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mrdixon · 2 months

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Be my Valentine?

pairing: daryl x f!reader

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ content, carol being daryls wingwoman, daryls crazy shy and a loser (lovingly), second person but also you see a lot of daryls thoughts, shacking up, fingering, p-in-v unprotected, little bit of overstimulation, honestly this is just bad i apologize.

summary: daryl asks you out for valentines’s day.

A/N: smut fic and chapter 4 of a rugged muse will be up soon!!!!!! im dead ass extremely soryr this took me a week so ignore the fact that this fic is ass i am stressed out of my mind. i have so many fic ideas GENUINELY but i think i just make a lot of wips and then forget… and please please dont think im abandoning a rugged muse, school has just been really stressful on top of other stuff and im trying my best to shit out stuff for yall to read.

masterlist

“So are you asking her out for Valentines?” Daryl’s head turned to the grey haired woman who was baking up whatever she could make out of flour… and water. Carol raised a brow at him to which he scoffed, shaking his head and returning his attention to cleaning his arrows.

“Dun’ know wha’ yer talkin’ abou’,” he grumbled, kicking his feet up onto the counter. Carol sighed, swatting his feet off.

“Come on, I see the way you look at (Y/N).” Daryl glared at Carol and sat up straight, huffing.

“’s not like tha’,” he watched her stir the flour mixture with a look of curiosity and disgust. The woman rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself, finally adding some sort of seasoning to whatever she was making.

“She likes you too,” Carol hummed while grabbing a dish to pour the concoction in. Daryl sighed, leaning back in his chair as he thought it over. There was no way. No way that you would see him like that, he was just a sleazy red neck. You were completely out of his league, you two were too different.

“Nah,” he shook his head and stood up, taking his arrows before making his way to his basement bedroom.

“Just think about it!” He shook his head as he heard Carol call after him, walking down the stairs and into his bedroom. Daryl threw his arrows onto the couch, taking his vest off while entering the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and frowned. No way.

You were too sweet, so full of life. So pretty, so soft spoken. Compared to him you were an angel. You liking a guy like him was close to impossible. Nevertheless, Daryl looked into the mirror, trying to crack a smile.

“Hey…” Daryl’s cheeks flushed, this was stupid. His hands landed on the edge of the sink counter, dipping his head down as he tried to compose himself. He looked back up, trying a soft smile this time. “Do ya wanna be my Valentine?” He groaned and stepped away from the mirror, “bullshit.”

Daryl frustratingly stepped out of his clothes and into the shower, turning the tap on cold. He closed his eyes as he let his thoughts run around in his head. Asking you out would be nice… but so embarrassing.

His shower ended quicker than anticipated, his towel hanging over his shoulders as he left the bathroom. He picked out a black button up and some clean pants, so basically his usual attire. He ruffled his hair in the towel before tossing it into the hamper, and made his way back upstairs.

His hair was still damp and hung around his eyes as he walked into the kitchen where the fresh smell of bread filled his nostrils.

“Ya made bread?” Daryl furrowed his brows as he grabbed a glass of water, hearing Carol snicker.

“I did, someone’s here for you.” Daryl placed his glass down, turning to her. His eyes quickly met yours and he immediately brushed his hair back, cursing silently to himself.

You looked perfect just sitting there at the counter, your eyes wide as you took in his appearance. It made him feel slightly insecure to be quite honest, but he also noticed how there was some sort of admiration in your gaze. You both kind of stared at each other, just taking each other in. Carol watched this whole thing, clearing her throat.

“Okay… I’m gonna let you guys do your thing, bread’s still hot so don’t eat it.” Carol winked at Daryl before exiting the kitchen. Daryl practically rolled his eyes at the wink but quickly recovered. He looked back over at you, noticing how you rubbed your hands together. He knew that was some sort of grounding technique you used when you were anxious, so why were you feeling anxious right now? He rubbed his chin, and grabbed his glass while walking over to you. You straightened up, offering him a soft smile. His adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and sat down next to you.

He discreetly looked you up and down, but you noticed, and it made you even more anxious. Daryl took a sip of his water, unsure if he should speak first.

“So—”

“I wan—”

You both spoke at the same time, reverting back to awkward silence. Daryl huffed, drinking more water and felt slightly more self conscious about how loud he swallowed. You on the other hand, stared off to the side, wishing you also had some water to wet the dryness in your throat.

“You first,” Daryl rasped. You slowly turned back to him, your thoughts vanishing from all you wanted to say to him.

“Um,” you cleared your hoarse throat. “You first, I kind of… forgot what I was gonna say.” You lied, you literally were going to ask him out for Valentines. As cheesy as it is, you both being grown adults, but still… it’d be nice.

