the group to follow a familiar hunting ground to find the archer, Rick was left thinking about what she said.

No one came back for him.

The next day came around and the woods were quiet until they weren’t…

“Stupid fucking shit” Daryl curses under his breath over another deer being eaten by another walker.

As he knelt down to get a look at the damage to see if he could take any of the meat back, he heard a shift in the woods. The archer quickly rose to his feet aiming his crossbow and when the figure didn’t make themselves known, he fired.

Daryl instantly tensed when Y/N made herself known with an annoyed expression at him and the arrow in the tree beside her head.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I should be askin’ yea the same thing!” Daryl scoffs taking the arrow from her hand once she pulled it out. “I could’ve killed yea”

“Yeah well you’d do me a favor” The one thing he hated about her was her joking about death. “You gotta head back”

“Yeah?” Daryl scoffs putting his arrow away. “Ran out of food?”

“No, I’ve given them my squirrels to make a stew out of. But this is more of a matter regarding your idiotic brother”

Why did you give them the food I caught for—-“Wait. Merle? Is he back?”

“Daryl no he—-“ Daryl brushes past Y/N causing her to quickly deflate and follow him back to the campsite.

“Swear, yea think I don’t know they get yeah to talk to me about my idiot brother”

“I mean would you rather have Shane talk to you about Merle? Now Daryl come on. I gotta tell yea—-“ Y/N stops herself when he rose his hand indicating he heard something.

Daryl gave her a quick sign that it was another deer and then Y/N decided to take a second to put the Merle conversation on the back burner.

“They never make it this far up the mountain” Dale frowns staring at the walker that Jim had finished off once the group addressed the children’s screaming.

“They are running out of food in the city” Jim states stepping away from the carcass and the undead beside it.

Before any of them thought of walking back, that’s when the bushes started to rustle some more. Shane instantly readied his shotgun aiming toward the sound until he lowered it along with the others doing the same with their weapons of choice when their resident hunter popped out with the “Dixon whisperer” following behind him.

“Son of a bitch” Daryl scoffs bringing himself over to the deer. “That’s my deer…look at it. All gnawed on by this—“ he quickly kicked the walker out of anger. “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!”

“Daryl, come on” Y/N elbowed him when she brought herself close, giving Rick a certain look to watch his words.

“Think we can—-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Dar. It’s not safe” She pushes him carefully away from the tainted meat as Shane couldn’t agree more but when his voice spoke up, both gave him an annoyed look.

Then it was time.

“Merle!” Daryl calls out brushing passed everyone as both Shane and Rick gave Y/N a confused look.

“What?! You think I can instantly get through to the guy? It’s a conversation not a “oh by the way” type shit like you pigs are used to” Y/N scoffs shoving Shane to catch up to Daryl.

“MERLE! GET YOUR UGLY ASS OUT HERE” Daryl shouts once more, surprised slightly that his idiot brother didn’t instantly come. “I got us some squirrel! Gotta help Y/N skin’em for the stew!”

“Daryl, hold up. I need to talk to you” Shane caught up pushing Y/N aside as that lead her to give Lori a glare on the matter given she knows her hatred for the man. Not that she fully expresses it given what she’s walked on in the woods.

Daryl slowed his movement turning around to the pig watching him hesitate before getting to it.

“There’s been an incident in Atlanta…about Merle”

The tension grew in the space making the archer give his only close friend there a blank expression that she wasn’t giving him any answer from hers.

“He dead?”

“We’re not sure” And that caused the emotions to rise.

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl rose his voice watching the unfamiliar man bring himself over.

“No easy way to say this so I’ll just say it—-“

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes—-“

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocks watching Y/N get closer to the situation. “You’ve got something you want to tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all” Okay… “So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there” Rick states watching Daryl’s rage grow on his face as he takes a step back scoffing slightly with a hint of a chuckle.

“Hold on, let me process this—-“ Daryl laughs with the venom in his tone of voice. “You saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and YOU LEFT HIM THERE?!”

The silent “yeah” that came out of Rick made Y/N wince ahead of time for what was about to happen next. Even if Daryl didn’t land a punch on either ex-cops. It wasn’t until Shane started to get Daryl into a chokehold that she brought herself over clawing at him to let go.

“Nah he’s gotta calm down before I—-“ And without another thought, Y/N punched Shane square in the jaw to let go of Daryl. She quickly caught his knife under her foot to swipe it away from him trying to get a shot on the new comer. “You crazy son of a bitch!” He barked at her as Y/N quickly stood in front of Daryl blocking him from either of the two.

“Chokeholds illegal asshole” Y/N barked back getting up in his face to have him stand back and away from Dixon. “Seriously. You fucking morons”

“You clearly didn’t prepare—-“

“Oh and you fucking did?” Y/N scoffs at Rick bringing herself to Daryl. “You need to let me fucking tell you next time so this wouldn’t happen. Can’t have them being fucking entitled dicks to the only motherfucker that understands me! Jesus.”

The tension only grew within the group as Daryl couldn’t calm the pounding in his chest when she said such.

“He listens. Rick’s gonna go and get him” Lori was quick to add crossing her arms as she wasn’t exactly happy about the situation. “He’ll listen to about anybody but his wife.”

Daryl waited for the group to disperse before bringing himself over to Y/N, taking her by the arm and dragging her slightly to his tent.

“You’re hurting me—-“ Y/N frowns as Daryl lets go quickly giving her a stern look before taking her hand into his to check the bruising from punching Shane. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay—-Sure” Daryl scoffs. “Yea ain’t coming”

“Seriously? How the fuck—-“

“YOU JUST AINT” He snaps a bit too close to her face resulting in a flinch coming from her as Y/N puffed up. “I don’t trust that Grimes guy and I ain’t letting yea near him after the fucking stunt he pulled with Merle”

“I can handle myself, Daryl.”

“Yeah. No shit. But you don’t have’ta” Daryl frowns feeling her presence grow closer to his person as he towered her slightly. “You didn’t have to stand up for me”

“Little too late for that. I just…wanted yea to know what happened from someone who gives a damn.” Y/N took a step back keeping her attention on him as the look in his expression seemed to want more and that drew the pounding in her chest to get louder. “Well find Merle, and whether you like it or not. I’m coming with”

I can’t lose you. Daryl frowns followed by a nod deciding not to argue further with the woman.

But nothing went their way since returning back to Atlanta, even when returning back to the quarry empty handed…

After taking out the herd that swept through the quarry camp, Daryl didn’t hesitate to shove T-Dog out of the way of getting to Y/N. She strayed from the group when returning to take out a few walkers by Carol and her daughter, he didn’t see her until the dust settled and wasn’t about to lose his mind all over again.

“You bit?!”

“No! Are you?” Y/N went to check his person as Daryl tugged her aside from everyone else back to their secluded corner. “Daryl please just answer—-“ she was instantly cut off by his lips smashing into hers, making her drop her axe to bring her hands onto either side of his face. In her mind the timing could’ve been better but neither of them was going to interrupt the moment. “Dar—-“ she breathed when their lips parted a moment.

“Ain’t bit.” He quickly responds with while returning his lips to hers as he drops his crossbow to his side bringing his hands to her hips gripping them.

Y/N tugged back a bit receiving a concerned look from Daryl until she brought her hands to his belt and he got the idea. He helped her get the belt off that led her to work at the buttons while he slipped her shirt off quickly bringing his hands back to her hips tugging her jeans down steadying her to finish removing them. Daryl brought his lips to hers once more before moving to her cheek down to her neck and then her collarbone working his way down while helping her descend along with him.

“Can’t—-“ He exhaled suddenly making Y/N stop her actions until he pressed his forehead against hers. “Can’t lose yea” he sighs feeling her arms snake around his neck while he positioned himself in between her legs towering her on the dirt.

“I’m right here, Dixon” She returned her lips quickly to his as he feverishly kissed her while bringing his hands below the belt to remove her panties along with pushing his pants and boxers further for his cock to spring out.

While Y/N found purchase on the back of his shirt, Daryl started to push his length in inch by inch listening to her gasps as she dug her nails into the fabric bringing her legs around his lower back. He didn’t move right away and waited for her to adjust once he was fully sheathed.

“Y/N—-“

“Please” Her voice shook with anticipation wanting him to move but there was more to it as she brushes her face against his feeling his lips graze her features. “Please tell me it ain’t just me”

“It ain’t just you, sunshine” He exhales, starting to move thrusting inside of her warmth listening to her quiet sounds wishing he could drive them out but didn’t want anyone to interrupt them.

As he picked up the pace, Daryl felt her tighten around him drawing a low growl to escape his lips feeling her bring themselves to his shoulder and bite down when she felt the cord begin to snap.

“Let go for me, sunshine” Daryl begged bringing his lips back onto hers listening to her hum while bucking her hips against his as he moans into her mouth at the feeling of her unraveling. “Fuck—“ he pulls out quickly before he could climax inside of her.

The archer carefully lays on top of her feeling her death grip on his shirt weaken and flatten her hands against his torso. Slowly bringing one of her hands to run through his hair as they both panted softly remaining in the other’s embrace.

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

“I can’t lose yea” Daryl frowns feeling her tighten around him for reassurance.

“You’re stuck with me, Daryl” She laughs softly feeling him shift to rise above her to look at her as she couldn’t help the littlest head tilt wondering more of what’s going on in that mind of his. “What is it?”

“Guess this uh…explains a lot of what I’ve been feelin’ lately” He laughs slightly with her joining.

“Truly, and uhm. I hope this…isn’t the only time and—“

“You’re mine, sunshine. We’re something”

“We’re something” Y/N smiles catching a glimpse of his smile before he started to clean themselves up.

It took them long enough.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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thesoftboiledegg · 5 months

Text

"Mort: Ragnarick" was pure fun, but a different kind of fun than "Rickfending Your Mort" and "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie."

"Rickfending Your Mort" was a laid-back clip show that gave the viewer a break after the insanity of "Unmortricken"--a smart decision but not one with a lot of substance. "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" has been controversial. I thought it was entertaining, but it would've worked better as a YouTube short.

If "Unmortricken" represented lore episodes at their best, "Mort: Ragnarick" was the best of classic Rick and Morty adventures: a wildly imaginative plot, goofy satire, fantasy science and Rick and Morty working together as a duo, reminding us how much they need each other.

Rick's the driving force behind these adventures, but without Morty, he's just a miserable old man trying to distract himself. Morty's the heart and voice of reason. He also gives Rick something to live for. Without him, Beth, Jerry or Summer, why do anything?

Rick pretends to live for science, but "science" just caused decades of grief and isolation. His family isn't a concept; it's an entity that loves him back.

Bigfoot, an evil pope, Pokeballs, Valhalla, clone bodies, infinite energy sources, zombie Summer, Rick screaming "PO-O-O-O-OPE!": only Rick and Morty could combine all those concepts into one cohesive episode. I never thought "Wow, that took me out of the story." The Pokeball came close, but the end credits scene tied it all together.

Jerry's scene was a standout, too. Chris Parnell's reading of "Nana!" was genuinely sweet. It seems like Jerry's becoming a (mostly) willing participant in Rick's schemes instead of a helpless guinea pig. Is Rick learning that releasing his iron grip on his family makes them more attached to him, not less?

I also loved it when the Vikings called Rick a witch. He loves crystals, plays with magic, has two crows as familiars: damn right, he is!

You have to suspend your disbelief a couple of times, mainly when Bigfoot attacks Rick in the kitchen (he crushed Rick earlier like it was nothing, but now Rick walks away with a few scratches?) Still, the little character moments overshadow these flaws.

Judging by old posts that I've seen floating around, I think Rick and Morty's relationship is finally becoming what fans wanted it to be in seasons 1-3. Rick's still mean, but he's less dominant and more of Morty's mischievous co-conspirator. An alien mobster freaking out in "The Jerrick Trap" because of Rick's "touch my grandson and die" policy is straight out of fanon.

Rick's more physically gentle, and Morty responds in kind. He grabs and supports him when Bigfoot attacks him at home and touches his arm during their weird, overdramatic Bigfoot send-off. His pained cry of "Rick!" when Bigfoot nearly crushes him is heart-wrenching. Operation Phoenix is back online, but Morty's tired of watching him die!

Season five is when Rick started showing emotions on his face besides that cold, pissed-off glare--we all know the one--and in season seven, it's accelerated to Rick crying in front of others. He matches Morty's feelings instead of pretending that he's above human emotions.

Needless to say, dudebros have been flooding Adult Swim's Instagram comments and Twitter replies with "Rick and Morty is shit now!" "Rick's too nice!" "Rick and Morty has gone woke!" Justin Roiland's firing gave them more fuel, but they started even while he was still on the payroll.

Their favorite line is "Rick isn't Rick anymore!" And they're right. Rick's not the asshole from seasons 1-2 who had a couple of redeeming qualities. He's not the monster that he was in season three and parts of season four. He's not the defeated man in season five who started to realize that he's hurting people but still wanted Morty to look after him like a child.

Season six is when he started to grow up--not a lot, but enough that he began taking on adult responsibilities instead of thinking he's a teenage boy who sees another teenager as his peer. I wish we saw more therapy appointments, but while they're mostly off-screen, we're definitely seeing the effects.

This doesn't make Rick a great person or atone for what he's done. Some of his crimes are beyond atonement, and not just the obvious ones like blowing up planets. This is a universe where everyone has a body count and events that should've destroyed Earth have no effect on civilization. Death and destruction don't mean that much.

His worst crimes are the personal ones: destroying Morty's psyche in "The Vat of Acid Episode," treating his family like garbage for most of season three. You can't atone for that. You can't apologize for that.

However, I don't only judge characters by their past. I judge them by their capacity to change.

Walter White is a brilliant character, but he's not a personal favorite because his arc is a slow descent into hell. Rick's slowly climbing out of his crater, and while it doesn't erase the past, it's still happening. For me, that's more satisfying than watching a monster become a bigger monster.

Of course, he's still not above cosplaying as Odin while wearing a golden crown that literally says "GOD." But the former "no girls allowed" alpha male has become a dedicated therapy patient who's also a thirst object that would make bros cry about double standards. Sure, Rick, you're a god, now put on that weird half-shirt and prance around a little.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #review #mort: ragnarick #season seven

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 month

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Words: 9,001 (yeah, she's a beast!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria S9, post-Negan war, before the bridge Warnings: language (duh, it’s me), violence (no sexual violence), injuries to main character, blood, some kind of dark Saviors shit (not like line-up level dark but kinda fucked), mild angst, Protective!Daryl, hurt/comfort Summary: The war is over, but it isn't all peaches and cream. The Sanctuary struggles to function and Daryl and Y/N struggle with ghosts of their pasts after Rick asks them to take things over there. Deciding they've had enough, they decide to depart for Hilltop but Y/N stays behind for a couple days to help Carol get started taking over. The past comes back to rear its ugly head... A/N: This is an epilogue to the Sacrifice series, but you don't necessarily have to have read all 29 previous parts to appreciate it (though you def should!) [Spoilers (or reminders) for context start here -> -> -> The war is over, Y/N was once one of Negan's wives in order to protect her brother, she went back to Negan to break Daryl out of the Sanctuary, Daryl ends up shooting Negan to protect Y/N when a plan of theirs goes awry and the war ends, Y/N was also shot in the process but survived]

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl stood off to the side, watching the group of people gather around Rick, flooding the open space on the Sanctuary’s factory floor. You gently touched him on the arm and his blue eyes landed on your face. “Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I gotta. I can’t—we can’t stay here any longer. I dun want you here either. Bein’ in here, in these walls again, it feels like it’s slowly poisonin’ us…” He glanced at the fresh graffiti someone had sprayed on the wall. We’re still Negan. Saviors Save Us

Your hand slipped down his forearm and you laced your fingers with his. “I know. It’s the right decision.”

“Yeah,” he mused. “Ain’t sure Rick’s gonna agree though…”

“Rick isn’t the one here dealing with all these people, reliving everything every day. It’s too much,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” Just then, Rick finished talking to the gathered group and there was a smattering of applause and murmuring. You gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze as Rick wandered over. “Good luck,” you murmured.

Soon, various business that needed to be discussed was concluded and the already dim torch and lantern lights on the Sanctuary factory floor were all but put out. Daryl and Rick retreated up to the catwalk.

As they stood side-by-side, looking down at the shadowy, rundown building below them, Daryl sighed heavily and Rick could feel the tension between them. Rick broke the silence first. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

Daryl gulped and straightened up, looking his friend in the eye. “I don't wanna be the one leadin’ these people anymore.”

Rick’s expression was impassive. “Okay... Why?”

“Bein' here, behind these walls again... It just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been. And I’ve got Y/N to think about. After what happened to her in here—with him—”

Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Things happened to you in here too,” Rick said, perhaps realizing for the first time what he’d really asked of his friend, his brother…

“Yeah, well I care more about her than I care about myself. This is where her life was a livin’ fuckin’ nightmare. His wife…” he murmured under his breath. “She wasn’t his wife. She was his damn property. Her brother died here. He destroyed her group just like he destroyed ours. What d’ya think this place reminds both of us of?” He asked, turning sharp eyes to Rick. “Hmm? Did ya even think ‘bout that when ya asked me to come back here? Didya stop to think that ya might be askin’ us to relive some of the worst shit we’ve ever gone through?”

Rick hung his head for a moment, clasping his hands together. A wash of guilt and shame came over him. He hadn’t considered the full extent of it, no. But there was no one else to do the job and so he’d asked too much of Daryl, too much of you. “But you and Y/N have kept this place together. You’ve kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened,” he said.

Daryl shook his head and paced a small, agitated circle. “Man, s’gonna fail anyway. Nothin’ grows here. It's a damn factory, man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same. Nothin's changed,” Daryl argued.

“It's different now. We give what we give willingly,” Rick retorted.

“And how long's that gonna last? Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every drop of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more than a day's ride from one spot to another.”

“Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work,” Rick said, leaning forward on the rail again.

“Man, there ain't no ‘us’ anymore. Everyone's everywhere,” he pointed out. “I feel lucky that Y/N and I are even in the same damn place.” He let out another weighty sigh. “That small group we had back in the beginning... plus a few more of the people we picked up along the way, we could do anythin’. That was right. That’s what I know.” Daryl leaned forward beside Rick, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way.

“Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?” Rick asked. “You and Y/N?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie and the baby.”

“Well, you go, someone's got to take your place here. Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sending food, but not people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losing its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home.”

Daryl only let out a small huff.

“We're not together because things have changed,” Rick said again.

Daryl stiffened. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. His blue eyes turned to Rick again and they were intense. “The thing is, you changed ‘em, Rick.” The tension felt hot and pulsating in the air like liquid mercury. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I get it.” And then Daryl took his leave.

On the staircase, Carol backed away as quietly as she could, only to be startled by your voice softly behind her. “Well, that didn’t go great,” you whispered.

Carol turned to face you, her face drawn. “Daryl is right though. Rick shouldn’t have asked that of the two of you after—after everything you went through here. And he should have known Daryl would have a hard time saying no to him.”

You nodded and straightened up, stepping toward her. “Rick’s his brother,” you agreed. “And there really was no one else. But Daryl’s right. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s—it’s wearing him thin.”

“And you?” Carol asked, worried.

You gave her a tight smile and shrugged. But when you spoke again your voice broke. “I’d almost rather be anywhere else…”

Carol nodded knowingly and then grabbed you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. her mind drifted back to her own abuse at the hands of Ed and she felt a swell of affection for you and for Daryl, for both of you taking this on at all after everything… When she pulled back, she cleared her throat, pushing her emotion away. “I’ll—I’ll take over here a while. You and Daryl need to get out. I want to help.”

“Carol—”

“Don’t argue with me. My mind’s made up,” she said firmly.

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” you said. “I’m—I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” you said. “Make him understand.”

Carol nodded. “I’ll check on Daryl. Let him know what I’m thinking.”

“Okay. Good idea… Hey—Carol. This is—what you’re doing to help, it’s huge for us. So, thank you.”

She gave you a warm smile and you passed her on your way up the stairs to find Rick. He was still leaning heavily on the railing, clearly in deep thought over his discussion with Daryl. But he turned at the sound of your steps on the metal catwalk and straightened up when he saw you.

“Hey,” you greeted him stopping beside him and also looking down over the factory floor. No one was milling around anymore. Most people had drifted away to bed. “You okay?” you asked, giving him a knowing, sideways glance.

Rick laughed a little wryly and nodded. “Yeah… Just—tryin’ to figure out if and where I went wrong,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Things I’d do differently now…”

You nodded. “You have a lot of weight on your shoulders. Daryl knows that.”

Rick met your eyes again, clearly realizing you’d overhead their conversation somehow.

You straightened up and tilted your head toward the hallway down the catwalk. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Rick followed you as you stopped to grab a lantern and then led him down the hallway. This part of the building was mostly empty these days, except for a few people who had carved out some private spaces for themselves. The warm orange glow flickered past many doors and other halls before you turned right and came partially down the next corridor. The nauseous feeling and the heavy pit in your stomach grew as you walked, and before you knew it, your hand was trembling slightly holding the lantern. This place was full of ghosts.

Rick looked at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. The tremble in your hand translated to a shakiness in the shadows cast by the light on the walls and it was easy to see.

“We’re almost there,” you said softly.

You walked in further silence for only another half a minute before you stopped in front of a gaping dark space in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. Rick gave you a questioning look and you lifted the lantern to illuminate it. The floor was filthy with layers of smeared dirt and who-knows what else. “This is where they held us. Me, when my brother and I were captured, and Negan singled me out from my group. And Daryl after the line-up with Alexandria.”

Rick stared at the dirty, dingy space and he could almost see Daryl huddled there in his mind’s eye, wearing that filthy sweatshirt. His brow furrowed and his face contorted.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your head felt a bit light and foggy. “I—I had the doors that used to be on the cells removed, because—I just couldn’t stand the sight of them closed up like that. I kept—kept imagining Daryl was still in there every time I had to walk past. Or that somehow, I was going to end up back in there.” You glanced over at Rick who was staring straight into the darkness. He watched as you raised your free hand to rub at your bad shoulder, the one Negan’s bullet had pierced. “They took all his clothes at first. Left him in there naked. Cold. Shot. Hungry. Wondering what happened to the rest of you. And the thirst… Then, Dwight humiliated him and they fed him dog food and blasted music to keep him awake. The same song, over and over. Then, they made him work outside in the heat and humidity in that filthy sweatsuit, chaining walkers to the fence for Negan or doing whatever awful chores they could invent. He had to clean up after Negan punished someone, mopping up shit or piss or worse… Dwight made him look at pictures of—of what happened to Glenn and Abraham.” Tears burned in your eyes and Rick’s shut and he dropped his head.

He lifted a hand to wave you off. “I—I understand,” he said in a low voice, his heart breaking. He’d been careless to ask Daryl to come here, too focused on his beautiful dream in the memory of Carl to realize what this would do to you and to Daryl.

“He didn’t want to say no to you when you asked him to come back here. You’re like a brother to him. He didn’t want to let you down even though—it’s literally the last place either of us wants to be.”

Rick sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t have an excuse… I—I shouldn’t have asked it. Of either of you… I just—I was tryin’ to make this all work.”

You nodded. “I know. So does Daryl. But that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been… We’ve both been reliving our trauma having to be back here. And we’ve hit our limit. That’s all.”

Rick met your eyes again. You hadn’t even talked about yourself, about what you’d been through here in the cell and with Negan after, not really. You’d mainly focused on Daryl. But Rick could guess well enough what it would have been like for you being one of Negan’s wives and living in that constant fear for your brother and yourself, what you’d had to subject yourself to.

He glanced again at that dark space in the wall. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Carol said she’ll take over here for a while,” you said, turning away from the cell and starting back the way you came.

Rick looked surprised but nodded, walking along beside you.

“I’ll—I’ll stay a couple days to get her going here and up to speed. And then I’ll go meet Daryl in Hilltop.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded. “It’ll have to work for now. But I can’t help thinking it’s a patch on the issue and not a fix.”

You laughed wryly again. “Aren’t most things these days? Rick, Daryl wasn’t wrong about The Sanctuary. It’s a resource sink. It doesn’t produce anything. You’re still going to have to square with that one day. I get what you have been trying to do, making peace with the rest of The Saviors, and not all of them are guilty of the awful things that happened during the war. But things are still festering here under the surface.”

Rick looked over at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, about ready to part ways with him on the catwalk again. “You saw the graffiti. Negan might be dead but for some of them, it’s not over.” You gave him one last look. “Daryl and I know you have a lot on your plate, but it’s time for us to get the hell outta here. If we don’t… this place will consume us. We can’t move away from what happened while we’re here. It’s like—it’s like having it shoved down our throats every day.”

You took your leave from Rick then, leaving him again in deep thought. You knew where you could find Daryl, at a spot outside he liked to go where most people wouldn’t be able to disturb him. It happened to be someplace the two of you sometimes went to watch the stars. When you got there, stepping just one foot outside the building, you had to smile to yourself. Daryl and Carol were just sitting together, side-by-side, enjoying a moment after being apart for so long. You decided to leave them to it.

You made your way back to the room you and Daryl had claimed together in a different part of The Sanctuary. You hastily changed your clothes and got ready for bed, knowing he’d come find you there when he was ready. And it wasn’t long before he did, coming in to see you already cozied up in the bed you shared, reading a worn paperback.

You smiled as he came in. “Hi,” you said.

He stopped in the doorway and took you in, giving you a small smile back. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,�� Daryl drawled, sinking down beside you on the mattress. “I was out sittin’ with Carol.”

“It’s alright. I know you were. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you said, reaching for a strand of his wavy hair and running your fingers down it gently. “You haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling off his boots. “Get this. Ezekiel asked her to marry him,” he said, giving you a conspiratorial look.

You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand. “Oh my God!” you burst out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Well? What did she say?!”

“Ah… She ain’t ready yet,” Daryl explained.

“Wow.” You thought of Carol and Ezekiel together after the close call at the museum. They were good for each other. “Maybe someday?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm.” His hand came to rest on the graceful curve of your neck. It was cool from the nighttime air. He leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling back just slightly to study the colors in your irises. “Listen—I told Rick—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted him gently. “I could hear the two of you. And Carol talked to me too. She’s gonna take over here for a while.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. So, we can go. We dun have to be here anymore. Figured we can head to Hilltop tomorrow. Check on Maggie and Hershel.”

You nodded and then ducked your eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna stay here with Carol for just a couple more days. Help her get started and settled. Then I can meet you. I’ll take one of the horses.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. You could see that he was getting ready to argue.

“It’s just a few more days,” you whispered, gently grabbing onto the front of his vest. “It’s the least I can do since she’s doing this for us, leaving her family and world in The Kingdom.”

Daryl’s stomach churned a little, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. “She’ll have Eugene,” he pointed out.

“Barely. He and Rosita are heading to Oceanside next to get the fishery going.”

Daryl sighed heavily and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. He was chewing on his bottom lip. You knelt behind him and draped yourself against his back, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the curtain of his wavy hair, breathing him in and leaving a kiss on his neck. “It’s just a couple days,” you said again.

He gulped. He didn’t know why, but there was a pit in his stomach. “I dunno…” he mused aloud. “I dun like ya bein’ here without me. Here of all damn places.” His mind went back to that graffiti sprayed on the wall.

“I know. I don’t either. But I want to help Carol as a thank you. And then I’ll come straight to Hilltop.” You moved around to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “Hey—Look at me,” you urged him. “I can handle myself. Or did you forget?” you teased him, bumping into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know ya can handle yerself. It ain’t that… Somethin’ just—I dunno. Somethin’ dun feel righ’.”

You sighed and nodded knowingly. “It’s never felt right being here.”

“Yeah… maybe tha’s just it. I dunno,” he said finally, but you noted that he still looked slightly troubled. It had been a long day, and his talk with Rick was intense. He stood up and started getting ready to climb in bed with you. You watched the muscles in his back ripple, crisscrossed by his scars, as he pulled off his shirt. You crawled back beneath the sheets and waited until he slipped in beside you.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly to you as he settled into his pillow. You moved into him immediately and he pulled you against him. You tangled your legs with his and gazed into his bright blue eyes. He draped an arm over you and his hand moved to find the hem of your t-shirt before slipping underneath it and pressing against your bare skin, tracing absent patterns on your side, your hip, your back. Daryl leaned in and kissed you, one that was deep and full of wanting.

You felt a pooling of heat expanding in your chest as his lips moved to your neck. Daryl listened to your breathing hitch as he kissed your pulse point and grazed the shell of your ear. His hands wandered over the shape of you beneath the draping of your shirt. In no time, the two of you were completely lost in each other, melting into sensations and quiet gasps of pleasure, bounding hearts and heaving chests, skin on skin. Daryl’s fingers laced between yours, his other hand firm on your hip. Then, after you both reached your blissful highs, you fell asleep in his arms and neither of you woke until the sun was coming up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You walked with Daryl to his bike and stood beside him as he strapped down his gear, giving him a smile when he looked up at you again.

“Are ya sure ‘bout this? Ya dun have to stay. Carol will be fine,” he said in a low voice. That pit in his stomach had returned almost immediately when he awoke and thought about separating from you.

You gently rested your hands on his sides, stepping in close. “Everything is going to be fine. Go help Maggie. Check on her and Hershel. I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

He looked worried, but nodded. “S’yer call. Two days,” he drawled.

You nodded. “Two days. I promise.”

“Alrigh’…” He leaned in and kissed you deeply, clasping your face and pressing his other hand into the small of your back to pull your body flush against his. You kissed him back heatedly and hungrily and sighed when you broke apart.

“Miss ya already,” he said, breaking contact with you and getting ready to climb onto his bike.

“Same,” you agreed, giving him a tight smile. “Love you,” you added, waiting until the last moment of separating to unlace your fingers from his.

He nodded and studied you, drinking in the view. “You too.”

Then, in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust he was on his way. You didn’t see him glance back at you over his shoulder before he completely lost sight of The Sanctuary.

You found Carol already on the factory floor standing with Eugene, looking over whatever list of action items were on his clipboard that day. You were absently rubbing your bad shoulder as you came up. It had been aching since the day before. Had revisiting the cell stirred things up? Probably. Carol noticed immediately.

“You okay? Shoulder bothering you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Just a little. The old war wound acting up a bit,” you said with a wry laugh.

Eugene looked up from his clipboard. “I could potentially formulate a topical balm that may relieve some of your chronic pain symptoms, though most ingredients would not sufficiently penetrate the muscle in order to reach the origin of—”

You cut him off with a smile and a laugh. “It’s okay, Eugene. I’m fine. It’s not too bad. What do we need to tackle today?”

The three of you chatted briefly about what needed to be done urgently and then each picked your tasks to start with. Several hours later, you were nearly done trying to treat the small number of plants that were still surviving in the raised garden beds for some kind of insect pest when you were interrupted.

You turned at the sound of footsteps to see one of the Sanctuary residents approaching. You stood and dusted the soil from your gloves. “Hi. What’s up?”

“The guys getting that scrap metal from the upper floors found a water leak. Can you come take a look at it? We might be able to fix it, but we’d probably have to shut the water off completely for a while.”

You sighed heavily and pulled off your gloves. “Always something new, isn’t it?” you said dryly. “Yeah, I’ll come take a look now. Lead the way.”

You passed through the factory floor, noting that the graffiti discovered the day before had been freshly painted over as Daryl had demanded. Carol and Eugene were bent over a table in deep discussion over some new plan. Your stomach flipped as it always did as you passed the oven where Negan used to heat his iron or branding rods. You turned your eyes away.

Soon you were on the upper floors, walking through the dim hallways. It always felt eerily quiet up there. The resident you were following pointed ahead to the next doorway and then stopped to grab some work gloves from a pile of gear set in the hallway. You passed him and stopped in the doorway, expecting to see the group of other people working, but the room was empty. And there was no sign of a water leak. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “Hey, are you sure this is—”

And then everything went black.

Carol was walking somewhat aimlessly back and forth across the factory floor, weaving through the supplies and little bunched groups of people. She craned her neck trying to see if she could spot you anywhere. The two of you had planned to meet for the evening meal after everyone was done for the day but Carol was suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen you since that morning.

Her stomach began to churn. She bolted toward outside where evening was beginning to fall. The garden beds cast long, deep shadows between them, but she didn’t find you crouched among them. The final place she checked was the room you shared with Daryl, now mainly bare of your items since the two of you had begun packing your belongings to leave. Daryl had already taken his few things away on his bike.

There was no sign of you.

Her heart started to pound. She’d questioned everyone she could think of as to your whereabouts. Where could you possibly be? An anxious thought flitted into her mind. Her stomach tightened into a fist. It wasn’t like you not to arrive somewhere you said you would…

The last thing to do was to search the rarely used upper floors. She knew a crew had been working up there earlier in the day, collecting and hauling scrap metal to be reused to patch the roof and fences. Perhaps something had come up and you were still up there assisting with a problem.

Her boots made a lonely, echoing sound as she rushed around corner after corner. There was a weighty silence and the farther up she wandered, the sicker she felt. Something was seriously wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She called your name out but it strangely didn’t seem to pierce the thick vapor of silence in front of her. Every step increased her heart rate and poured adrenaline into her bloodstream. She felt almost shaky as she loosened her knife in its sheath. Just in case, she thought. In case of what?

Another minute or two passed as she searched. Each moment felt excruciatingly long. And then all of a sudden, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God. Y/N!” Carol bolted toward the crumpled form halfway down the hall in front of her. “Oh, God…” The front of your shirt was soaked with blood and you were lying on the cold floor unconscious. Your face was bruised and swollen. There were cuts and smears of blood on your skin. But what held her attention horrifically was that whoever had done this to you had taken a knife and began to carve a word into your chest, just below your collar bone. SA and part of a V. Carol didn’t need to guess what they’d intended to spell. They were making a gruesome point. Her hands shook as they hovered over you for a moment. She said your name again and then gently clasped your face and gripped your arm. She jostled you a little. “Wake up. It’s Carol! Please, wake up!”

You began to stir a little and a grimace contorted your features.

“Oh, thank God,” Carol sighed, hanging her head in relief for a very brief moment before the nausea seemed to rise into her throat again at your condition. “Y/N? Open your eyes, hun!”

You let out a small pained noise and then your eyes did open blearily. You were immediately trying to sit up, pushing yourself up on the palms of your hands but your head felt split in two and your muscles felt rubbery and weak. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“Whoa—okay. Easy! Take it easy!”

You reached up and touched the back of your head. It was swollen with a lump and tender and your fingers came away slightly sticky. You looked down at them and registered the deep color of drying blood. Your chest burned. You looked down to see that the whole front of your shirt was stained crimson. Your body ached and panged with sharp pains. You could feel your heartbeat in your face.

“Is anything broken? Can you stand up?” Carol asked, her brow heavy over her eyes, but the light inside frantic and quickly turning furious.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” you said softly. Your jaw ached. You gave it an exploratory wiggle left and right and immediately regretted it. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You winced again. “What the fuck?” you murmured. “I mean what the ever-loving, royal fuck?” you growled. The hot rage welling up in you was pushing some of the pain back.

“Let’s just get you up and off the floor, okay? Slowly.” Carol helped you to your feet. Your head swam and you squeezed your eyes shut, not letting go of her hands for a long moment until you felt steadier. Her expression said enough about what you must look like… “What happened? Do you know who did this to you?” she asked.