Daryl froze, is this the time? He watched you carefully, giving himself the benefit of the doubt. He gulped down the rest of his water, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth.

“Wanna be my Valentine?” He cringed mentally as the words slipped out his mouth, regretting it entirely. “Or don’ I was jus’ jokin’… or somethin’ I don’ know.” He looked away, the tips of his ears red. You almost chuckled at his embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Daryl’s head snapped back towards you, his eyes wide. You sat there and smiled at him while his mouth was agape. You could almost see his thought process, but his eyes were dead set on you. You tilted your head, waiting for him to respond with a cheeky little grin playing on your lips.

“Jokin’?” He asked to which you shook your head, still with that same cheeky grin. Daryl said nothing, finally breaking eye contact and rubbing his chin. “Serious?” He asked to confirm once again.

“I’m serious,” you laughed, his heart swelling at the sound of your sweet laughter. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing,” his jaw dropped at your last statement. Maybe he was as oblivious as Carol said he was. You laughed at his expression, reaching out to nudge his knee.

“Well shit,” he laughed unbelievably. “Okay then, I’ll pick ya up tomorrow?” He felt hazy just looking at you. He couldn’t imagine someone like you looking at him like that, shot by cupid’s arrow.

“Yeah, sounds nice.” You smiled again. He felt the butterflies in his stomach seeing the skin around your eyes crease when you smiled, and he almost reached out to caress your cheek. You stood up before he could and his head raised as you went. “So, I’ll see you?” Your head turned over your shoulder to look at him as you walked towards the door.

Daryl swallowed, standing up to move over to you. “Yeah,” he breathed and looked down at you. His heart thumped in his chest as he stared at your lips, watching them curve into your signature smile. He so desperately wanted to know what they felt like on his, if you wanted that is. You chuckled, lifting a finger to his lip and tapping it softly. He wanted to throw up at your touch, in a good way of course, stumbling back unexpectedly.

“See you then, Valentine.” You winked and left the house. Daryl stood there dumbfounded, his stomach all twisted in knots.

“Told you.”

Daryl frowned as he turned to see Carol leaning on the wall behind him. He rolled his eyes and walked by her, nudging his shoulder into hers.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he walked back downstairs into his bedroom. He needed another cold shower.

“Ya have ta shoot me or somethin’, I can’ do this.” Daryl grumbled into his hands while Carol paced the empty space around his bed.

“You seriously have no idea where to bring her?” Carol mumbled, staring down at the archer as he groaned and rolled around the bed. It was honestly a delight seeing her friend so distraught over this, the most she’d seen him utterly swooned.

“No, wha’ the hell I don’ look fer these things..” he groaned while Carol walked up to the side of his bed and smacked his head. He swatted her away, pulling the blankets over himself.

“What about that cabin by the lake a few miles out the gates? You could probably take her on your bike and… shack up.” Carol chuckled, grabbing the blanket and throwing it off him. He glared at her, sitting up.

“We are not shacking up.” He grumbled, “’sides, I don’ think she’ll like it.” Carol snorted, nodding reluctantly.

“I’m sure she would, especially if you stayed the night at the cabin.” Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes as he got up and thought it over. Carol watched him pace the room, rolling her eyes as she walked up to his dresser. Daryl turned his head to watch the woman rummage through his clothes, biting back a snarl as she tossed clothes out haphazardly. “Jesus christ you have a lot of… the same clothes.”

“Doesn’ make a difference wha’ ‘m wearin’,” Daryl shrugged as he walked up to her, and the two of them stared down as his identical articles of clothing. Carol huffed, side eyeing him.

“It does actually, you have to look all neat and clean for her. Shows you care about her,” Carol picked out a pair of dark wash jeans and another black button up, but at least one that had minimal rips and wrinkles. “Here, this should be good enough.” Daryl looked down at the outfit she set out, grabbing the clothing.

“Ya gonna clean this mess up or wha’?” He gestured to the heaps of clothing on his bed. Carol rolled her eyes as she pushed him into the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah. Go change, your girl is waiting.” Daryl swallowed thickly at that comment, he felt his stomach swirl with all kinds of emotions. Excitement, fear, and nausea swarmed his stomach and he had to lean over the sink to ground himself. He had never felt this anxious before in his life. Sure he’d been on dates before, but this was different somehow. It was you he was taking out. You that he had a little school boy crush on.

Daryl ran his fingers through his hair nervously, quickly changing into the clothes Carol picked out for him. The shirt was quick tight on him and he had to pop a few buttons so he could breathe, was this the appeal he was going for? He groaned in embarrassment as he looked at himself, why was he so nervous? He wasn’t usually like this, at least not until he realized his feelings for you. He tried to convince himself you liked him back, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have agreed to go on a date with him.