You shook your head a little, absently pressing a hand to the burning sensation on your chest, but you stopped as the burn surged when your palm landed flush on your skin. You took in a sharp intake of breath through your teeth. “No. Well—I saw one of them… they lured me up here. Told me there was a water leak they found while doing the scrapping and—and then someone hit me on the head from behind and I was knocked out. But I don’t know why. I mean, why me?”

Carol’s expression was taught. Anger swirled in her eyes. She knew exactly why. You couldn’t see it yet, but the word was partially carved into your chest. That graffiti on the wall out on the factory floor was just the tip of the iceberg. Things were rotting here just under the surface, and since you’d once been Negan’s wife, she imagined you were a perfect target for those who wanted to make a point. “Let me see the back of your head,” she said. There was a small split in the skin where you’d been struck, your hair stained rusty red, but she didn’t think you’d need stitches there and she was extremely relieved that it wasn’t worse... not much anyone could do from something like a skull fracture in the apocalypse. She sighed heavily as another flame of rage wicked upwards in her chest. “Okay… Let’s get you back to your room. Hold onto my arm. Can you make it?”

You nodded, gripping her to steady yourself on your shaky legs, and allowed her to lead you away. You glanced back over your shoulder and were sickened to see the smears of your blood shockingly deep red on the tile behind you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Carol had you sitting on the edge of your bed and she set down a first aid kit beside you. You were looking up at her from behind a wall of swelling and bruising on your face. You tenderly wiggled your jaw again, testing opening and closing your mouth. It felt ready to lock up. She could tell from the way you’d moved on the walk back and how you were slumped slightly forward now that there was probably substantial bruising beneath your clothes that she couldn’t see. Your movements were tentative and cautious.

You hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. You were afraid to. The pain was bad enough. The fogginess in your head was bad enough. You were worried if you saw the results of the beating, it would only make it worse, more real.

Carol began unpacking supplies. “Tell me everything you remember,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “Not much. Like I said, I was out working in the raised garden beds and somebody came up to me.”

“Who?” Carol pressed you. “If you don’t know their name, what did they look like?”

“Uhh… his name starts with a ‘G’ I think… Give me a second.” You filed through names in your head until you got the right one. “Graham. I think that’s it… He’s tall. Long black hair past his shoulders.”

“Okay,” Carol nodded, opening an alcohol swab. “What did he say exactly?”

“He asked if I could come look at a leak they found while they were moving all the scrap metal. He said they thought they could fix it but they’d have to turn the water off. I went to see and I was barely in the doorway of the room he pointed out. There wasn’t a water leak. I was just standing there, about to say something and—something hit the back of my head. I don’t really remember anything after that. Some foggy pain maybe but… mostly nothing.”

“Do you think there were others waiting up there? Or could it have just been him?” Carol asked, dabbing at a wound on the side of your face. You shut your eyes from the fumes of the alcohol. She was starting to worry about just how many traitors could be in the walls.

“There was at least one other person. When I got hit, I was looking back at him ten feet away from me down the hall.”

Carol sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes drifted down to the cruelly carved letters on your chest. Your chin tilted down as you tried to look but her hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Hold on,” she said. Her face contorted with emotion she was trying to hold back. “Better you see this now. I’m so sorry.”

You gave her a perplexed look. You knew you were beat up but what was she—

Carol grabbed the small mirror off the little sink in the corner and held it up so you could see yourself for the first time. Initially, all you saw was the swelling and bruising on your face but then your breath caught in your throat. S-A- and part of a V, cut into your skin. The cuts were deep and she had already had to apply some butterfly bandages to hold certain spots closed. No wonder your skin had burned and stung there since you came back to consciousness.

You felt like you were about to be sick and Carol must have seen you pale because she hastily put down the mirror and gripped your shoulders again as if she was afraid you were going to faint. “Whoa. Deep breaths.”

Your eyes shut and you did your best to swallow down the nausea. “What the fuck,” you muttered, reeling. You blinked away angry tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then I think I have some of my special ointment in my bag. If you apply it at least once a day it’ll minimize any scarring…”

You let out a wry laugh. “Minimize,” you repeated. “But I’ll still have half of ‘Saviors’ carved into me for the rest of my life.” Tears burned in your eyes again. It wasn’t bad enough what you had gone through with Negan, with his men, with the war—now this? Would it ever be over?

Carol winced. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea things were this bad here.”

You sniffled and mopped gently at the tears that had broken out onto your cheeks. “I knew they were pretty bad but—can’t say I saw anything like this coming.”

“Well, who could? It’s—horrific.” She gave you a sympathetic look and then surprised you by pulling you gently into a hug for a long moment. Her eyes were teary now too when she pulled back, but she pulled herself together quickly. Back to business, she returned to the first aid kit and continued her ministrations. Your mind was endlessly turning.

“I wonder why they didn’t finish,” you suddenly said softly.

“Mmm,” Carol hummed, nodding, tossing down another soiled gauze pad and reaching for a new one. “They must have gotten interrupted. Maybe heard someone in that part of the building.”

Your eyes lifted and met hers. She paused at the expression on your face. “Do you think they were going to kill me? Leave me there with—with this cut into me to make a statement?”

Carol’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat. Your question had been asked matter-of-factly and Carol was suddenly reminded of all you had gone through in the war and even before any of them had met you, when you’d just been a stranger with a mysterious backstory. “But obviously they knew they couldn’t take you in a fair fight. Fucking cowards,” she growled. “Had to ambush you to even have a chance.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, your eyes dropping to your hands. “They sure beat the shit out of me though,” you mused aloud. “It’s probably good Daryl isn’t here. He’d lose it,” you said, fiddling with another gauze pad which Carol took out of your hands and taped down over the now cleaned cuts below your collarbone.

She cleared her throat. “About that…”

You met her blue eyes again. “You radioed him? He’s probably way out of range by now. He’s probably already in Hilltop,” you said.

“Rosita rode out on the quad immediately to get within range. Eugene is doing a headcount as we speak to see who, if anyone, is missing…”

Another wry laugh left you and you nodded. “That’s why you took so long. And I just thought you couldn’t find the damn kit,” you said, shooting her a look, tears burning in your eyes. “Daryl is gonna go on a rampage,” you said softly.

Carol nodded. “Probably. But he should be here with you. And if I didn’t radio him, I’d be on the receiving end of that rampage. And I think we should focus it on the assholes that did this to you instead.”

You nodded and a sob tried to burst out of you. You suppressed it as best you could and it came out as a hitched breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little strained.

Carol quickly grabbed you into a hug again. “Everything is going to be okay. Daryl will be here soon and we will figure this out.”

You hugged her back and nodded into her shoulder, grateful again for your found family.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was there in an hour, stomping through The Sanctuary with Eugene at his heels, mostly ignoring the stream of words out of the mullet-headed Texan’s mouth. Rosita finally grabbed Eugene’s arm and stopped him, clearly realizing Daryl wasn’t hearing a word of it, didn’t give a shit about anything but going to see you. He was at the door of the little room the two of you had shared before anyone could come to tell you he’d arrived.

Daryl froze and made himself knock lightly, rather than barely in. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. His stomach turned as he waited to hear your voice on the other side, inviting him in. “S’me,” he drawled, the jittery feeling that permeated his body translating to an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice.

You sat up in bed. “Come in,” you said hurriedly, already feeling the tears burning in your eyes again. You were in clean clothes now and thoroughly patched up thanks to Carol, but that wasn’t going to change how rough you looked and how hard it was going to be for Daryl to see it.

The door opened slowly, measuredly, and he took shape in the doorway. He froze for only a split second as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the swelling and already deep purple bruises. Then he rushed to you and hugged you in against him gently. That was all it took for you to go to pieces against him, clinging to his leather jacket. “Jesus, what the hell did they do to ya? ‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’ta left ya. ‘M so sorry, babe. I shoulda been here,” he said into your hair, kissing you on the top of the head, holding you gently so he wouldn’t hurt you but firmly so you knew you were safe.

You sniffled and mopped the tears from your cheeks as he clasped your face and brushed your hair back. “Don’t—don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” you said, looking up into his blue eyes. They were stormy and turbulent. “You couldn’t know…”

“Lemme see ya,” he said, looking you over. His heart ached as you showed him the bruising on your stomach and ribs. “Sit back. Rest,” he said, climbing into bed beside you where you were propped up against the headboard and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You tucked in against him. He left a kiss in your hair again.

“Did—did Rosita tell you what they—that—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me anything specific except that some assholes had hurt ya bad, beat ya up, and that I needed to get back here,” he said. “Tell me what?” His stomach churned around a hard knot. His mind began inventing all kinds of horrific scenarios immediately. What did you mean?

You could see him whirling and quickly tried to explain. “I was unconscious but—” Your hand landed on the gauze pad taped over the wounds below your collarbone. His eyes flitted down to it. “They used a knife and—” You couldn’t get any more words out so you simply lifted the bandage to show him, gingerly peeling back the medical tape and bandaging. Daryl froze completely. Every part of him stilled. He stared at the brutality someone had inflicted on you and hot rage boiled inside him. More tears leaked out onto your cheeks as you saw what it was doing to him to see that on you. You hastily covered it back up.

He softened again, coming back to himself, letting his anger flow away, and wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs. “Hey—it don’t matter to me what they—how they marked ya like that. Ya know that, right? Ya got every right to feel however ya feel ‘bout it. Ya do. But to me—” He shook his head. “It don’t matter, okay? I just see you. It’s all gonna be alrigh’.”

You collapsed into him again, finally letting yourself completely break down, wondering how the fuck you’d gotten so lucky as to find this man. He held you against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. He could feel the bump on the back of your head where they’d hit you. He could feel the swelling on your face and under your clothes, and he internally yelled at himself for leaving you behind, even if it was only supposed to be for a couple days, even though no one would have guessed that anything like this would happen, even though he knew how strong and capable you were. “‘M so sorry,” he murmured again. “I shouldn’t have left ya here… here of all places, with them.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m gonna track down every one of these assholes and put ‘em in the fuckin’ ground,” he growled.

You couldn’t stand him blaming himself and you pulled yourself together. “It’s not your fault, Daryl. And—maybe… maybe I should have known something like this could happen…”

His brow furrowed. “What do ya mean?” He took a beat, his heart seemingly suspended somewhere in a gaping space that had opened in his chest. “Did somethin’ happen before this?”

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes still glassy. “No. No, not exactly. Nothing happened. I mean, people have—said things to me before. Made comments. I just—”

Daryl frowned, his brow heavy over his eyes, casting them in a deep shadow. “Like what? What kinda comments?”

You sighed and turned to face him more fully. You rested your hands on his sides. “Just—little shitty things. Because of what I’d been here,” you explained. “As Negan’s wife…”

Daryl was boiling again inside with anger. “Ya weren’t ever his wife,” he said. “That word means somethin’ else.” Your fingers went to touch the wedding band on your ring finger, the one Daryl had made with his own hands and given to you.

“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly. “I just wrote them off and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be a big deal and I knew how upset you’d get. It just felt like shitty people being shitty at the time. Mostly…”

“Mostly,” he growled.

“I never thought anything like this would happen. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl sighed and ducked his head, running his hands gently up and down the soft bare skin on your arms, marred with bruises and abrasions. “Don’t apologize. Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I get why ya didn’t tell me… and yer righ’. I woulda beat the shit out of anybody sayin’ or doin’ anythin’ like that to ya. But tha’s my job. I wanna protect you.”

“I know,” you said. “We’ve just had so much on our plate here. I didn’t want to add something else. And I never thought—I didn’t think—” You grimaced as a wave of pain and dizziness hit you.

“I know. I know. Hey—it’s okay. We’ve talked ‘bout this enough. Ya need to rest. ‘M here now. S’okay.”

“I am really tired,” you agreed, shutting your eyes and waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

He clasped your face again, his eyes flickering from this injury to that, and then he kissed your swollen lips as gently as he could. You managed to give him an overwhelmed, somewhat sad smile which he returned. “C’mon. Let’s lay down.”

Daryl helped you settle down on the mattress and fitted himself beside you. You tucked yourself against his body, breathed in his smell and safety, and shut your eyes. His fingers brushed through your hair, reassuring and grounding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl was awake early while you slept on. He carefully, ever so slowly slipped out of bed and pulled a change of clothes on. He snuck out and headed to find Carol, Eugene, and Rosita.

He spotted Eugene first and nudged his head up in a nod as a greeting. “Well, what d’ya got to tell me?” Daryl asked hurriedly.

“We were short five of the former Saviors at the headcount last night, and five again this mornin’. Carol and Rosita have been questionin’ people all night. We don’t think anyone here knew anything about it. They weren’t exactly gentle with their lines of inquiry.”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “Alrigh’. As I thought then... Cowards took off right afterwards.”

“Indeed. I suspect they knew Justice’s hammer would fall hard and swift on them once their atrocious deed was discovered,” Eugene agreed. “No way to know now where they’re headed.”

Daryl sighed. “Hopefully righ’ into a fuckin’ herd of walkers,” he drawled. “Alrigh’. Well, we need to send out runners to get word out to The Kingdom and Alexandria so ev’rybody can watch out for those pieces of shit... Y/N and I will take news to Hilltop today, and keep our eyes open for any sign of ‘em on the way. If I get sight of ‘em, I’mma strangle ‘em with my bare fuckin’ hands…” He sighed again, even more heavily this time. “Thanks. For everythin’ ya’ll did last night.”

“Of course,” Eugene said sincerely. “How is her condition today?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “She’s still asleep. She was exhausted. ‘M gonna get back up there. I dun want her wakin’ up here alone and ‘m still afraid there could be somebody in here—” he hesitated to speak his fear lest it become real. “She’ll be alrigh’. She’s tough. But she was shaken up pretty good and I can’t believe how bad they beat her up... and what they did,” he said vaguely, referring to the letterds on your skin. “But she’ll be okay.” He patted Eugene on the shoulder gratefully and headed straight back to you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

With hasty goodbyes and thank you’s to your close, chosen family, still at The Sanctuary you departed for Hilltop on the back of Daryl’s bike. You held extra tightly to him the whole way, and often his right hand left the handlebars to smooth over yours for a moment. The Sanctuary shrank smaller and smaller behind you and then disappeared into a cloud of dust. Neither of you knew it at the time, but you’d never come to that place again while it was a semi-functional community. It would be only ruins when you sheltered there during the storm eight years after the war.

On arriving at Hilltop, Maggie threw her arms around you and tears of shock filled her eyes when she saw your bruised and swollen face. Enid insisted on checking you over again, but gave you the all clear after much expressed anger and concern. Maggie quickly carved out a space for you and Daryl to stay, close to the room she shared with baby Hershel in the big house up on the hill.

Your body had stiffened overnight and on the bike ride. Every movement caused aches and pains to shoot through you and Daryl was attentive and worried as you settled into your new home. When you settled into bed at first, Daryl kissed every part of you where he could see a bruise or injury. His fingers were light and gentle on your skin, and you were amazed as you always were that he could be so soft when he was so strong. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon and you were again laying side by side, your head tucked up under his chin, listening to the whoosh of air in his lungs and his steady heartbeat.

“I had an idea,” you said softly, breaking a long but comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Maybe when I’m all healed up, if—if it scars bad, I can get someone to do a tattoo over it to cover it up.”

Daryl smiled. You were already thinking ahead to the future, thinking of solutions. That was a good sign. He hugged you more tightly against him. “What would ya get?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty… to cover up something so ugly,” you mused aloud. “Like, there are these flowers that only bloom once in their lifetime and it can take decades to happen.”

“Nah, tha’s no good,” Daryl said quickly.

“What? Why?” you asked, looking up at him with surprise from beneath your lashes.

“It don’t fit ya. Yer bloomin’ all the time. Every day. Ya always have been, even when ya couldn’t see it,” he drawled. He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead.

You smiled at him sleepily.

“Was that too cheesy?” he asked with a gruff laugh.

“No. It was just the right amount,” you said. “Okay… maybe I’ll just get ‘Property of Daryl Dixon’,” you joked.

“No good. Ya ain’t nobody’s property. Ya belong only to yerself. ‘M just lucky that you share with me,” he said, his fingertips tracing vague shapes on the bare skin of your hip, exposed from the way your shirt had draped.

You sighed and nuzzled in against his neck. “I was only kidding,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I know. But it’s true.”

You yawned. “Maybe. But I do also belong to you, by my choice. I have since that night you fell through that rotten floor,” you said with a laugh. Daryl’s chest moved as he joined you with a low chuckle. In another minute, you were asleep. Daryl whispered ‘I love you’ into your hair, and shut his eyes too.

He meant what he’d said—he’d find whoever had hurt you and end them if he could, but after that, he wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to dim another day. He’d walk with you forward, facing the sun in the same way you’d been doing together since the end of the war. And he hoped this time all of it, all the Saviors, The Sanctuary, the fear and pain, was really behind both of you.

#sacrifice #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfic

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itsgrimeytime · 9 months

Text

The Nurse (Part Ten) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @moneyoverl0v3 @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen @dxrkymxrchy

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, angst, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), gunshot wounds, swearing, coma mention, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: This gif is was SOOOO hard to find. But the vibes properly address this newest part. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it was necessary. Hopefully, this will make it better :) Thanks for reading !!!]]

"I win!" Carl grinned, crossing through the x's on the grid with a sort of satisfaction -a brightness in the otherwise dim room, curtains drawn and machines beeping.

You hummed, peering over the paper with an exaggeratively questioning brow, "Did you, really? Let me see-"

"Fair and square," he spoke -defensive and puffing up his chest ever so slightly.

Handing the paper to you, your eyes slinked over the grid -tucking your pen back into the scrub pocket with a soft smile, "Hmm, I guess you did! Fair and square."

Carl smiled to himself, running off to Shane -who stood by the door, eyes laid heavy on the hospital bed. He was eagerly pointing, and nearly jumping up and down -Shane with ease knelt down to get a good look at what he wanted to show him.

"You-" Lori spoke, suddenly at your side -her mouth hidden behind her hand, "-You'd tell me, if it wasn't good, right?"

You took a glance at the IV, making the note to replace it soon, before turning to the woman -lowering your voice, "Of course, Mrs. Grimes. It's just. It's too early for any news at all."

"And the-" she started, swallowed, as her voice echoed shakily, "-the fluttering behind the eyes?"

"It's something pretty run of the mill," you answered -regretfully, "-patients in a comatose state can have some instinctual movements, muscle spasms, it's not... It's not conclusive."

"Right," she echoed -exhaling a sort of shaky breath out of her lungs, "-I guess I just- I don't know what to do. What... What would you do?"

"Ma'am-"

"Please," she voiced -tone thick but intentional, "-call me Lori."

"Lori," you corrected -heavy and trying to guide her, "-I can't make that decision for you. But-"

You turned her attention to her son, as he seemed to be recounting the game of tic-tac-toe to Shane -all happy, bright, hopeful energy, "-It's too early to let him lose what he has."

"Hope," she answered -a little desolate in tone, and you could tell she'd already lost it but Carl... Carl hadn't.

"And," you added with a bit of a laugh, "-if Rick's as stubborn as you say, I'm sure he wouldn't go down without fighting."

Lori smiled, hand tender on his -fingertips rubbing at the ring that stayed there, "He wouldn't."

"So, hold on for him," you echoed, placing a single hand on her shoulder, "-okay?"

That evening, when the visiting hours closed, you checked up his room -quickly switching out his IV and running through his vitals. You don't remember when it had started, but you'd begun talking to him -maybe it was because of Carl, the bright boy that was so sad. You weren't sure.

Flipping through his clipboard, you spoke, "Looking good, Grimes. Let's keep you breathing today, hmm?"

Roaming closer, you watched the beating of his heart -steady and consistent. Noting that you moved over to another monitor -one with his brain activity. It was a bit of a confusing sight to anyone who couldn't read it, but there was a spike -good. Never dipping.

"Dreaming well?" you smiled, scooting back and taking him in -laid completely motionless, and the flowers by his bedside still vibrant. It was always a sight that twisted your heart, even after the times you'd seen it before.

Something so desperate about the dark room and the beeping machines -lights a mere flicker. It was lonely, most of all, and part of you wished he'd had warm dreams. Cliche meadows, smiling, and family memories-

"Rick," you echoed, sitting into a chair -the one right next to him, "-I just want you to know that you have a wonderful family waiting for you here. But I-"

His chest moved in a rhythm, up and down.

"-I don't know how long they can wait."

Part of you wished to see anything different upon his face, anything, but there was nothing. He was still the same, curls tenderly brushed to the back of his head, and ring glimmering in the lights of the monitors.

"So," you cleared your throat -wiping at your eyes (this job never got any easier), "-just try and wake up soon, yeah? For them."

There was a whiteness that took over your mind then, bright beyond belief, and a sting flushing over your skin, hurt -dousing it in what felt like ice-cold water. Like you'd fallen to the ground, the concrete ground-

"Hey, hey-" there was a voice, one you recognized, brown eyes and long hair -Daryl, "-ya with me?"

There was a searing pain in your shoulder (the right one -your mind meekly noted) so overwhelming that it felt like your mouth couldn't work. It was like the sting of a million bees, nerve endings firing off -you couldn't see straight.

"I-" you tried, but it broke off -curling into some sort of slurred speech as it peaked in pain. Was this what it felt like to die?

Something in your brain was firing, as you tried to gather your words -fighting against the instinct, blinking back tears, "He... missed...?"

It was all breathy, and slurred, but you saw them pass over an understanding on his face -still somehow able to understand, "Yea, just- just hit y'er shoulder."

"Fuck," you echoed, flinching as the words seethed through your teeth, "-does not feel like just my... shoulder-"

Daryl merely looked over you, hands lifted and suddenly so bloody -it made your head spin. You were used to it, but not to yourself. You weren't usually the patient, not like this-

"I don't see anythin' else-"

"O-Okay," you swallowed back a groan, maybe even a scream, "-can you just put-"

Without a warning, his hands came to your shoulder -pushing (stopping the blood, something in your head remarked). You bit your lip so harshly that you tasted iron, "Shit, maybe warn me next time-"

"'Sorry," he retorted, fairly bland -but you could see the panic in his eyes.

You laughed, even though it hurt -each exhale met with a harsh inhale, "No you're not."

Daryl let out the smallest of smiles, and you counted it somewhat as a win. Even then, until your ears focused in, honed in on an extra voice.

"Shoot me, sheriff-" he echoed -grating on your ears, "-shoot me."

"What's-" you started -breaths heavy and eyes woozy, "-where's Rick? What's happening-"

"Breathe-" Daryl echoed, tone gruff and straightforward, "-you can't move like 'at."

"What's..." you took a deep breath in -quick and rushed, "-what's happening? Daryl, tell me-"

The world was getting spotty, white splotches smeared in your vision -it seemed so easy to sleep then, to rest your eyes. But your heart was racing against your chest, heavy beats echoing even larger than life, was he okay-

It wasn't worth it, if he was hurt -had he been shot? You couldn't stand it-

"Hey, hey, sweetheart-" a new face detailed in your face, blue eyes -you inhaled a gasp, "-I'm here, I'm here."

"Are you-" you spoke through ragged breaths, "-are you... okay? Are you hurt-"

Rick sighed -tears were in his eyes, you could see them, "I'm fine. 'Should be worryin' 'bout yourself."

You inhaled -a shaky sort of breath, as Daryl's hands stayed pressured -the sear of the pain so stinging that your head spun. But you stayed, trying desperately to stay present, to stay with him.

Distantly, you felt this might be it. You didn't want to miss him now -not now.

"Bandage," you spoke, through the heavy breaths -labored, working so hard to merely speak, "-somethin', something to wrap it with. Bleeding... stop the bleeding-"

"I kno'," he responded, quick as his hands moved to the ends of his shirt, "-I kno'. Just stay with me, 'kay? Keep y'er eyes on me."

He was rushing, a distant rip echoing through your head -he was using his shirt, you guessed. You merely followed the movement, eyes languid on his face -memorizing the push of his brow, the pull of his mouth. Despite the pain, something so wonderful about him being there -right in front of you.

"I missed you," you spoke -slurred and oh-so tired. But it felt necessary, built up deep in your chest -wonderous feeling busting at the center of your ribs.

Rick, who was busy with the fabric of his shirt, turned his eyes to you -blue eyes set upon you like you were the only thing in the world, "-I missed ya too, darlin'. Let me help you for once, 'kay?"

He mumbled something to Daryl, replacing the pressure with the tight wrapped fabric -your breath hissed out, flinching ever so lightly at the shift in feeling. Rick flicked to you for a second, eyes doused in a sort of deep concern -gently smoothing over your skin.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. 's gonna hurt-"

"I kno'," you spoke, muffled and murmured. You were so tired.

"Hey, hey-" he started, tiltin to meet your eyes -hand soft against your skin, guiding, "-stay with me."

"Rick," you hummed -pain a mere deafened noise in the back of your head, "-just so tired. I'm tryin'-"

"I kno', I kno', sweetheart," he echoed, a beautiful sort of thrum against your skin, "-just a lil' longer. Why don't you tell me somethin', anythin'-"

"I remember you, in the-" you interrupted, tone limp but still there, "-in the hospital. I used to talk to you then-"

"Did ya?" Rick responded, moving around and you could feel it. It all blurred to the background, "-what about?"

"Depends," your eyes scattered along his face, "-sometimes told you to wake up, and other times just complainin' 'bout somebody. There used to be- There used to be this lady, came in everyday. I'm so sure she hated me-"

"Really, you?" he hummed, "-Imma pick ya up, okay? Get you where you can get some help-"

"Tried to complain that I was flirtin' with 'er husband," you murmured -the shake of your head as he gathered you up, pulling you close to his chest, "-was jus' bein' nice."

"Were you? Flirtin'?"

"No," you stressed, a little defensively, head leaning against his chest -the deep thrum of his heart rumbling against your skin, "-no, you kno' that."

"I do," he echoed -tone fond and it sent something warm down your spine, "-don't I."

And maybe your head was a little woozy, but you couldn't hold it back then -all slurred words and white splotches in your vision. The thrum of his heart beating you a lullaby, your eyes found themselves is a bleary haze.

"I love you, you know 'at."

And maybe he said something in response, you felt the rumble in his chest. But you... you hadn't felt safe enough to sleep in awhile, and gathered up in his arms -a familiar woodsy smell surrounding you, you had. It was like a bubble there, all cooped up with the pain a distant thrash, and somewhere deep in your head, you knew he'd keep you safe.

With that final thought, your eyes drifted shut.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader

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normanplusdaryl · 1 year

Text

Back to black.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Season 9

Word count: 2.5k

Plot: Daryl comes home after many years to face the consequences of his actions.

Warnings: ANGST, pure ANGST!

A/N: I've been wanting to write this shared idea I had with @finalgirlrick for a while now, I hope I can break your heart (affectionate).

@weretheones I couldnt done it without u, like always! Ily <3

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

Daryl was in pain and he knew it.

He tried to ignore the pang running through the wound for several days but the burning sensation wouldn't cave in and the medical herbs were not being really helpful.

Deep down he knew he needed help but somehow the idea of coming back to Alexandria stung more than the freshly cut on his face.

The river flowed quiet and calm, leaving barely any trace of the storm that crashed hard the day before. With one knee on the ground, Daryl watched the water following the trail while contemplating his options.

It’s been so long since he visited Alexandria.

When he decided to follow the river in hopes to find Rick’s body he never thought it would take so long, until days, weeks and months passed by. But he couldn't stop, the promise he made to Michonne drove his body incessantly.

He would never admit it, but there were moments when a small part of his heart hoped the reason why he couldn't find a trace was because his brother was alive.

After many years, that hope slowly started to fade away. Every day became harsher, colder, more dangerous. Sometimes he just survived for instinct, not because he really wanted to.

Days like this were tougher, he could deal with some injury across his face but he wasn't sure how devastating it would be for him to come back home and face everything he left behind to pursue something he wasn't successfully accomplishing.

He never let his mind ramble too much about what was going on back in Alexandria, he knew if he thought about it too much he wouldn't be able to resist dropping everything to go home, to Michonne, to Judith and RJ, to you.

The first years you visited him constantly, bringing food, blankets, fresh clothes or even weapons, anything that could help him out in the woods, trying to be close to him.

Still, that meant you were exposing yourself to the dangers of the path along the river.

He knew you were capable of handling yourself out in the open but Daryl couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger trying to find him. This was his task and no one should suffer with him the consequences of his decision, especially you.

“It’s been years, Daryl, you need to take at least a break, come back home, we can think of a new strategy, maybe this time I could come with you and…”

“Just stop” Daryl spoke in a growl without letting you finish. —“Ya shouldn't be here”.

You sighed, you knew you were pushing some dangerous buttons but after so many times of the same conversation over and over, you needed to make sure he heard you.

“I understand Daryl, I really do, but we need you too, I need you.” you begged.

Daryl’s gaze was glued to the ground, paralyzed with the fear of catching your eyes, he knew if he looked at you nothing would stop him from finally hearing your pleas.

“I talked to Michonne, you know? and she isn't expecting you to fulfill the promise, she just wants you back home, we all do” you continued.

Usually, you could read him like a book but right now, you couldn't point out what was going through his mind.

“I… I… dont think Rick would’ve wanted to see you like this either, Daryl”.

Daryl’s head snapped towards you. His face carried a trace of anger and sadness.

“I’m never gonna stop looking” he finally said, his tone of voice lower than usual — “This stops now, I never asked ya to be here”

The feeling of a thousand needles pinching through your body washed you over. You blinked twice, as fast as you could, trying to swipe away the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

It took two long deep breaths for you to finally be able to speak.

“What does that mean Daryl?” you said almost in a whisper, afraid of an answer you already knew.

Hell, you knew it from the moment that bridge exploded, your legs ran towards Daryl so fast to the sound of the dynamite invading the forest, by the time you got there the flames started to fade away, giving space to dark a fume that took over the sky.

Your eyes searched everywhere for Daryl until you spotted him a few miles away, crossbow in hand. You yelled his name, twice, and when he finally turned to you, you knew, you could see it in his eyes, devastation consuming his body. Nothing would ever be the same from that moment but you loved him enough to fight and delay the inevitable for years, clinging to a hope that now was slipping right between your fingers.

Daryl took a step back, breaking your thoughts. He paced back and forward trying to gather the courage to speak.

“It means ya need to move on like I did” Daryl’s voice echoed in the silence of the quiet woods.

Daryl closed his eyes to the memory and sighed, that was the last time he saw you.

The way your face contorted with pain when he pronounced those words haunted his dreams almost every night. He knew he hurt you, and he regretted it everyday for the last couple of years.

Sometimes, he wondered if you could forgive him, maybe if he came back home and explained to you he never meant that, you’d take him into your arms like all those nights in the tiny basement of your house in Alexandria.

His skin was burning, but inside his veins felt loaded with ice, making him shiver.

That wasn't a good sign. The fever was rising fast, shit, there wasn't another option, he needed to go now before he was too weak to make the ride.

The guards of the guard tower recognized him immediately, the sound of the angry motor was something hard to ignore. “It's Daryl, let him in!” someone yelled from the inside.

Daryl drove through the gates giving them a thankful nod. Alexandria was different from the last time he was there, the community was thriving under Michonne’s leadership, they were not taking any new members for a long time now but still it felt bigger than usual.

“I thought I heard a bike” Aaron approached as soon as the doors closed behind him, extending his arms to give him a big hug.

“It’s been a while” Daryl squeezed his friend’s arm in response.

“It shouldn't be, this is your home too” Aaron gave him a sympathetic smile.

Home He might be back to the place he once called home but he knew the meaning of the term was gone the day he lost you.

“Jesus Daryl, that looks infected” Aaron broke the silence pointing to Daryl’s cut across his face.

“S’ not that bad” Daryl said as he shrugged.

Aaron’s expression changed as soon as he understood the reason behind his sudden visit, tension slowly invading his features.

“Daryl, I think we should talk before you go to the infirmary” Aaron’s tone of voice became serious. “Look, you probably don't know this but…”

“Daddy!” The sudden scream of a child interrupted the conversation. Both men followed the direction of the sound, finding a little girl walking towards them, pouting with fresh tears along her cheeks.

“What happened sweetheart, are you okay?” Aaron took the little girl in his arms, swiping away the tiny drops. “I’m sorry, let me take her home so we can talk” he frowned — “Don't move, I’ll be back in a minute”.

Daryl nodded watching his friend leave, confused by his words and sudden change of demeanor.

Once the residents spotted him he felt exposed. People greeted him with surprise, some of them came forward to ask him how he was doing while others just stared, clearly unaware of who he was.

Anxiety took the best of him, the chances of running into you were high the longer he stayed there, he thought it was for the best if he could sneak in, get his antibiotics and leave before you notice.

He owed you at least that.

The small white house came into his sight, pots full of flowers carefully placed following the road to the stairs. His heart raced when he recognized which kind they were: tulips, your favorite ones.

The curtains on the window were open, leaning on the corner outside the door he peeked inside in hopes to see Siddiq there, but what he saw made him freeze, feeling every inch of his skin electrified.

You were there.

Time didn't seem to pass by you cause he could’ve sworn you looked the same as the last time he saw you, except the pony tail you used to wear everyday was gone, and your hair looked shorter. He smiled recalling how many times you complained about being too long for the damn summer.

God, he missed you.

Daryl endured a lot of things down the river, but being away from you was the hardest one.

After your discussion in the woods, he made himself a promise. To make it through, he could never allow himself to think of you. Not because he didn't want to but because he was certain he wouldn't survive if he did it.

All the feelings he captured inside him all these years were coming out in waves, leaving him in a daze. He wanted to leave, this wasn't what he was planning on, but Daryl felt hypnotized. He drank you in, memorizing for one last time every corner of your beautiful face.

Siddiq’s frame appeared next to yours, whispering something in your ear that made you chuckle. The scene had a hint of intimacy hidden in the way you both looked at eachother.

And then, Siddiq’s hands took your waist, pulling you closer to him, until the distance between your bodies disappeared. He placed one kiss on your forehead followed by another one on your lips and you smiled at the action.

That's why Aaron wanted to talk to him first.

Daryl’s breathing hitched. No, no, no.

Siddiq looked different from the last time Daryl saw him, older, more mature and he could’ve sworn even taller.

He looked like the happiest man on earth. Daryl couldn't blame him, once he felt like that too.

He took your hand giving it one last kiss before waving goodbye, Daryl’s eyes were glued to the action, feeling a strange sense of relief once he left the room.

He didn't know how long he stood there in front of the door but he couldn't move, it felt like the strength from the earth was nailing him to the wooden deck, immobilizing his body. Everything hurt, if the fever didn't kill him this certainly would.

Immerse in his thoughts he missed the sound of your steps approaching the door, you opened it before he could make a move.

“Da.. Daryl?!” your eyes widened at him. — “What are you doing here?!”

The shock of having you suddenly so close left him flabbergasted, he remained silent feeling the lump on his throat getting bigger, words couldn't physically come out of his mouth.

Your eyes scanned him, you knew Daryl and the only reason he would come back was if he was dangerously injured.

His skin looked pale, and the bags under his eyes were starting to have a purple look but what really concerned you, was the swollen massive cut across his right eye.

You brought your hand towards his forehead, he was burning.

“Oh my god! Come in, come in." — " We need to take care of that, it’s already infected” you rushed him in as fast as you could.

Daryl nodded, still unable to talk.

Sitting on the stretcher Daryl watched your trained hands hurriedly clean up his wound, the smell of your sweet perfume captivated his nostrils every time you leaned over to apply some ointment. He hummed inwardly with delight, even as you were trying to be really careful to not hurt him further, he couldn't feel a thing, his mind was consumed in the sensation of your delicate touch.