A date. Daryl blushed as he came to the realization that this was in fact a date, and he was taking you out to a lake. Alone. At a cabin. He felt like he was gonna hurl.

He turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face, gasping for air as he just. Kept splashing his face. After he calmed his heart rate he reached for his cologne he kept by the sink. In fact it was the one, and only one, that you complimented him on every time he wore it. He sprayed himself generously, making sure he didn’t completely reek of cigarettes. Speaking of, he needed one desperately.

Daryl left the bathroom, brushing off his shoulders and making eye contact with Carol. The woman gave a warm smile, walking up to him and fixing his collar.

“Well there you go,” Carol grinned, turning around to grab something off his workbench. Daryl furrowed his brows curiously, his eyes narrowing as she turned back with a small bouquet of flowers. “Here, my Valentines gift to you.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, taking the bouquet from her as she snickered and punched his arm gently.

“It’s for (Y/N),” she explained. “Picked out all her favourite flowers, just don’t mention that I picked them.” The grey haired woman winked and punched his arm gently. Daryl shook his head, clutching the flowers in his hand before leaving his room and ignoring Carol’s calls of encouragement.

Daryl left his house and literally walked across the street over to yours, knocking on your door three times as he waited patiently. The longer you took to answer the door, the more he felt insecure. What if this was all a joke and you didn’t actually like him?

His insecurities were all cut short as soon as he heard your frantic footsteps as you ran up to the door and opened it. He was taken aback by your appearance. You were wearing a cute little white dress and you had your hair up, if anything, you looked more like an angel. You smiled breathlessly, leaning against the doorframe with one hand while the other fixed your heels.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to…” You trailed off, not wanting to admit you were trying to pick a good bra. If he saw it tonight or not, at least your boobs looked good. “…find my shoes.” Daryl waved your apology off, holding the flowers to you.

“I got ya these, hope ya like ‘em.” Daryl murmured shyly. He watched as your eyes lit up at the bouquet, seeing you inspect each flower. Your gentle fingers skimmed over the soft petals, and his heart fluttered when he saw your soft smile.

“Oh, I love them.” You sighed delightedly, taking the flowers from him before moving back into your house. “Give me a moment, I’ll just put these away.” Daryl gave you a curt nod and let you do your thing as he stood outside awkwardly. He felt his face grow hot as he thought about how happy you looked after his small gesture, only hoping your happiness would be prolonged when he took you out.

You quickly walked back out, adjusting your dress before grabbing his hand. You chuckled when you felt him tense up, and squeezed his hand comfortingly. Daryl looked down at you and sighed, letting himself relax and squeeze your hand back.

“I was thinkin’ we’ll take my bike an’ I’ll take ya some place, ‘s pretty nice.” Daryl murmured as he walked you over to the front gates. He felt a little scared and wondered if you could feel his heart beating through his fingertips. He wondered if you could feel his hand sweating, he hoped it wasn’t.

“I’m excited,” you responded, feeling him squeeze your hand in shared excitement. He didn't admit it, but you could tell he was just as excited, maybe even more. He held your hand firmly as you made it to his bike, this wasn't your first time riding with him, but this was different.

He let go of your hand to help you onto his bike, and a warmth spread through you when he laid his hand against your lower back. He offered his free hand to you which you graciously accepted, allowing him to help you onto the bike. Once you were settled he rubbed your shoulder gently before getting on in front of you.

Your arms immediately embraced him, wrapping around his waist as you pressed up behind him. Daryl choked, letting out a breath as he started up the engine.

“Hold on tigh’ fer me, ‘kay?” Daryl drawled softly, you nodded against his back and gave him a little squeeze. He tried to suppress the shiver that ran through his body but ultimately failed, closing his eyes in embarrassment before eventually driving out the gates of Alexandria.

The ride to the lake was lengthy one, but Daryl made sure to take the scenic route so you wouldn't get that bored on the way there. You’d never get bored with him though. You two could literally be in bed sleeping and it’d still be fun for you, just the idea of being with him made things exciting.

The sun shone through the trees and your hair blew in the wind, giggling when Daryl revved the engine playfully. He watched you carefully in the side mirrors, stifling his own laughter. Your arms remained around his waist but you leaned back, closing your eyes. Daryl’s heart stopped when he felt you lean back, your arms loosening around his waist.

You felt a hand tug on your wrist, and you were ultimately pulled back against him.

“Don’ do tha’,” he furrowed his brows and made eye contact with you through the side mirrors. “You’ll fall.” You just chuckled and squeezed around his waist just a little tighter, hoping it gave him some reassurance.