“Here, you need to take one in the morning before eating, make sure to have something in your stomach, please” you softly said while giving him a bottle of pills.

“Ya sure don't need this?” guilt pang him, he was strong, two pills would do the trick, he didn't need more.

“Don't fight me, please?, I know what I’m doing” you scolded him tittling your head.

“Yeah, I know” Daryl’s voice came out almost in a whisper.

The tension in the air was palpable, filled with a thousand emotions. There was so much history between the two of you, even if you weren't together now, both of you knew you would always love and care for each other to the end.

Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid you’d faint right there. You knew you would see Daryl again, sure, but not like this, not after Siddiq just left.

It took a long time before you could feel like yourself again, days and sleepless nights wondering for years why you weren't enough. Sometimes you would go outside the gates of Alexandria determined to search for him and talk, beg for him to take you back, to love you again. But his words rang loud in your head whenever you approached near the river “It means ya need to move on like I did”.

“M’ sorry” Daryl broke the cruel silence. “I didn't knew”

You closed your eyes, facing the window, unable to look at his face. It was crazy how deep down the feelings you had for him still burned like fire, hearing the sound of his voice made your heart race, attempting to jump out of your chest.

“Are ya happy?” Daryl continued, standing from the stretcher walking over to you. — “I need to know”.

You were happy indeed. Siddiq brought something different in you, a version you enjoyed. His love was calm, easy, steady, exactly what you needed after so much time alone feeling pity for yourself. A breath of fresh air for your drowning soul.

Sure, it wasn't the fervent passionate love you felt for Daryl, but it was enough to make you happy.

“I am” you simply answered. “And I hope you found the peace you were looking for”.

Daryl nodded, trying to keep himself together. He was truly glad you were happy but the sorrow he felt knowing he wasn't the reason behind overwhelmed him.

He couldn't blame you. You fought hard for many years to be close to him but the grief blinded him until it was too late. He told you to move on, so you did. It wasn't that hard to understand.

“Thank ya for the medicine and everythin’, angel.” he managed to answer.

Your head buzzed at those words, it took all of your strength to not run into his arms.

“Daryl, I…” you mumbled, hugging yourself afraid of falling apart into pieces.

Wishing he was a better man, Daryl walked towards the door crushed by the reality he was facing. He raised his eyes to yours for one last time.

“My heart will always belong to ya.” Daryl pronounced before crossing the frame of the front door, landing every word right inside your aching heart.

You watched him leave wondering if you were making a mistake, but fully aware that right now, there was nothing you could do.

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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

Text

silly boy

eddie munson x gn!y/n

850 words

you pick eddie up from lockup and give him a good scolding

contains: lil angst, lil fluff, lil bit of hopper, est. relationship, pre-s3-4 tw: cursing, drug mention, jail mention, self-deprecation, scolding a/n: wanting to do more short n’ sweet lil drabbles cause they’re easier more fun and my brain hurt — shoot me some ideas! disc: i do not give permission to share my content outside of tumblr; please reblog and do not repost; my content (even sfw) is not meant for minors; i am not responsible for the media you consume online.

“What the fuck, Munson,” your voice croaks, weighty with a mixture of anger, relief, watching him sheepishly make his way towards you.

You stand beneath the ‘HAWKINS POLICE’ sign, stood in front of Eddie’s van with tightly crossed arms. Hopper nods at you once, eyeing Eddie with final regard before turning back inside.

Eddie holds up placating hands, but something in your gut twists and you purse your lips, almost glaring from behind your lashes. You shift away from him as he draws near, not letting him touch you like he very much wants to. He tries to meet your gaze but keeps looking away.

“y/n, listen, I-“

“No, Eddie — what the fuck?!! Do you know Wayne’s been worried sick about you?? That I- I’ve been looking for you Eds, for days, till Chief Jim Fucking Hopper lets your uncle know you got picked up across state lines?!? What the fuck were you thinking??”

Angry hot tears have begun spilling, dripping heavily from your jaw, but rather than cry you just swallow the knot in your throat and jab a finger into his chest.

“Get in the car, Eddie.”

You hold it there a moment before turning and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Eddie stands there for a moment after you’ve turned away and just, looks down at the pavement, heart in his stomach. After a few beats he sighs, walks around the other side and slowly climbs into the passenger side, dully closing the door.

“You know I don’t care that you sell, Eddie — I don’t; I know that you do it for a reason, God knows I’ve got my fair share from you. But—“ you heave an exasperated sigh and gesture uselessly with your hands before dropping them heavily into your lap.

“What were you doing??”

You look over at him, Eddie looks down into his lap, spinning a ring on one of his jeweled fingers.

“Eds. Lookit me.”

Hesitation, before he lifts his head, shyly gazes with those goddamn big brown doe eyes. You sigh again and lean your head against the headrest, brow knitted.

“Your turn. I’ll stop scolding. What were you doing?”

Eddie’s lips thin as he presses them together, swallowing thickly and shaking his head a little, dispirited and very aware he’s deeply upset you.

“Being, fucking dumb—“

“You’re not dumb Eds you just— you make silly decisions sometimes.”

“Is that not what it means to be dumb?”

“No. It’s not. You’re not dumb. You’re silly. I’m sorry I’m so upset, babe, but… You can understand why, right? Eddie — Wayne was crying.”

That gets his head to snap up again, eyes wide and concerned.

“He couldn’t look for you ‘cause he had to work, so he asked me. We were so worried about you, you hadn’t been picked up yet so they weren’t much help,” you nod towards the police station.

“Called around Hellfire, Hideout, checked out Rick’s,” you give a heavy shrug and then rub your eyes.

“We thought—“ you sigh and sag your shoulders. “I don’t know, Eddie, we thought you got hurt. That something happened. You left your van, so like — what if someone…”

Eddie squeezes your hand and a few more tears drop. He’d had deals go wrong before, bad customers, and even though you knew Eddie, he wasn’t exactly the most well-liked person around town. You’d seen him get hurt before.

“I’m really sorry,” his voice is a little strained, upset that he’s upset you.

“I’m dumb — point fuckin’ blank — I’m dumb. It was a big deal, two-hundred bucks, they wanted to drive out someplace and I’m dumb, I realize how dumb that is now and—“

You kiss him quiet, pulling him in with hands cupped against his neck.

“Eddie Munson you are not fucking dumb!” You giggle tearfully against his lips, foreheads pressed together as he scoops your cheeks up and holds you near, pecking your nose and cheeks.

“I’m an ass, a big giant ass—“

“Shut up,” you hiss with a soft smile, nipping his bottom lip to which he finally utters a deep chuckle.

“You’re a silly, silly boy and you make silly decisions, and I worry about you and you scared me. You’re not dumb,” a smooch to the corner of his mouth, “you’re not an ass,” one to his jaw.

“Just…please, be more fucking careful. Maybe take a break from selling for a bit, yeah? Wayne is gonna have a heart attack if you go missing again, and then I’m gonna have a heart attack, and then who’s gonna pick you up from jail??”

You give his head a little jostle, and he laughs again, nuzzling his nose alongside yours.

“I promise I promise I promise — I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

You giggle and peck another kiss to his cheek before starting up the van.

“Now get buckled, silly boy, I can see the Chief looking through the window.”

Sure enough Jim Hopper’s scowl is visible through the pane, and Eddie snorts as he fastens his belt before you take him home to his waiting uncle.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x gn!y/n #stranger things fic #eddie munson angst #mine #1k

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 10 months

Text

close to home | chapter twenty three

plot: the reader and her family meet Father Gabriel, and the reader confides in Daryl about what happened on the road

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,116 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! shorter than usual cause I've been so busy!!!

When you and Daryl walked inside after the sunset, it seemed like you stepped into another universe. The church had a warm glow from the fire, and laughter filled the atmosphere. Your family was sitting around and eating more food than you’ve had since the prison.

You looked at Daryl and smiled, and he stared down at you before you walked over to Maggie and Glenn. Your side was aching, and you struggled to sit down, all while Maggie attempted to make sure you were okay and then going to get food for you while Glenn chuckled.

“How are you feeling?” Glenn asked.

“Like I got stabbed,” You replied.

Maggie came back and handed you a bowl of some type of stew and bottled water and then sat down again. You thanked her before eating and then listened in on the conversation between Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, and Tara.

Communion wine had been passed around and within an hour, your cheeks were red from the few small sips you had mixed with the pain medication. You were actually full, you felt safe, and you were happy.

Every now and then, you glanced across the room to Daryl, sitting with Carol near Rick, Michonne, and Judith. You’d noticed he wasn’t drinking, though he was eating plenty. He looked at peace, and you could tell how much this moment meant to him. From the months you’ve known him, you knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, and you could see the happiness radiating in him. Even if no one else did.

When your eyes met a few times, you sent him a smile, which of course, he returned with a nod and then looked away.

Once things seemed settled, Abraham toasted the group, talked about surviving, and asked the group to come with them to Washington. You’d heard from Carl earlier that they were headed up there and that Eugene had some sort of cure. You were hesitant about it all. It was an incredibly long journey, and this was a new world.

But Rick agreed to go, and you all cheered at the possibility of saving the world. You weren’t as drunk as some of them and knew of the dangers this decision would bring. But you wanted something to believe in--even if you couldn’t do it all the way.

Eventually, as everyone settled down, you realized Carol and Daryl weren’t there. You figured they’d stepped outside to get some air, and you were sure Daryl was checking in on Carol about what happened with the girls. So you weren’t worrying yet.

But when Sasha noticed Bob was missing too, you felt panic creep into your mind. You tried your best to stand up and go out to help, but Tyreese made you sit back down and wait. He handed you a sleepy Judith and went out to help.

“You think this is Terminus?” Carl asked you, fingers playing with the pistol. He looked down at you and Judith as he paced.

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, rocking the sleeping baby. “Bob, Carol, and Daryl…” You trailed off. You couldn’t imagine anything happening to Carol or Daryl. They were survivors. They were both too good at this world.

Eventually, the group came in with shaking heads, and you could see the frustration on Rick’s face. He came over to you and carefully took the baby, making sure you were okay, and then went to put her down for the night somewhere. Carl huffed and sat down next to you.

It was quiet, which was a stark difference from twenty minutes ago. You glanced at Carl and then at Tora, who had curled beside him. You felt nauseous and faint. You just wanted your people back. You wanted to be able to stand, run, and fight.

You weren’t sure how long the group sat before noises were heard outside, and you managed to limp your way over to the door behind the group to see Bob sitting out in the front yard. Sasha immediately started worrying about his leg, and you moved aside when they brought him in.

Michonne helped you to the side room where Bob was, and you immediately started inspecting his leg. It has been cut, and the lower leg was removed, and they cleaned and wrapped it nicely. You could do nothing besides give him a painkiller and take one yourself.

After making sure he was comfortable and listening to his story about the cannibalistic natures of the Terminus group, you left him alone with Sasha and followed Rick and Michonne out.

“Do you think they have Daryl and Carol?” You asked.

Rick shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. They would’ve taunted us or something…”

You took a deep breath and nodded; Rick was right. They would’ve.

Just when you thought things were mostly settled, Rick and Abraham got into an argument. You stood beside Maggie, holding hands. You were afraid they were about to get physical when Glenn jumped in. Maggie squeezed your hand, and you started sweating.

“I have an idea,” Tara said, stepping up. “If you stay one more day, I’ll go to D.C... No matter what.” Then she looked back at Rick, “Okay?”

It was quiet for a second and you watched Abraham look at Glenn, and then Maggie, and then you.

“Glenn and Maggie too.”

“No.” Rick said.

You shook your head, eyes filling with tears at Abraham’s proposal. Maggie squeezed your hand again, and you brought your other hand to her arm. The idea of saying goodbye to your cousin and never seeing her again was unbearable. She was the only blood family you had left. You couldn’t let her go.

You missed the next altercation between Rick and Abraham, and soon Glenn was yelling again and putting himself between the two of them. “Wait, wait, wait!” He yelled. “You stay--you stay and help us, and we’ll go with you.”

“No,” Rick said.

“It’s not your call,” Glenn said.

Maggie looked at you, and you could see tears in her eyes and shook on her face. You started shaking your head, not believing what you were hearing.

“Half a day,” Abraham finally agreed.

Maggie looked at you again and raised an eyebrow, and you knew exactly what she was asking. Your lips parted, and you looked around the room for half a second as your heart broke. Finally, you nodded.

“We will go with you,” Maggie said, and everyone knew who the ‘we’ was.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