Little did you know though, it made him feel nervous. The close proximity of you two was making his heart beat faster and his face grow warm. He swerved a tiny bit on the road, swallowing thickly as he pushed all thoughts out of his head and focused on not killing the both of you right now.

Thankfully, you both arrived at the lake shortly after. Daryl drove over to the cabin, parking the bike there as you hopped off and ran towards the lake. His heart dropped as you suddenly ran, his legs following after you.

“Hol’ on, I dunno if there's walkers or not!” He called after you, watching you pause and look down at the ground. His gaze followed, finding a picnic blanket and some food. His face flushed, this was Carol’s doing for sure.

“Oh wow…” you giggled while biting your finger, “ain’t you the romantic?”

Daryl groaned internally, throwing a hand over his face as he forced himself to chuckle nonchalantly.

“It uh, it ain’ much…” he gestured for you to sit down, which you did, and he soon joined you on the blanket. Your arms wrapped around your knees as a soft smile remained on your face, looking out at the view ahead of the both of you.

“This is perfect,” you murmured. Daryl’s head turned to you, admiring the glow on your skin. He wanted to say in return that you were perfect, but he held back and looked out at the view. The sun bounced off the lake and into his eyes, making him squint and turn away. You noticed and reached over to brush through his hair, “too bright?”

Daryl sheepishly tucked his hair behind his ears and nodded, turning towards the food to switch the topic. You chuckled and reached for the sandwiches, taking a bite and humming.

“’s good?” Daryl raised a brow while also taking a bite, “I ain’ even gon’ lie. Carol made the food.”

You laughed mid chew, covering your mouth as you savoured the tastes that mingled on your tongue. You placed a hand on his shoulder as a sweet gesture that meant you didn't mind, you were just glad he took you out.

He looked at your hand on his shoulder, now noticing how close you two sat together. He ate his sandwich slowly, just keeping his eyes on you while you looked out at the lake. He just wanted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn't. It’d be too soon.

You finished your sandwich and stretched, enjoying the warm breeze. You then abruptly stood up and walked towards the lake. Daryl shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and followed you quickly, not wanting you to hurt yourself accidentally.

“It's hot, let's go for a swim.” You smiled at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion until you immediately started pulling your dress off. His face flushed a bright red as he looked away, hearing you take off your boots.

“(Y/N), maybe we should jus’…” he looked over at you and swallowed. You were just in your undergarments and was now stepping into the water, he sighed and stood by. You giggled as you slipped under the water, jumping back up with a huge grin on your face as you shook your head.

The water was cool, not too cold but just enough to ease the heat on your body. You looked over at him as he stood close by, his eyes avoiding looking anywhere but your face. You chuckled at his flustered expression, sinking into the water so your entire body was submerged.

“Why don't you come in? It’s really nice in here,” you murmured before leaning back and swimming on your back. Daryl thought about it, but shook his head.

“Nah, c’mon yer gonna get sick.” Daryl tried to persuade you into coming out of the water, but in all honesty he just wanted you to get back into your clothes. “’s gonna get dark soon, we should head in.” You frowned playfully, splashing water at him.

“Let me have some fun,” you teased and watched as his eyes closed in a bit of frustration and fluster. He sighed and let you swim around, moving back to clean up the picnic blanket. He decided it could work as a towel since he wasn’t even sure if there were towels in the cabin. He dusted off the blanket and held it while clutching your dress in the other.

You smiled at him and decided it was time to head in. Just seeing him stand by the lake and watch you protectively made your heart flutter, and you dunked your head into the water before standing up. Daryl’s eyes trailed down your body that glistened from the moisture of the water, quickly wrapping the blanket around your body. You shook your head chuckling as you picked up your boots and took your dress from him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and led you over to the cabin. You were enjoying the closeness between the two of you, it was quite a shift from your usual encounters.

Daryl opened the door to the cabin and let you step in first, his arm leaving you as he walked over to the campfire.

“Go ahead an’ dry up a lil, I’ll start a fire.” He murmured to you and you excused yourself to the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door you squealed quietly, clasping your hands over your cheeks as you tried to calm your heart rattling. The thought of spending the night with him, alone? It made your inner teenage girl’s stomach twist into knots.

After realizing how uncomfortable it would be to wear your wet undergarments you decided to just go without them, and quickly stripped yourself of your bra and underwear. After drying your body with the picnic blanket, you slipped back into your dress and let your hair be damp. You checked over yourself in the mirror and made sure to toss your wet undergarments into the hamper before leaving the bathroom.

Daryl’s head turned over to you as soon as you stepped back into the living room, you saw the way he swallowed after taking in your appearance. He was crouched over by the fireplace, a nice warm heat emitting from it. You moved over to him and sat down on the carpet, grabbing a soft blanket off the couch and putting it over your legs. He bit his lip, running his fingers through your wet hair gently.

“Here, let me.” He gently guided you to sit in front of him and began to ruffle your hair to try and dry it. You smiled and closed your eyes while leaning your head back to give him better access. His big calloused fingers ran over your scalp while occasionally shaking your hair in an attempt to rid of the moisture that settled among the strands. After a few minutes of that and finding out it didn’t do much, Daryl’s hand flittered down your neck and along your shoulder. The gesture sent a shiver through your body and he flinched back, resting his forehead against the back of your head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was nice.” You murmured while leaning back against him. His breath hitched when he felt your body on him, his hands moving to your waist.

“Why don’ we get on the couch? I got no clue wha’s been on this floor,” he snorted. You laughed in response and nodded, your heart jumping in your chest as he picked you up. A little giggle left your lips as he settled you down on the couch next to him, and you quickly threw your legs over his lap. He chuckled at your amusement, grabbing the blanket and putting it over the both of you. He seemed to be more comfortable around you and it overwhelmed you with joy.

He rested his head on his hand as he stared admirably at you, and his other hand landed on your knee to stroke it gently over the blanket. You looked back at him just as admirable, the hand holding his head up came down by your head, letting you rest on it. His eyes softened as he looked down at your relaxed state, stroking the side of your head comfortingly.

“This is nice,” you murmured and closed your eyes. His hand kept stroking your head and you could feel him shift his body closer. His hand came down to rest on your cheek and your eyes fluttered open at his touch. He didn’t shy away when your gaze locked on his. He didn’t know what took over him but he leaned in closer, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss ya?” He whispered against your cheek, you could even feel his heartbeat from how close you two sat together. You looked into his eyes, seeing a deep sea in his. You licked your lips as he got closer, nodding gently and closed your eyes as his lips fitted to yours.

You felt all warm inside as you two kissed, your brain turning to mush when his hand moved from your cheek and into your slightly damp hair. He rubbed the back of your head, the kiss remained long and tender. He was the first to pull back, taking in a breath of air before smoothing your hair down. His face was tinted pink, and you imagined his ears were too.

You were slightly dazed from the kiss, your mind hazy. But you did know one thing, and it was that you wanted more.

You reached for him, cupping his cheeks and rubbing the stubble that lay there. He groaned softly and pressed a hand on the couch by your hip, leaning in to kiss you once more. This new found confidence that ran through his veins was exhilarating. His lips moved against yours more desperately, and a hand cradled the back of your head.

His hand left the couch and instead grabbed your hip, rubbing it gently with his thumb as he continued kissing you passionately. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan into his mouth and he took the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth. You could feel the hesitation in his movements and his hand slid over your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer. After feeling you kiss back he started to straighten up and ran his fingers through your hair.

You had to pull back to take a breath, pressing a hand on his thigh as you leaned up to his level. His breath hitched and he reached up to wrap his large hands around your waist. Looking down at him like this made goosebumps rise on your skin, his pupils were blown wide at the sight of you. He looked at you like you were sent down from heaven by god just for him. His hands itched at your waist like he was begging to touch you further, his head tilting to the side as he reached up to trace over your cheek. You let out a soft chuckle and stood up on your knees to move yourself over him, placing a knee on each side of his lap before settling down on him.

Daryl closed his eyes as soon as he felt your body on top of him, leaning back against the couch. His rough hands ghosted over your thighs, unsure if he was able to touch you or not. You shifted yourself over his lap, rubbing against him slightly and eliciting a groan from him. The sound shot a wave of heat in your lower region, pressing his hands on your thighs. Your body jolted when he squeezed your plush thighs in return, kneading your skin gently while one hand moved onto your back and pulled you against him.

“Is this okay?” He murmured low and sultry against your neck, and he smirked a little when he felt your body trembling under his touch. You bit your lip and nodded, moaning when he squeezed your thigh. “I need ta hear ya say it.”

“Yes..” you breathed against his face, arching your back when his hand pressed down on your lower back. “This is… better than okay,” he smirked at your comment, leaning in to kiss you gently. This side of him was different than you’d ever seen him before. So full of confidence and completely taking over your body. His lips parted from yours and wandered over your jaw, kissing the little spot right under your ear.

You moaned airily as he continued to kiss your neck, suckling gently while one of his hands rubbed your back. Your hips stuttered a little as you tried to refrain from grinding against him, and he knew. You could feel the smirk on your skin as he trailed his free hand up your thigh, slipping it under the skirt of your dress and dragging it over the curve of your rear. His hand paused after his calloused fingertips brushed over your soft skin, peering up at you through his eyebrows.