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minervadashwood · 8 days

Text

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 32

~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

~~~~~~~~

Summary: It's been a week or so since Glenn and T-Dog saved Rick. Now, your pack is getting settled in new place. Word count: 3K This chapter contains: Nesting, going into heat, firearms, smut.

Author's note: I am a little behind on posting chapters to tumblr. So I'll be trying to fix that in the next few days.

Nest.

It was all you could think about as you took water and soap to every surface in the kitchen. The other rooms had been cleaned, from top to bottom, including the loft and the basement. The loft had a low ceiling, but Ro and Merle had made their bed up there, using an air mattress and sleeping bags. Carl slept on the main floor, closest to the wood stove, while you, Rick, and Daryl had a makeshift bed in the basement. It was a far cry from your house, a home filled with Daryl’s handiwork, not to mention modern furniture. All that remained were some old, hand-made chairs and a small kitchen table.

This cabin, like the others around it, was old, from the 1850s, you’d guessed, based on the structure and style. In more recent years the land had been repossessed then abandoned. Before then, generations of Dixons had lived here, in their own version of Walton’s mountain, before the Great Depression.

Despite the bedding downstairs in the basement of this old, cozy cabin, your omega was desperate for safety, seclusion, and comfort.

As you cleaned, you were also looking after Carl. He sat at the table, still and focused as he drew pictures to give Lori and Shane when they arrived. He’d grown quiet over the last few days, since you left home.

You hoped, for his sake, that Lori and Shane would get here soon.

The past few days remained a chaotic whirlwind, made all the worse by your biological imperative. Soon after you met Glenn and T-Dog, your mates decided it was time to get out of town, before things got worse.

The next morning, you packed what you could: clothes, food, and supplies. When it came time to pack up the pillows and blankets from your nest, you sat frozen in your nest, trying not to cry. That’s how Daryl found you when it was almost time to go.

“C’mon, Bubbie,” he said, clearing space so he could sit next to you. “You’ll make a new one.”

“You built this for me,” you replied gesturing at the bed, then running your hand along the shelves behind it. “You made this a home. For us.”

Daryl gathered you in his arms. “Yer the one who made it a home. ‘Sides we’ll come back when it dies down.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think we will. The way Glenn describes the city…I don’t think this will be safe for a long time if the dead are migrating here.” You took a deep breath. “I know we have to go.”

“Don’ mean it’s easy,” he said, hugging you. After a moment, he got off the bed and opened one of the cherry wood chests he’d made for your nesting materials. He dumped out all the unused, pillows and blankets, still in their plastic wrapping.

What to take was your decision, but Daryl helped you, arranging everything in the chest, and packing it tightly.

Later, when it was time to go, Rick reassured you, too. “We’ll get you a place for your nest in time.”

“What if we have to move again, while I’m in heat?” you asked. “It will be soon.”

“I know. We both do. That’s why we’re goin’ now. And it’s why we need to stick together. Not just us, but the new guys, too.”

You nodded. Rick wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“We owe them. I owe them,” you said. “They brought you back to me.” Even in the short time you’d known Glenn and T, you knew them to be good people. T-Dog, an alpha, kept his distance from you; he must have known you were close to your heat, but you’d gotten to know Glenn a little. He had strategic way of thinking, and you thought maybe he was some sort of weekend warrior. But no, just a delivery driver.

Now, in the cabin, you gripped the edge of the sink, panic rising. Trying to control your breathing, you glanced at the wooden chest sitting by the basement door. Then, you stared at Carl’s back, as a sudden, unwelcome wave of frustration came over you. Your omega didn’t want him near your nest. In fact, it didn’t even want your mates near it, not yet.

Outside, Merle and Ro kept watch while your mates were clearing out other cabins, making them livable. T and Glenn took one, next to yours. You bristled at having strangers so close by when your heat was imminent, but you owed them.

The front door swung open, and you flinched, letting out a whimper of surprise. Despite the gust of cold wind from the door, you were too hot to even notice, but Carl shivered.

Daryl stepped in, quickly closing the door, and going to add logs to the wood stove.

He took one look at you, and whether it was your bond or Daryl’s keen eye, he seemed to know exactly what you needed. Jutting his chin toward the basement, he sat down next to Carl, distracting the boy while you went to make your nest.

The chest was too heavy for you to carry, and through your bond you felt Daryl’s impulse to help you. Rejecting it and putting up a mental wall, you grabbed armfuls of your blankets and pillows, making a few trips up and down the basement stairs. When you were done, you locked the door at the top of the steps and got to work.

The padded mats you cleaned earlier had dried. One still held hints of Daryl’s musk, pine, so you put it in the center foundation of your nest and started arranging everything around it. Nestled in the corner of the room, the nest began to grow. Releasing your perfume, you set about making the entire area yours. Blankets were piled on top of each other, pillows lined the walls. After hours of work, you were almost satisfied and crept back up the stairs to find the house empty except for Daryl and Rick, who were both pacing in the open-spaced living room and kitchen.

“Carl?” you said, still on edge, but in control of your anxiety for the moment.

“With Jesus.” Rick assured you.

“Whaddaya need from us, Bubbie?” Daryl asked, his voice low and soft.

“I need your clothes, something,” you said, your voice almost whiny. Your first heat had been so perfect. But this heat was different. You couldn’t be sure your pack would even be safe here, or how long you could stay in one place. Especially with Rick and Daryl unable to protect everyone like they had been.

Wasn’t it selfish of you to need them like you did? Not just one, but both? Yet how could you choose? Yes, you were more in sync with Daryl, but he’d claimed you and been with you for half a year now. You cared just as much for Rick, and soon you’d be bonded with him, too.

Daryl started striding across the room, but you backed away, shaking your head.

“Not yet.”

Rick shrugged out of his fur-lined deputy’s coat and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it as you watched. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, his soft dusting of hair enticing. Your stomach clenched and all you wanted was to lay on top of him and let him ease the growing ache in your belly.

Meanwhile, Daryl froze in place, and, although it took you a moment, you finally realized what you’d inadvertently asked of him. Quickly, you opened your suitcase and started pulling out unwrapped Christmas presents. What a simpler time that had been, when your most pressing worry was dropped stitches and miscounted rows.

Setting some things on the kitchen table, you approached Daryl with his poncho, it was hooded, with two layers of thick wool.

“Trade for your coat?” you asked him.

He took it and brought it to his nose, sniffing deeply.

“Ya make this? Fer me?”

You nodded. “I did some research and it’s supposed to keep you warm while you use your crossbow.”

Your mate’s face was red, and he was blinking quickly as he stared down at the gift.

“Merry Christmas,” you said quietly. Daryl nodded without looking up, refusing to meet your eyes or Rick’s.

“I-I-I have more,” you stammered, unnerved by Daryl’s reaction. Why would he cry over a poncho? You gave Rick his wide scarf and matching gloves. Daryl had a pair of gloves, too, fingerless with rubber grips sewn on the underside—for driving his motorcycle.

“Bunny,” Rick breathed, still shirtless and sniffing his scarf. “These are amazing. And your scent is all over them.”

Daryl grunted, and got out of his coat, handing it to you, and putting on his poncho.

“’S real nice, ‘mega,” he said, adjusting the poncho on his shoulders then grabbing his crossbow from where it sat nearby.

Clutching Daryl’s coat and then grabbing Rick’s shirt, you said. “Soon. But --”

Daryl looked up. “Ya dun wan’ anyone in ‘ere but us.”

You nodded.

Rick said, “While your finishin’ up, we’ll get Carl settled in with Jesus. Already talked to him about your heat.”

“You did?”

“Carl knows that you’ll need me— us -- for a few days.”

Of course, children knew, vaguely what an omega in heat entailed. Not the actual mating, but the privacy, the duty of alphas to care for their partners.

“And the others?” you asked.

“Merle swore off drinkin’ an’ Ro’s good with the kid. Glenn and T helpin’ with keepin’ watch.”

Their reassurances consoled you. Besides, the betas in your pack knew what they needed to do, and you trusted them. But Carl…he had been taken from his mom and now his dad, too.

You pointed to two crocheted Woobles on the table. “These are for Carl.” Both were dinosaurs from his favorite cartoon.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” Rick said.

“Go’n now,” Daryl told you, jutting his chin at the basement door. “Be dark soon, an’ cold.”

You nodded, renewed determination compelling you to tweak your nest until it was perfect and cozy for your alphas, for yourself, and for the days that followed.

Finally, your nest was as close to perfect as it was going to get. Surveying the pile of blankets and pillows, your omega was finally happy to have a place to share with your mates.

Despite the stress of the past few days, a glimmer of happiness bloomed. Rick could claim you. Daryl would make love to you. And the world outside would fall away.

Skin still hot, you left the basement in search of your men. You’d been cramping steadily for the past hour, nothing unmanageable but growing more intense as time went on.

Outside, you heard the rumble of engines, and a wave of tension hit you. Not your own, but Daryl’s

Grabbing your coat, you ran outside, finding Daryl on the porch and Rick standing in the worn path near the house. A little behind Rick were Merle and Ro; Merle with a shotgun pointed at the winding path that led to the cabins.

In the distance, three vehicles approached, a Jeep, a Cherokee, and an RV.

“That’s Shane and Lori,” Rick said, but his hand was on the butt of his revolver, you noticed.

You approached Daryl, standing next to him as he held his crossbow, lowered, but seemingly ready to aim at a moment’s notice.

“You said it was just them two,” Merle shouted. “Then explain the rest of ‘em.”

The cars continued to approach, Rick glanced around, his eyes landing on Merle, who had his rifle raised.

“Put that down, Merle,” Rick ordered.

“Ya gonna make me?”

Daryl gruffly shouted, “Merle!”

Merle shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. If y’all wanna risk it, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Glenn, from across the way, spoke up. “It’s all good. More people, yeah? Safer that way.”

You agreed with Glenn and Rick, at least on principle. Yet, right now, on the verge of your heat, the thought of strangers being near you or your nest, felt like a threat on your pack’s territory.

Just then, Carl ran out of the cabin next door, without a coat on. Merle lowered his gun even more at the sight of the pup, but you could still see the tension in his shoulders. Next to him, Ro was quiet and still, his hand at his side holding a gun.

The red Jeep barely came to a stop before Lori appeared, throwing herself out of the passenger side door and running to Carl. Shane got out, too, and you relaxed at that. If Rick trusted Shane enough to tell him about this place, then the people with Shane had to be trustworthy, too, right?

Shane’s scent didn’t alarm you, not like it had the first time you’d met him, but there were more alphas’ scents emanating as other people emerged from their vehicles. One alpha’s odor burnt in your nostrils; when a balding, scowling man looked your way, you knew it was him. In the same car were a thin woman and a cowering little girl, who was around Carl’s age.

The alpha stared at you, his eyes bulging, it seemed, making you gasp and hide behind Daryl. Daryl squared his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the crossbow as Rick took an intimidating step toward the strange alpha.

Still, the frightening man didn’t look away.

Rick’s voice sliced through your fog. “Inside. Now.”

Not a command, and not directed at you.

Daryl said, “Holler if—”

“I will,” Rick replied, keeping his eyes on the strangers.

Daryl took you by the arm and guided you back into the cabin. Inside the warm living room, you took off your outerwear as quickly as you donned it moments ago. Your body was at war with your mind. Cramps of need swept through your middle, beginning the incessant pulsing at your core. You reached for the kitchen table to steady yourself, but Daryl caught you, holding you tightly against him, your backside pressing against his front. Slick moistened your underwear, and Daryl’s reaction was nearly instantaneous as you felt him grow hard against you.

Glancing out the windows to see Rick shaking hands with the strangers, you trembled as Daryl let out a possessive growl and rubbed his scent on you. Melting against him with a whimper, you let your instincts take over, ignoring the activity outside. With a huff, Daryl let go of you for just a moment to shoulder his crossbow, then he practically shoved you to the basement door. Eagerly you obeyed, flying down the stairs and burrowing on top of your nest.

“Daryl,” you whined, stripping off your layers of warm clothing and gazing up at him.

He locked the door, and after placing his weapon nearby, Daryl laid next to you, pulling you against him and running his teeth along your neck.

“Fuck, Bubbie,” he groaned, and began kissing his mark. With his hand on your hip, he pulled you to him and threw a leg over you, kissing and fondling you onto your back. Ridding himself quickly of his clothes, Daryl lowered himself above you, his bare skin on yours as he settled between your legs and kissed you again.

Your core throbbed, clenching and unclenching, demanding more than kisses from the alpha on top of you. Daryl started pressing his cock to the apex of your thighs, just slowly grinding his hips against you as his mouth and hands worked you to a fever pitch. You grabbed at him, too, sinking your nails into his back, squeezing his upper arms, reaching for his ass to urge him closer. Daryl was frantic and somehow still gentle, knowing all your favorite places for his mouth and hands. The scent of your arousal only grew stronger, and Daryl groaned in response. Fumbling, he rearranged himself so he rested on one forearm while his other hand cupped your mound. Taking one breast into his mouth, Daryl sucked and nipped at your sensitive bud as he slipped a finger inside you.

“Yer so wet, ‘mega’” he told you, “Jus’ lettin’ me right in. Feel so good on my hand.”

Your belly fluttered at his praise. Raising your hips to meet his hand you moved slowly, then with more intensity as he added another finger. His hand knew just how to make you come unraveled.

“Yes, Daryl, please .” you begged, getting close.

Suddenly, Daryl’s fingers left you, and you cried out in protest. He silenced you with a kiss on your mouth, immediately breaching the seam of your lips with his tongue. At the same time, his cock slipped through your folds and found its home in your soaking, needy pussy.

“Ye-e-e-sss,” you moaned. His cock was so big and perfect, stretching you and filling you. When he started moving you hung onto him for dear life, savoring the feel of him inside you, of his mouth on yours, of his entire body caging you in.

In your soul, you felt Daryl too, his passion and his desire, crashing into you the more he worked your body. He paused his kisses and locked eyes with you, holding your face in his hands as he thrust, the steady movement of his cock inside you sending you over the edge.

“I love you, Daryl,” you moaned, pulsing around him and holding his gaze. His knot notched into place, and he came, filling you even more. Nuzzling your gland and his mark, Daryl kissed you gently, then his mouth moved, lightly kissing your jaw then your mouth. He collapsed on top of you then rolled you over so you could lay on his chest, his knot holding you together. Reaching beside you, you found one of your favorite knitted blankets and covered you both.

Still breathing heavily, Daryl cradled you in his arms, teeth teasing your earlobe as you sighed against him.

“I love ya, too, Bubbie,” he whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time.

You wondered if he felt the fullness of your heart through the bond. He must have because he sighed and relaxed, whispering more sweet words in your ear.

“So perfect, my omega, so strong.”

Almost nothing else existed as Daryl held you in your makeshift nest. Only one piece was missing, and as you nestled into Daryl’s chest, you hoped that Rick would join you soon.

To be continued.

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appocalipse · 2 years

Text

Pancakes & Secrets | eddie munson x reader x steve harrington

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x henderson!reader (female pronouns used) x Steve Harrington

Words: 2.8k

Summary: After witnessing enough mutual pining from the guy you’re in love with and his ex-girlfriend, you leave under the pretense of bringing food to “Eddie the banished”, as he likes to call himself. But things take a turn for the worse when Jason and his gang finally find out where Eddie is hiding, and you have to spend the night outside in the cold, with no way to let your friends know you’re okay, and only Eddie for company....but actually, maybe he is not so bad.

A/N: hello! it’s me again. this time I bring you a new series that (if you guys enjoy it) will eventually split into two “routes” — one for Steve and one for Eddie, following the events of season 4 and beyond. I’ll try to keep from writing the scenes we already watched, though, so I’ll only briefly explain what happened in said scenes when needed and focus on the scenes that involve Eddie x Reader or Steve x Reader for this chapters. Also, IDK why, but I’m obsessed with the henderson!reader concept, so it’s here once again lmao sue me.

---------

You take a look at Reefer Rick’s old house, plastic bags in hand, car turned off behind you, and wonder how on God’s green Earth you ended up here.

The answer, actually, is very clear: making bad decisions.

You move straight to the door, but hesitate; should you knock? By now, Eddie has surely heard the car, or your footsteps, and you’re hardly trying to hide your presence. But after everything he’s been through, you think it’s not fair to risk scaring him anymore, since you couldn’t even let him know you were coming because the walkie-talkie stayed with Dustin at the mansion — along with a few pieces of your broken heart, most likely.

You balance both plastic bags in one hand and use the other to gently but audibly knock three times, still thinking about all the stupid things you've been doing lately. Eddie opens the door two seconds later, looking like someone who has just seen a fish climbing a tree.

“Hey,” he says uncertainly, tilting his head to the side as if trying to decipher you. “Is something wrong?”

Eddie reaches out and indicates the bags, waiting for you to give him permission to take them. When he closes his fingers around the straps and you don't protest—in fact, you look relieved; it was a little heavy—Eddie takes both bags in one hand and politely holds the door open for you to walk through with the other.

“Thanks,” you say, also walking on eggshells. Your knowledge of Eddie ends with him being the leader of Hellfire Club and the newest idol of your little brother Dustin; you’re not exactly friends, to put it simply, but now you’re also hardly strangers. “And no, nothing is wrong. I just thought I’d bring you some...pancakes.”

You realize mid-sentence how absurd that sounded. Eddie is wanted for murder, and you thought it would be a good idea to make him pancakes of all things.

By the look on his face, Eddie thinks the same, though his tone is far from judgemental. “Pancakes?”

You take the frying pan out of one of your bags, now on the table where Eddie put them down for you. He watches you curiously as you take out all the items you would need. “You don’t like pancakes?”

“Love them,” he is quick to respond, in a tone that’s energetic and charming, very Eddie-like.

“Good.”

He sits around the kitchen table, resting his chin on his hand, trying to act casual as he watches you work. But Eddie Munson is not casual. He's not normally calm and patient, but under the current circumstances, it's a miracle he sits back and watches you long enough for you to at least finish mixing the ingredients—which doesn't take even five minutes. When you put the batter in the frying pan, however, Eddie's curiosity gets the better of him.

“So...don’t get me wrong, it’s great to have company and all, but...why are you here?”

You take a deep, annoyed breath — but it’s not his question that annoys you; it’s the answer. Because, for some reason, you end up saying the truth. Angrily.

“Couldn’t stand the mutual pining any longer, I guess.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot even higher, no doubt sensing something juicier behind what you just said. “Mutual pining?”

“Never mind,” your brain catches up to your mouth as you carefully flip a pancake; it lands perfectly back on the frying pan, and Eddie lets out a low whistle.

“Impressive,” he compliments, genuinely enough. When you look at him over your shoulder, his expression reminds you of that of a small kid full of joy and dreams, and somehow you know he is genuine in his attempt to cheer you up. Eddie seems to be a glass-half-full kind of guy, and for a moment, you feel tempted to forget all about Steve and Nancy.

When the first pancake is all done, the right shade of golden on both sides, you place it on a clean plate and hand it to Eddie, hiding your anticipation.

He takes a big bite, eyes going dramatically wide, a satisfied smile on his face. Eddie then stops for a second and says, covering his mouth full of pancake, “You’re my new favorite person, Y/N.”

He sees when you smile; sweet and embarrassed in equal measure; but he also notices that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You look suddenly so sad for someone who just made the world's best pancakes.”

“I highly doubt those are the world’s best pancakes,” you say nonchalantly, but the longer his gaze lingers on you, the harder it is to keep the words at bay. There is a part of you that desperately wants to get it out of your system...Maybe it will help?

Before you know it, your mouth is opening, more than ready to spill the words way too quickly.

“Okay, fine, you win,” you shrug. “There is this guy I-” Love? “-like, but he is in love with someone else. There. Satisfied?”