“Are ya not wearin’ anythin’ under ‘ere?” Daryl drawled dangerously, his finger tapping your bum periodically. When you didn't respond he brought his hands down to the hem of your dress, rubbing the fabric slightly. “Can I look?”

“Please,” you mumbled involuntarily and your face grew hot when he chuckled at your eagerness. He continued to rub your thighs, moving his way up and under your dress before lifting it up. His pupils dilated more at the sight of your exposed pussy, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fought to hold back.

“Jesus christ, ya really…” he growled under his breath before lowering your dress. You whined a little since you wanted him to go further, but at the same time feared this was as far as he wanted to go. He brought his hands onto your ass and lifted you up so he could placed you down right on…

“Oh,” you hummed which soon turned into a moan as he basically spread you over his erection. The rough material of his jeans rubbed against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body as you practically rode him through his clothes. He groaned into your ear and grabbed your hips to slow you down, then biting your earlobe.

“Calm down, don’ wan’ this ta go too fast.” Daryl’s rough voice grumbled into your ear. He nudged you off of him so you were standing in front of him, and he leaned back against the couch before whispering, “take yer dress off.”

You grabbed the skirts of your dress shyly, biting your lip as his gaze pierced right through you. He suddenly sat up straight and furrowed his brows in concern, worried that he went too far.

“Or don’.. you don’ have ta if ya don’ wan’..” he shook his head and grabbed your arms to rub them reassuringly, “y’know I’d never make ya do somethin’ you don’ wan’ ta do.”

Your heart swelled at his sweet words, leaning down to plant an innocent kiss upon his lips. His hands loosened around your arms as he felt reassured you weren't uncomfortable. You pulled back to place a few more kisses on his cheeks and then his forehead.

“I want to, it's just… been a while.” You looked down in embarrassment and felt a hand rub your thigh comfortingly. You smiled at the gesture, you didn't expect him to be so sweet during all this. Like you did… but then again you never imagined this would happen in the first place.

The look he gave you as he waited for you made you want to just part your legs and let him have his way with you, but you relented. Instead you slowly stepped back and undid the straps of your dress, eventually dropping it to the floor and revealing the entirety of your bare body.

Daryl rubbed his chin as he gazed over the length of your body, his body slowly moving back against the couch. He shifted himself so his legs were slightly apart, presumably to ease the tension in his pants.

“C’mere,” he beckoned you over and reached for you. Your legs moved on their own and you practically threw yourself into his arms, settling onto his lap. He cradled you like the precious thing you are, supporting your weight with one arm while the other stroked up and down the side of your thigh. “Look at you,” he murmured and brought a hand up to your cheek, brushing the stray hairs that lay there. “So pretty.”

You pussy throbbed at his words, feeling pathetic at how easily aroused you were. He leaned back as you suddenly pushed yourself up and straddled him once again, making sure your warmth was settled right above his erection. Suddenly, you felt super conscious over the fact you were really wet. You wondered if he noticed, and he did. You bit your lip and looked down at where you were sitting, your face growing hot as you noticed the slightly damp spot on his jeans.

“Oh god Daryl,” you muttered and tried to sit up. He immediately grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back down onto him.

“Don’,” he pressed his face into your neck, his eyelashes brushing against your skin when he closed his eyes. His nose pushed against you as he took a deep breath of your scent, the sweetness filling him with the primary thoughts of arousal. His thumbs pushed into your pelvic region while the rest of his fingers squeezed your butt affectionately.

You sighed and threw your head back when the warm wet feeling of his tongue graced your neck, his beard scratching you in all the right ways. You needed to feel more of him and so, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and started unbuttoning the first few buttons before he grabbed your hands.

His breath caught as he held your hands, gently pushing them away from his shirt. You couldn’t see his expression but you assumed he didn’t want it off. You silently resigned from his chest, letting your hands fall onto his biceps. He breathed heavily and kept his head down to avoid your gaze, feeling ashamed of what lay under his shirt.

“’m sorry- I jus’,” he sighed and put his hands on your waist. You understood what he meant, he wasn’t ready to show that part of him just yet. You carefully cupped his jaw and tilted his head up, melting at the sight of him. He looked so worried, frightened you’d think of him any different for what was on his body. “Can we jus’ leave my shirt on?” He whispered so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.

“Of course. Just like you, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You smiled sweetly at him and kissed him gently, hoping it’d ease his anxiety. He relaxed in your hands, closing his eyes and breathing a sigh of relief.

“Wha’ did I do to deserve ya?” He rubbed your sides with his thumbs which only stirred up more feelings of adoration… but most importantly lust. He noticed the slight impatience emitting from the way your body shifted more frequently, and a smirk appeared on his face. “Poor girl,” he teased as he reached for his belt.

You felt like a starved animal as you awaited the sight of his cock, your hands scratching at your thighs to keep yourself from undressing him completely. He didn’t make you wait too long and gave you what you wanted, pushing his pants and boxers just enough to pull his length out. Your eyes widened in both curiosity and nervousness, he was big. Sure you’d had quite a few dicks in you before but his was, different. He chuckled nervously after you didn’t say something, but you quickly replaced his hand with your own.

He choked on his own spit at the feeling of your dainty hand touching him. He’d fantasied about this moment before rather he’d like to admit it or not. He threw his head back against the couch as you slowly started moving your hand up and down his length, his own hands clutching at the cushions.

You felt a sense of pride in you after realizing how much pleasure you were giving him, and you felt yourself more antsy and aroused at the sight of him like this. Daryl let out a loud groan before looking back at you, noticing how wet you had become. His thigh was soaked from the amount of grinding you’d been doing on it.

He brought his right hand to his mouth, sticking his middle and ring finger into his mouth to get them nice and slicked up. You continued to stroke him as he did this, letting him eventually move you closer to him.

He looked into your eyes for silent permission which you graciously gave, and soon his wet fingers made way to your core. Your eyes shut when you felt those cold and calloused fingers on your clit, feeling him circle the extremely sensitive bundle of nerves. You squeezed his cock unintentionally and it made him let out a whimper, his face flushing after he made the sound.

Your hips bucked wildly at the digits circling your clit while your hand wrapped around his length to pump him faster.

The cabin was filled with noises of just the both of you moaning, and if you listened closely you could hear the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sticky wetness. You cried out softly when he curled his fingers, moving dangerously close to that soft spot in you. Your hand jerked him faster, eager to make him finish all over your hand.

Daryl cursed under his breath, his hips bucking up into your hand as he sped up the pace of his fingers moving in and out of you. You moaned loudly, your eyes were squeezed shut from the pressure building up inside of you, threatening to release. Daryl groaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers which he soon pulled out, making you stop your ministrations on his cock. He chuckled at your little whines of protest and grabbed the back of your head in order to pull you down, your lips crashing against his.

Your hands moved onto his chest, clutching his shirt in your fingers as you tried to stabilize yourself from the overwhelming arousal and lust that was flowing through your body. Your breaths were hot and mingling, his tongue moving against yours with authority, and you let yourself be taken. He continued to kiss you while guiding you over his cock, pulling back momentarily to help you lower yourself onto him.

You held onto his shoulders while you sunk down onto his length, the stretch painful. You let out a soft whimper, holding still with only the tip in. Daryl furrowed his brows and started to lift you off, but you shook your head.

“No… just let me�� let me adjust,” you mumbled, blinking away the tears that had made their way into your eyes. Daryl shifted uncomfortably under you, feeling terrible that you were in pain. He listened though and sat as still as he could, kissing the area under your eyes and rubbing your hips calmingly. You were so tight and he worried he didn’t prepare you enough, your eyes still closed and brows furrowed in pain.

“(Y/N) c’mon, ‘m hurtin’ ya.” He frowned purely out of concern for you, he was more worried about your pleasure than his own. You held your ground and kept sinking down little by little, and he couldn’t help but moan a little as your walls constricted and adjusted to the size of him. You kept pushing yourself to take more, wanting this moment to last as long as it could. You finally plopped down onto him with a loud cry of both pain and pleasure, leaning your body fully against his. He groaned deeply, rubbing your back as he kissed your neck to distract you from the pain.

You kept your eyes closed, feeling almost defeated as you let your body relax and adjust to his huge girth in you. You laughed a little at that and it made Daryl a little confused but he didn’t question your little giggle. Instead he just kept kissing what ever skin he could get his lips on, trying to make you feel more pleasure than pain. He dragged his hand up your thigh, up your side, and over to your breast. You gasped softly as he touched you there, biting your lip as he circled your hardened nipple.

Your hips rocked accidentally from the touches on your tit, your walls constricting again at the sudden movement. It was still painful to move but it felt closer to getting better, though Daryl felt guilty he was getting more pleasure than you were. He just wanted you to feel good. He decided to latch onto your other nipple while he toyed with the previous one, determined to make you feel amazing.

It worked slowly. Your mouth was agape and you let out whimpers and whines occasionally, testing the waters and moving your hips slowly. The abrupt movement had Daryl grabbing your hips, his mouth breaking away from your breast. He breathed heavily and looked up at you, a light sheen of sweat was evident on his forehead. The heat between you two plus the fireplace was palpable and he gingerly thrusted up into you, watching closely for your reaction.