There are a lot of things going through Eddie Munson's mind right now. First, you are not what he expected; of course, Dustin always made you seem nice when he talked about you, but he's your brother, so Eddie tended to take his opinions of you with a grain of salt — especially because he knew you had your fair share of admirers and you were far from being an outcast like him.

But now, seeing you up close, the smell of freshly made pancakes in the air, and hearing you confess to what is probably a big secret, he understands.

Honestly, he is glad to have something to occupy his mind with other than monsters and murder.

“Uh...would this someone��happen to be his ex-girlfriend?” he asks, his curious nature once again getting the better of him.

You’re halfway through flipping a pancake over, the last one, and it almost falls to the floor as his words sink in.

“Sorry...I pay attention.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, placing the pancakes on the table and taking the seat opposite him. “I guess it’s obvious.”

“Have you told him?”

You scoff. “No. Why would I?”

Eddie happily takes another pancake. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because. He is clearly into her and she is clearly into him...basic math there.”

Eddie smirks — he has a nice smile, you think, like sitting under the sunlight on a cold day; easy, comfortable. “You know, Henderson once told me his older sister wasn’t afraid of anything...does he have any other siblings I don’t know about?”

“Very funny,” you mock, letting out a forced laugh to further prove your point. “I’m not afraid of telling him. I just think it’ll get me nowhere.”

Eddie is going for a third pancake, seemingly very pleased with himself. “If you say so, Y/N.”

You are definitely afraid of telling Steve.

Eddie opens his mouth, and you think he's going to say more about your little crush on Steve, but then he stops; for a second you feel relieved, but Eddie freezes, trying to listen better, putting down the pancake he was about to take a bite of.

Something is wrong.

“Did you hear that?” he murmurs, color slowly draining from his face.

That's when you hear it— a car door closing, voices, loud angry voices, and then… footsteps. Eddie is faster than you. He reaches across the table to grab your hand and crouches down, bringing you with him, trying to keep you both out of sight of the kitchen window. A look outside confirms what you feared: it's not the police, but just as bad (or maybe worse): is Chrissy's boyfriend, Jason. And he's coming straight to the front door.

“Eddie-”

Placing a finger over his mouth, Eddie signals for you to follow him — although his fingers are still firmly closed over your hand, so there’s little you could do but follow behind him.

You get to the back door at the same time you hear the front door opening. Eddie points to the boathouse, all focused on the best route to get away; you nod. Then, you run — silently.

When the door is safely — and silently — closed behind you both, Eddie lets go of your hand to grab a hold of the walkie-talkie, hands shaking.

“Dustin?” he pleads, wide eyes reflecting your own as you wait. No answer. “Dustin...please. Are you there?”

Through the small window of the boathouse, you can see movement inside the main house. Jason and the others must be searching it right now, looking for any leads to get Eddie. You've never exchanged a single word with Jason, but you know the chances of him having any sympathy for you are slim; Dustin is part of Hellfire Club, and now you’re hiding Eddie — well, more like hiding with Eddie, but still. Trying to talk to him would be simply stupid.

“Let me try,” you snatch the walkie-talkie from Eddie, who only shrugs, moving away to look around for something you could use. “Dustin, c’mon. We kinda need help over here.”

It’s funny — he is always with the damn thing on his hand when you don’t actually need him to be.

“Hey.”

Eddie is holding the tarp that covered the little — and no doubt old — boat, the same in which he was hiding when you found him the first time, broken bottle in hand and all. He extends his hand to you. “C’mon.”

You stare at him. Then at the boat. Then at his hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” He gestures towards the boat dramatically. “Your carriage awaits, milady.”

He may jest, but beneath all that, there’s the desperation, the tension, the eagerness to get away. Not that you’re not feeling those yourself.

“Also,” he adds, as if reading your mind, “please hurry.”

“I’m not a fan of boats.”

He takes a step closer to you, hand still outstretched. “I’m not a fan of getting killed by high school athletes.”

Well...fair enough, you think. And take his hand.

–

In spite of all the ways you thought your night could end, this one slipped your mind.

It's dark and cold, and you and Eddie are walking to seemingly nowhere after witnessing what is probably the worst scene of your lives — well, it sure does make it to the top three for you, at least.

You let Eddie walk ahead, hurried steps but soft gaze every time he turns around to make sure you're following. The entire path you are walking looks the same to you, but he seems to know what he's doing. You don't protest.

What was his name again? You think, trying to keep the grotesque image of the last few minutes of that boy's life out of your mind, and failing miserably. Patrick, Jason had called him. Desperately, as every bone in his body began twisting and breaking...

A hand on your shoulder startles you, and you look up to meet Eddie’s concerned gaze, only then noticing you had stopped walking. “You okay?”

That’s what Eddie saw the night Chrissy died?

“Yeah.” No.

Eddie drops his hand, nodding. “Let’s stay here for a minute. I don’t think they are still following us.”

He sits down, leaning against a big, old-looking tree nearby, slowly patting the ground beside him. The moonlight is the only thing available to guide your movements as you sit down, hugging yourself, mind anywhere but there with him. You’re both still damp from the little dive you had to pull when Vecna made another victim, and you rub your own arms to fight the cold creeping up your skin.

Eddie stares down at you, feeling anxious, worried, and guilty all at the same time.

He’s not oblivious to the way you reacted when the boat shook and you fell down to the water. You look like you’ve just been through hell, wet hair sticking to your neck and hands shaking as you hug your knees to your chest. But what really makes Eddie worry is the look on your face; staring but simply not seeing...a look he knows well.

You feel more than you register it happening; a heavy — still very damp, but kind of warm — thing being gently placed over your shoulders. Eddie’s jacket.

He gives you a nonchalant wink when you look up at him.

–

Eddie didn’t mean to leave you behind. Not even for a minute. But, once he heard voices nearby, he knew the right thing to do was investigate. You two couldn’t keep sitting there in the forest forever; he needed to find a way to contact Dustin.

And so he did.

But, he had to leave you behind in the process. You had eventually fallen asleep, head against the trunk of the tree...and he just couldn’t bring himself to wake you up. What is the worse it could happen?

Just a minute.

When he gets back — fist closed safely around a newfound walkie-talkie he proudly and subtly stole, ready to use it — you’re not fucking sleeping where he left you.

He freaks out.

There is a sane part of his mind that says, maybe she just went home. Maybe she found her way out of the woods and left you here. It’s not like she is a police fugitive; it was dark yesterday, maybe Jason and his idiots didn’t recognize her?

He keeps calling your name anyway.

“HENDERSON, I SWEAR TO GOD-”

Eddie hears rustling...and then a small hand is somehow placed over his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ, Munson. Yell a little bit louder. I don’t think they heard you all the way from California.”

He blankly stares at you, bewildered a curse word just left your mouth. You’re now wearing his jacket properly, arms through the sleeves, he notices. You drop your hand.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

“Where did you go?”

He lifts his arm, showing you the walkie-talkie. “To get this little guy.”

Finally, good news.

“You wanna do the honors?” Eddie is quick to tune in to the correct channel.

“No, thanks.”

He wastes no time. “Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler?”

Not even a second later, you hear your brother’s voice through the radio, voice frantic, words slurred.

“Eddie, holy shit, are you okay? Is Y/N with you? She said she would bring you food yesterday and-”

“Yeah, she’s here.”

“Is she okay? What happened?” a voice frantically asks from the other side, but that’s not your brother’s voice.

It’s Steve’s. Eddie notices too.

You cross your arms. He gives you a meaningful look. “She is okay, man, do you wanna-”

You shake your head emphatically, sure he's going to ask if they'd like to speak with you. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t insist. Girls. So complicated.

“I mean, she’s uh, she is sleeping now,” he says, shrugging at your unreadable expression. “But perfectly fine, I assure you.”

There’s a collective sigh of relief from the other side before Dustin’s voice speaks again. “Where are you?”

After directions are given and goodbyes are said, you and Eddie are once again left with no other thing to do than wait, and so you sit back down, hands running through your now almost completely dry hair. It’s not long before you hear rustling behind you, and turning around, you’re faced with none other than Steve Harrington himself, half walking, half running down the hill as he spots you.

“Y/N,” he says, relief clear in his features, gaze finding yours.

“Hi,” you utter, breath caught in your throat.

Somewhere in your mind, you register that the others are following behind him, beginning to come into view. Dustin first, then Robin and Nancy, Max and Lucas...the whole gang. But that information barely has time to sink in, because Steve steps forward and wraps his arms around you like it’s nobody’s business, so fast and firmly that you stumble back one step.

What the-

You want to say something, anything, but you feel like your brain is short-circuiting now, body suddenly stiff, lips parting to say words you’re not able to get out.

“We thought one of you had died,” Robin explains, catching your gaze from behind Steve’s shoulder. “Vecna made another victim.”

He pulls back, keeping you at arm’s length, eyes scanning over your face with intent. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Then, his eyes fall over what you’re wearing — Eddie’s jacket.

“No, no, I’m okay.”

Steve may try to hide the frown that threatens to appear over his features, but Eddie himself is the first one to catch on to the puzzled look in his eyes; he could almost see the kinds of thoughts running inside his mind.

There, Eddie thinks, as Dustin is letting go of him to hug his sister next.

taglist: @sweet--em

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estrellami-1 · 11 months

Text

Steddie Week 2023

May 26 Prompt: Together/Established Relationship

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 6, Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve takes a shaky breath as he watches the news on TV. The kids are safe, Robin’s safe, Eddie-

Eddie’s trailer, in the background.

Eddie’s living room, a crime scene.

The kids are safe, Robin’s safe, but Eddie-

“Steve!” Dustin yells as he bursts into Family Video. “How many phones do you have?”

“What?” Steve asks, finally tearing his eyes from the TV. “Why?”

Dustin vaults over the counter, ignoring Steve and Robin’s warnings against doing that very thing. “Dude, the tapes,” Steve groans.

“Dingus, control your child,” Robin jokes, and Steve throws her a look.

“If I could, I would.”

Dustin waves his hands in front of them. “Hello! Emergency? Phones? How many?”

“Christ, kid, why?” Steve asks again.

Dustin huffs like Steve’s being an idiot. “Because. My friend Eddie’s missing.” He catches sight of the TV and gestures at it. “See? He’s not a murderer, though. I have a list of his friends, acquaintances, whatever.”

Steve rolls his eyes, grabs at the list, scans it. Smiles when he realizes exactly where his boyfriend must’ve gone. “No need,” he says, shoving the list back at Dustin. “Robin, you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she promises, ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “C’mon, squirt.”

Dustin splutters. “Is anyone gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Language, dude,” Steve chides. “We’re gonna find Eddie. I know where he is.”

“How-”

“Shotgun!” Robin yells, racing to the passenger side of the car and tugging twice on the handle.

Steve levels an unimpressed eyebrow on her. “What are you, twelve?” She sticks her tongue out at him. “Oh, very mature.”

He unlocks the doors and they all pile in. “Buckle up,” he says, and peels out of the parking lot.

The drive to Reefer Rick’s is usually twenty minutes.

Steve makes it in twelve.

He’s out of the car before it’s settled, running past the house to the boat shed. “Eds?” He asks. “You here? It’s Steve, Robin, and Dustin. Just us, I swear, you’re safe, Eds.”

Dustin hurries up, barging ahead into the building. “Eddie? Are you in here?”

Steve sees a tarp move and makes a split-second decision. “Dustin, you and Robin go check the house, okay? I’ll stay out here and keep looking, but it doesn’t look like he’s here.”

“Okay,” Dustin agrees, running off with Robin in tow.

Steve eases into the boathouse, lets the door shut behind him. “The door’s closed, baby. Just you and me. I know you’re under the tarp. Are you gonna come out?”

Silence, then the quietest he’s ever heard his boyfriend, “No.”

“Can you tell me why not?”

“They think I killed her.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. I know you, Eds, I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m here for you, I’m here to help you.”

“How?”

“Well, a wise man once said a good hug can fix most your problems.”

The tarp shivers. A silent laugh. “Don’t let Wayne hear you. He’ll get a big head.”

“He deserves it. He’s right.”

Silence for another minute, then the tarp shifts, exposing Eddie’s face. “Stevie?”

Steve smiles softly. “Hey, Eds. You ready to come out?”

“I think I’m going crazy,” Eddie admits.

Steve can’t help the chuckle. “I know. You’re not, if it helps. Real life is just this crazy sometimes.”

Eddie shakes his head. “This is voodoo-level shit, Stevie. I’m scared.”

Steve’s heart breaks. “I know, baby. I know. And I know it might be hard to believe, but I’ve been through this before.” He edged closer to the boat, sits down right at the edge so they’re face-to-face. “Remember Starcourt?”

“The earthquake that stunk of government?”

Steve nods. “Russians. Among other things. The thing that’s behind all of this… we’ve fought him before. We hurt him, really bad, last time, but didn’t manage to kill him. And now he’s back. But we’re more prepared this time, I swear. We’re gonna be fine.” He frames Eddie’s face in his hands. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he says, so seriously his voice breaks.

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears. “I know,” he whispers. “And that’s what scares me. I don’t want to do this without you. And if you keep jumping in front of everyone-”

“Hey,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s head a little. “I’ve got you now. I’m not gonna do that. But I’m not gonna let you do that, either, you hear me? We’re gonna get through this. Together.”

“Together,” Eddie breathes, nodding. He clambers out of the boat and into Steve’s lap, tucking his face in Steve’s neck. “Together,” he mumbles again, and it feels like a tattoo on Steve’s neck.

The door to the boathouse creaks open, revealing Dustin. “What the fuck,” he says, judging them with his eyebrows.

Steve judges him right back. “What?”

Dustin waves a hand at them. “This? How do you know each other?”

“We’re boyfriends,” Steve says, apropos of nothing. “We’ve known each other for years, though.”

Dustin splutters. “But- you- Nancy! And Robin!”

“I did date Nancy for a while,” Steve agrees. “Came running to Eddie when she broke my heart. He put it back together.”

“Aww, Stevie,” Eddie coos teasingly, still hiding. Steve pokes his ribs.

“And I’m a lesbian,” Robin says, knocking Dustin’s hat over his eyes. “Also, dude, you’ve gotta stop trying to get people together.”

Dustin blinks. “I- whatever. Eddie. We know you didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says petulantly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Quit being contrary.”

“You quit being contrary.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

Eddie shrugs. “Still kinda freaking out.”

Steve sighs, hugs Eddie tighter. “I know. I’m sorry. We know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eds, but as long as the general public thinks you did, we’ve gotta keep you out of sight.”

Eddie looks at Steve pleadingly. “Your place?”

Steve smiles at him. “Yeah, we can go to mine.” He turns to Dustin. “Get everyone on the walkies. Tell them to meet at mine in fifteen minutes. Code red.”

Dustin nods and runs back to the car.

“Hey,” Robin says, tilting her head to meet Eddie’s eye. She smiles when they lock gazes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not sure I am, Birdie, but thanks.”

They stand and make their way to the car.

Together.

#steddieweek2023 #prompt: together #prompt: established relationship #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #starambles

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sinsandsweetness · 4 months

Text

cw- smutty stuff, free use concept but very much consensual (Rick x reader mostly but all of the boys x reader mentioned too)

note- small blurb that’s totally not proofread, and will probably edit at another time. haven’t written in a few weeks so feeling rusty… feedback is apreciated or just general commentary ofc. have been in a really lovey, gentle, sweet smut mood lately so this is what ur getting sorry. don’t know why I’m so obsessed with reader being a form of escape but… ya. enjoy:)

Been having the filthiest thoughts about being the community free use slut. Everyone using you to relieve some stress. Yes, you read that right; everyone. You’re their perfect little plaything that will never say no. That just gets on her knees and takes it. No matter when or where.

It starts way at the beginning, with Shane and Daryl and Merle. Them taking turns dragging you to their tents, late at night when everyone else is asleep. Sometimes it’s just one of them, but other times they share. Take you at the same time and fill as many holes as they can. Leave you with the faintest blue and purple marks scattered all over your neck for the rest of the group to squint at in the morning. To gossip and whisper about over breakfast. Your berry stained lips and innocent eyes reminding them all of a pretty little doll they seem to treat you like.

And then you get to the prison, where things are tense, and discover that your… well, intimate service are needed more than ever. Acting as the only acceptable vice for the group to take their frustrations out on, in what you would describe as a relatively healthy way. At least considering the alternative. So while Rick is losing his mind and you’re already sharing a cell, he decides to try what a few of his friends have been doing right from the start. Using your pretty mouth as the escape they claim that works so well.

And he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact you’re more than willing. To let him urge you into the cell way before the sun has set. To let him drag you down to his bunk in the middle of the night where he doesn’t waste any time peeling your sleep shorts off in a mess of tangled sheets and blankets. And the whole time he’s with you, your lips burn hot as they trail down his neck and nip at newly sunburnt skin. You kiss him without thinking and your tongue tastes like toothpaste and bad decisions as it traces over his own and your hands seem to know the exact spots that have him pushing his jeans down to his ankles in almost shameful, record breaking time. But he doesn’t seem to mind because most importantly, having you right beneath him in the dim lit concrete cell, means that his mind, even just momentarily, is finally blank. For a few minutes, as long as you keep bringing your lips back to meet his, he has nothing to worry about. No crying newborn baby, no walkers, no fast spreading diseases or quarantines or mysterious unsolved murders. Nothing. Well, except the volume at which your pretty little moans are crawling their way up your chest and taunting your next door cell mates.

It’s when he finally has your legs wrapped around his waist and you’re so fucking warm and holy shit you’re wet, and your hands won’t leave his shoulders and your nails are scratching and raking down his back in the most pleasurable burn he could ever imagine… that, that is when it comes to him. When he finally fucking get’s it.

He understands exactly why every time it came to going on a run or splitting the group up, Daryl was always first to claim you as his partner. Why Shane was so obsessed with fixing some damn watch he found you so you could meet him out behind the barn or on the edge of the woods wearing nothing but a sundress and a smile, not a minute later then midnight. He even understood why Merle was acting uncharacteristically nicer to you than anyone else as he pouted and paced around his cell, begging for all kinds of attention but only really wanting the one. The one that was proving to be completely and irrationally addictive the more Rick thought about it. The more he focused on your skin under his hands and how sweet your voice sounded when you could no longer form a coherent sentence.

While he catches his breath, arms still wrapped around your waist, he can feel your legs trembling on either side of him as your hands continue to cup his face ever so gently. He doesn’t even open his eyes when you lean in to bite his lip and drag it out slowly before peppering sweet, meaningless kisses all down his jaw, neck and shoulders. It’s then, when your touch is making the back of his neck tingle and his breath hitch in his throat that he can’t help but feel like he’s been missing out. A whole year of this that the other guys have been experiencing? It doesn’t really seem fair. Not now that he’s had a taste. Now that he knows exactly why every man you’ve encountered since the world went to shit, has taken such an extreme and undeniable liking to you. Not now that he feels like he has to make up for lost time, pressing his forehead against yours and rocking himself back into you for the second time that night. You don’t object. You just spread your legs even further and pull at the damp curls at the base of his neck, silently urging him to keep on moving.

You don’t mind being used. Not really. It’s what you’re there for. To distract him from the horrors of the world and remind him that there’s still at least one thing worth living for. Even if it’s just a warm body in a shared bottom bunk. You’re there to ensure that the scowl lines on his face soften and his eyes close in pure, unfocused elation while he forces your hips even deeper into the mattress with involuntary moan that escapes your lips.

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cultofdixon · 1 year

Text

I love you, please don’t push me away

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • “Can I see it…” “since when did you start to care about me again?” “I’ve lost too much. I ain’t gonna lose yea now” • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence [Mentioned] / Injuries / Messy Confessions / Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares / PTSD

Requested by: Anon

Nothing tears these two apart, well. Except that time with the Governor but every fiber of their being magnetized toward the other.

Y/N and Daryl, inseparable. But never an item even if there is a running bet between Rick and Carol over how long it’ll take.

The run down?

Daryl never saw himself relate with any of the other members in the quarry. Except for this other lone wolf type that would wander out of bounds to hunt, like him. And ignore Shane’s stupid rule, like him and Merle. And also have a short fuse just like him.

He stumbled across this person during his own hunt finding the woman bashing in the skull of a walker. She turned around when she noticed she was stumbled upon by a living being, her body relaxed when realizing who it was. Which was a new feeling to Daryl.

“Shane sent yea out or what”

“Nah fuck that pig. Was tracking a deer”

“You mean that deer” The woman pointed to the hanging animal from the tree as Daryl gave the whole scene a concerned look. “Camping tips can help in the end of the world”

“Bear tactics”

“Exactly. Tie up your shit so bears don’t get it. But hell you’ve got sickos. Might as well apply those tactics to these fucks” She kicked the dead creature while pulling out her knife. “I’m uh. Y/N. By the way…you ain’t very talkative in the camp”

“Neither are yea.” He scoffs. “‘M Daryl”

“Welp. Now you’ve got a friend.” Y/N untied the deer letting it hit the ground by Daryl’s feet. “And if we’re gonna be friends. You can carry that for me, to avoid the Walker guts getting on everybody’s dinner”

“What do I get for doing this?”

“Mmm…I’m pretty good at making arrows” Y/N shrugs watching the pondering look grow on Daryl’s face before he knelt down and picked up the deer heading back to the camp while she happily follows behind.

That first moment brought an instant connection that Daryl didn’t realize. Until he got shitty news.

“You left my brother? On a fucking roof?” Daryl snaps and right before the archer got close to hitting the stranger, Y/N stepped between the two along with Shane’s help. Not that she needed it.

“Who do you think you are to make that decision?”

“Rick Grimes, deputy—-“

“Nah. I ain’t dealing with another pig thinking he can boss everybody around” Y/N cuts him off as she stood her ground even if it didn’t entirely involve her. “How would you feel if you were left behind? Left for dead” She knew her words struck a few in the crowd, specifically Shane and Lori.

“I was left behind” Rick suddenly got up in Y/N’s face not liking her attitude but right as he did, Daryl didn’t hesitate to loom from behind her making him back up.

“And how the fuck did that make you feel?”

That brought a lot of her character out to Daryl and everyone else. She was defensive and it was clear, when she gets close to someone…she has to protect them in some way.

When the invasion happened on the camp, Daryl never been more driven by his anxiety and his fear until he thought he’d lose the closest person he’s liked in the longest time. He took out a walker coming up behind Y/N when she wasn’t paying attention. The thankful look in her eyes spoke enough even if after taking care of the walkers, Daryl subtly scanned her person as he helped the others pile up the dead.

The plan to head to the CDC was a gamble, but the ride there brought more out of the two. Given Y/N loaded up in Daryl’s truck not wanting to be stuck in the RV.

“Why’d yea defend me back when we found out they left Merle?”

“Honest?”

“Mhm”

“He’s your family, whether he annoys you or not…you’d still want him in your life” Y/N leaned her head against the window fiddling with the ends of her sleeves. “And hell. I’m done letting others walk all over people. Just cuz they haven’t been in their shoes before”

Daryl felt himself grip the steering wheel wanting to ask a question but given the lighthearted feel going on between the two, he didn’t want to taint it full of uncomfortable tension.

“Who did yea lose”

“My baby brother” Y/N frowns reaching into her backpack taking out a journal that held a Polaroid of the two on a camping trip with their parents. “I…I don’t think he’s dead but, haven’t found him since outbreak day and Glenn took me back to that camp even when every fiber of my being didn’t want to stop looking”

“Do yea entirely trust these people?”

“I trust you. But that’s cuz you’re not keeping bullshit. Yea state yer mind if you have to. Hopefully the new world doesn’t beat that out of yea”

The CDC was a weird experience. A time to feel like they were in the old world once more. Just under a different roof and drowning out reality with alcohol.

Daryl was the last to shower even if it took him some time to get there given the man had drank a bit too much. But as he entered the room he was sharing with the other single in their group, which obviously was Y/N. She lifted her head to the sound of stumbling and saw the exhaustion rise in his expression as he stumbles onto the couch she sat on. She tossed her book on her bag giving Daryl an opportunity to use her lap as a pillow turning toward her and laying there in silence for a moment. Closing his eyes and doing the best he could to fall asleep even when a part of him fought to stay awake to spend this time with Y/N. Y/N on the other hand, pulled the blanket from her shoulders and covered the man laying on her…resting a hand on his side feeling him shift to get comfortable mumbling a bit to himself.

“Don’t ever wanna lose yea…”

Those words struck a bit to Y/N and even if he didn’t remember saying that last night, she knew by the way he covered her when Rick tossed the grenade to escape the CDC…

That he meant it.

Their bond was growing to others in a beautiful way but to the pair it was weird…confusing…and a bit beautiful in its own way. But it brought certain anxiety that the other never wanted to feel in a world like this.

The farm became a temporary safe haven, and the word temporary was definitely engraved in few’s minds because of how Hershel felt toward them. At first it was to save Carl’s life and thankfully he did…next was to fix what Andrea did.

“Oh my god. Is he alive—-“

“Step the fuck back” Y/N snaps at the poor girl who kept her distance from the situation. And Y/N. The bitch scared her.

“At least we have some idea of where Sophia can be. Now we can retrace Daryl’s steps”

“Nah, I’m comin’ with yea”

“You won’t be doing much activity at least for a few days.” Hershel reminds him of his injuries only for the archer to grow annoyed but his frustration grew slightly when he noticed Y/N glaring at him.

Once he was left alone after Carol gave him his dinner and a thanks for never giving up on her daughter, Y/N came in about an hour later with clothes for him and before she even made it to the door…Daryl grabbed her wrist.

“What’s up yours? Yea been quiet since I came back or well until after yea scared the shit out of Andrea. Yeah fucking Rick told me what happened the—-“ Daryl stopped speaking when he saw the tears in her eyes making him let go and her freeze like a deer in headlights.

“You shouldn’t have gone out by yourself”

“Y/N, I did what I had to. Others given up”

“Don’t. Go. By. Yourself.” Y/N hissed wiping away the tears that started to burn. “Yea ain’t alone anymore. Ain’t needing to do this shit by yourself and get yourself killed. Yea may think nobody would care if you were gone but somebody does. So watch it.” She frowns leaving on that note.

Daryl didn’t know that she felt that way toward him and there were plenty of other moments like that. For either of them.

The reunion on the freeway after the farm went up in flames. Daryl got Carol out of there on his bike, feeling his anxiety get the best of him when he didn’t find Y/N until she came running through the woods and he didn’t hesitate for a second to run at her. Bringing the tired girl into his embrace thankful she didn’t die in the flames or in the mouths of the undead.

The time the group raided Woodbury to save their own and Daryl was shoved out of the way of a bullet that embedded into Y/N’s shoulder. Thank god Hershel got it out. When he came back after leaving the first time with his brother, he couldn’t get that mental image of the disappointment written all over her face. But that was all forgiven, given she would’ve left too if it was her problematic brother.

Once the fight of Woodbury was done and people were flooding into the prison, making itself its own community…Daryl felt a sense of jealousy when watching others outside of their original group talk to Y/N who seem to be expanding their social circle. He was brewing and it was obvious to Carol.

“You’re gonna blow a fuse”

“What?” Daryl brought his attention back to reality and noticed Carol joining him beside him. “Shit.”

“What? Got spotted? We all know how much you like’er. Why didn’t yea do anything sooner?”

“It’s the end of the world.”

“Okay. Stating the obvious. So?” Carol elbows him to be told more as Daryl kept his eyes on Y/N watching her turn to him shooting him a smile.

“If I act on my feelings, and worry about another…on that level, I’ll lose her”

Carol knew Daryl felt a bit at fault for Sophia dying, including his own brother. But Y/N is a strong person. Hell she’s the one that saved them back at the outbreak in the quarry, she knows that girl can hold her ground…and she knows, how much he means to her.

“You won’t lose her…Don’t push her away”

Those words rang through his head as he found himself smoking outside the prison walls and Y/N joining him after her shift in the watchtower. The silence grew between the two even if they spent most of their time together in comfortable silence. But this was different and Y/N knew this.

“Did I do somethin’?”

“Nah” Daryl tosses the cigarette on the floor putting it out with his foot. “This ain’t worth it”

“What’s not?” She furrowed her brows confused at first as Daryl got up from his spot. “Daryl—“

“This!” He gestures to the two of them with a growing frown on his face. “It ain’t fucking worth worrying about. I can’t live like this for the rest of my life. Stressin’ over what might happen” and it clicked to Y/N as her eyes met his only for him to turn away. “Don’t. I can’t.”

“Daryl but—-“

“No. We can’t”

Another word was said because Daryl went back inside leaving Y/N outside to think about what the hell just happened. But more importantly…just…break.

The two haven’t really talked since then. Or hung around the other. The only time they would interact is when Rick asked them to go on a run, or for the council meetings for their small community. Daryl expanded and got close with other people while Y/N found herself back in the same mindset at the quarry before she extended herself to Daryl.

In the end you’re on your own.

But that never lasted because of the connection she had with him and with the others. The sickness, her angry feelings were pushed aside so that she could work with him on getting the medicine. Then when it got to their people, Y/N distanced herself from Daryl once more. This time his regret settled in in its entirety and wasn’t expressed until after the attack.

“Aren’t you and Y/N supposed to be close?”

“Why’re you bringing that up…”

“Getting to know you I guess” Beth frowns sitting across from the archer fiddling with some thread around his wrist.

“She was my best friend, that I love…and pushed away”

Beth watched as the pain when saying such brought its expression in his frown and the tears that he tried desperately not to fall.

…

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get him back” Y/N frowns sitting with Michonne in front of the fire she made for them.

“Daryl’s strong. He’ll come back to you. Even if…you two aren’t anything but friends. You two just. Gravitate toward each other naturally”

Y/N shot Michonne a smile when she said such, but during her watch while the swordsman slept, she couldn’t help the tears that fell off her face.

Michonne was right about the two gravitating toward each other. They always found the other in whatever situation they were in. Even if the most recent was the incident with the claimers, then the other with the general hospital, and finally reaching Alexandria.

And Y/N needed a minute.

“Y/N. Deanna only agreed to yea going out if it’s—-“

“I’m just sticking close. Won’t even need a goddamn car. I just. I need a minute. And I can’t get that in another confined area” Y/N frowns already geared up to head out of Alexandria. “I’ll be back before it’s too late in the day, and if I’m not. Then you can come and get me…”

Rick gave the girl a worried look, but agreed to let her go. He didn’t trust it there either and was surprised by how others are settling in.

When the sherif headed back to his group’s houses, he found Daryl standing outside of the one Carol took up with Y/N. He looked anxious from what he got first spotting the archer.

“Hey”

Daryl quickly turned toward his brother seeing the confused look. “What”

“What are you waitin’ for?”

“Courage. Fuck if I know”

“Courage for what?” Rick brought himself closer as Daryl stepped away from the door to sit on the steps.

“To talk to Y/N again. Repair what I fucking tore apart back at the prison…Before Beth and I got separated, she told me not to let a good thing go. And Carol snapped at me one of the first nights here about the same thing”

“Well. I hate to break it to yea. But she ain’t home” Rick watches the archer shot up from his spot with a you serious? look on his face. “Yeah. She needed some air. Stepped out of Alexandria”

“And yea think she’s gonna come back? After all the shit I fuckin’ said”

“You said back at the prison. Some part of her wouldn’t leave from something that happened some time ago. And there will always be a part of her, connected to yea at all times.” Rick put his hands on his hips. “She doesn’t like it here just like you. So she needed a breather.”

“If she doesn’t come back before night fall—-“

“We’ll go get’er. Alright?” He reassures the man before going back on his patrol.

She made it before nightfall.

Emphasize on the “made it” part.

“Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to help in the infirmary” Spencer, one of Deanna’s sons, got up in Y/N’s face when she first stepped back in. More so caring about the fact that she wasn’t at her job compared to the amount of blood on her. “What the fuck did you do?”

Few residence, more so her group coming close to listen to someone they didn’t know go off on one of their own.

“Why did you ignore Dean—-“

“Your mother’s.”

“Fine. My mother’s orders. You had a job to do and instead you went out doing who knows what outside the walls. Don’t you like it here? Don’t you like being safe here for once? Clearly yea—-“

“Step away from her now.” Michonne cuts in once she noticed the fists Y/N formed and the shaking her body was undergoing. “Some of us are still adjusting. You need to understand that and if you don’t, talk to your mother or I’ll let her hurt you” she states watching him stand his ground one last time.

“Turn in the weapons you took out, then I’ll—“ Spencer stops to the sound of Y/N’s bag dropping to the ground and watching her unclip the magazine of her gun and unloaded the one in the chamber before handing it to Michonne and walking past.

Y/N avoided everyone’s looks and focused on getting back to Carol’s. Even if every fiber of her being wanted to collapse in the middle of Alexandria and let the darkness settle in. But none of them knew what was happening. She just continued on her way.

“Where the hell have you been?” Carol asks when she heard the door open ignoring the rest of what Daryl was saying. Granted it was about the girl that entered.

“Needed air. Got too much of it” Y/N chokes up a bit gripping onto the stairs’ railing with one hand as the other went straight for her side taking her hand off to see the blood soaking through. “I’m gonna shower. Too much Walker blood…but uh. Is the first aid kit in the bathroom?”

Carol pulled herself away from the kitchen counter heading toward Y/N who had her back turned to her on the steps. While Daryl slide off the bar stool bringing himself within earshot.

“What happened?”

“I just cut my hand…”

“You’re covered in blood. Is it—-“

“It’s not mine. Just walkers I got stuck dealing with”

“Are you bit?”

“I wouldn’t have come back if I was” She felt a lot of the pain return to her body in that moment as she continued on the way to the bathroom leaving both confused.

You’ve always been a disappointment Y/N.

Hell. Look at me. Finally proving to this world that I’m worth something

Y/N couldn’t stand and found herself sitting in the shower letting the water wash off the dried blood but also the running. She held onto the edge of the tub feeling everything as she tried her best not to stream in pain.

Her body flinched to the sound of knocking and that resulted in the pain induced tears to finally shed.

“What.”

“Got you clothes” Daryl states from the other side of the door with clothes in hand but he couldn’t help his eyes from wandering around the room to see the blood soaked clothes and the hand print on the door. “Y/N. What happened?”

“Please…go away, Daryl”

“Nah…not this time” Daryl pressed his forehead against the door. “I ain’t leaving and I know you’re hurt…”

“I-I…” Y/N sobbed gripping harder onto the ceramic trying not to focus on the pain in her side.

“Can I see it…” He felt his heart clench hearing her wince from the other side of the door followed by choked off sobs.

“since when did you start to care about me again?”

Daryl sighs tossing the clothes on the dresser by the door and resting his hands on it. “I’ve lost too much. I ain’t gonna lose yea now” he frowns not hearing any sound come out from the other side. “Y/N?”

Something’s wrong…

There’s always been something wrong and he knew there was more to it. She just wanted to take care of it without anyone realizing. But of course she couldn’t get past the person who holds her heart.

The door was suddenly kicked open and Y/N had no strength to react except for bringing her eyes to follow his movements. Daryl gently took a hold of her face seeing the damage there along with what was happening to the rest of her body. He quickly turns off the water and as his lips moved, she didn’t register a single thing. All she did was close her eyes.

“You…were always their favorite” The youngest L/N shook in his sister’s embrace feeling the end draw near as Y/N couldn’t help the tears that spilled. “I never…got to show’em up…”

“I should have never stopped looking…I shouldn’t have left home…left you”

“Mm…” He coughs a bit as the blood splattered on Y/N’s face. “It don’t matter anymore…T-This is what I d-deserve…”

“No…no you didn’t. I should’ve found you…you would’ve loved the people I’m with…this is my fault” Y/N sobbed holding her brother tighter as he gave her one last smile.

“Yea survived…just keep doing so”

As the breath faded from his lungs and more of his group surrounded the house they were held up in. Y/N had to pull it together long enough to take care of the rest, even on her last legs. Because she would’ve found a way to bring her brother in, but as for the others?

No one is following her back to her family.

A soft groan escapes her lips, alerting the archer sitting beside her bed. He brought his chair closer carefully taking her hand into his thinking she would reject it, but instead she gave it a firm squeeze indicating some of her strength is back and that she didn’t want him to go.

“Yea lost a lot of blood…and I got mad at the surgeon here”

“Mm. Typical Daryl behavior” Y/N sighs gently grazing her thumb against his knuckles. “Last I remember…was being in the shower”

“You were in the bath as the shower ran. I don’t know how Imma explain the blood bath, literally, to Carol. But she did help me get yea here” Daryl frowns seeing the exhaustion in her expression but more focused on the black eye and bruised cheek on her left side when she turned to him. “Carried yea out in a blanket. Got bitchy when he lingered too close”

“Please tell me I got dressed after…that someone helped me. And the strange man that stared at me when we first met didn’t see my goods long”

“Imma kill him next time he does, but nah. Maggie came in with clothes”

“Everybody knows?”

“Doesn’t know why. But yeah…I…I did come running out, Y/N. Yelling for somebody. Felt…lost.” He frowns, straightening up when Y/N started to sit up. The grimace growing on her face made Daryl feel as if an ice pick went straight for his heart.

Y/N watches as Daryl got up from his seat he went to grab another blanket when he felt her grip tighten and a wince escape her lips from him pulling.

“Sorry—-I’m sorry. Fuck. I just—-“

“I can do without another…please just sit with me” She begged and she had the same look on her face like she did at the time of their fight in the prison. Something he’ll never forget. “I don’t…I can’t stand another second without you. Even if it’s just a few feet away…”

Instead of sitting in the chair, Daryl brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed holding her hand seeing the bruises on her knuckles. He kept finding more of what happened…and it upset him not knowing.

“Daryl…”

“Yeah?”

“Just ask”

Daryl didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know the pain she endured and how it happened. But he wanted to know who he had to fuck up.

“I got ambushed…by raiders in masks. I took out like…four of them…got the shiner and knocked down by the fifth…only to shoot him right in the ribs and as he dropped..” She squeezed her eyes shut biting the inside of her cheek trying to stop the tears. “I found out…it was my brother…” the tears fell stating such as Daryl soften squeezing her hand with the one she held while the other carefully wiped them away. “Then when he died…I couldn’t risk the others following…and took them out…even if it almost killed me”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s…well, it’s not fine. But that’s keeping me going. Just saying it is…that he’s not in this hell of a world anymore…”

“never looked at it like that…when Merle died. Took the blame and ran with it”

“You carry too much of the blame for things…when a good chunk of it was never your fault” Y/N frowns tugging him forward enough for her to lean comfortably forward pressing her forehead against his. “This is one of’em. You blame yourself. I break your knee caps. This wasn’t your fault…”

“I should’ve never hurt yea back at the prison…I missed you. I miss you and you’re right here”

“Daryl…” Y/N brought her soft, tiny hands to hold the archer’s face feeling him relax in her touch. “I love you…so please, don’t push me away”

The tears that fell between the two was found in comfortable silence. Only a comfort the two share with each other. Daryl moved her hands so that he could gently bring her into his embrace holding her.

“I won’t…I promise”

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