Thankfully, no pain was evident in your expression. Bliss took over you, throwing your head back as you slowly started picking up the pace and rocked your hips against him. His fingers dug into your hips to keep himself grounded, but mostly so he wouldn’t cum in three seconds. He grunted low in his throat, watching your body move mesmerizingly above him. The feeling of his cock dragging up and down your walls was extremely pleasurable. You felt so full of him that you could trace the one outstanding vein that ran up his entire length with just the feeling of it in your pussy.

You felt hot despite your lack of clothes, your mind swirling with the thought of him and the fact that the two of you were literally having sex. You moaned softly and let your head fall forward. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, one hand moving into his hair as you brought him close to your lips once more. You were desperate for the taste of him, you didn’t know you had a thing for the taste of tobacco and meat, but you did. At least coming from him you did.

He moaned gratefully into your mouth, pulling you against him before palming your breasts as he bucked his hips up. You swirled your tongue around his, savouring the taste of him. The moment was perfect, your sweaty body pressed against his clothed one. You pulled back from the kiss to look down at him, his eyes were glazed over with lust and his cheeks were adorably flushed. Your thumb rubbed his cheek as his lips parted, his heavy breaths warm against your face. The feeling of being stuffed with his cock sent your eyes rolling back into your head as he pulled you harder down onto his cock, and you immediately went back in for a kiss.

His hands pawed at you desperately, like he needed more of you. You knew one thing for sure, and it was that he liked your ass a lot. He moved his hands down there to guided you up and down on his length, biting your bottom lip teasingly. You moaned as the friction was starting to get to you. You felt that knot tying inside of you, threatening to snap at any moment. Your fingers curled into Daryl’s hair, tugging it lightly which gave him the hint.

“So close already?” He taunted, but he was feeling it just as much as you were. You whined desperately as you bounced on his cock, eager to release. You had to lean back and brace yourself with your palms on his thighs to ride him properly, your head thrown back as you let the moans and cries escape your mouth freely. His cock twitched inside of you, the sight of you like this was better than he imagined, and it really was him making you feel like this.

Daryl let out a few whimpers, reaching forward to cup your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the flesh, squeezing it a few times before pinching the sensitive buds that hardened with arousal. You had to cry out his name when he did this, your nails digging into his thighs the faster you moved yourself.

He dropped a hand from your breast and down between your thighs, his rough thumb rubbing your already sensitive clit. One of your hands shot forward to wrap around his waist, your body shaking violently at how overstimulated you were feeling at the moment. Your cries were like music to his ears, he wanted to hear more. Your scratches at his wrist held no intentions of stopping him from rubbing you like this, but you could see your vision go blank at how overwhelming the pleasure was getting for you.

“Daryl!” You cried loudly, your grip loosening on his wrist, and your hips stuttering as you finally reached that high. You could see stars and you threw your head back so far that Daryl had to hold you up, thrusting lazily into you before quickly lifting you off so he could cum on your thighs. He let out an exasperated groan while pulling you into his arms, letting you lay on him as you recovered from your intense orgasm.

Daryl had a shy smile on his face as he rubbed your back, kissing your sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

“Mmm,” you hummed sleepily. The session took a lot out of you, but you were beyond thrilled. You wanted to say more and he could sense that, but you were too tired to even lift yourself up. Daryl grabbed the blanket that was tossed to the side and carefully wiped your thighs. Your body ached for rest, your thighs would surely be burning in the morning.

Daryl stood up with you in his arms, letting out a small huff as he cradled you to his body. The fire had long fizzled out, a new one resonating within you two. He kissed your forehead and carried you over to the bedroom where he lay you down. He stripped of his pants but kept his shirt and boxers on before slipping into bed next to you. Your half sleeping body slid over to him, pressing yourself against him fully.

Never in his entire life would Daryl have imagined he’d be shacking up with you on Valentine’s day. He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling against your head as he closed his eyes. A soft smile remained on his face, happy to be in this moment, with you.

#divider by cafekitsune #mrdixonposts #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon smut #twd smut #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader

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merowkittie · 1 year

Text

“Cut tha’ out.” Daryl looked at you and Dog with a raised eyebrow. His hand trying to nudge you away.

You and Dog were cuddled up underneath the man, looking for warmth In the chilly air coming through the windows.

Though, you kept kissing all over his jaw and neck. Even going over the scars on his chest. Dog.. dog was just licking on his face and pawing at you. This was starting to annoy Daryl since he was trying to rest. But that didn’t matter to you or the dog because you missed this man more than he can even comprehend.

“Baby..” You mumbled by the shell of his ear, “I.. Love.. You.. so… Much.. I missed you.. a whole lot…” you whispered in between kisses to his lips.

He reciprocated each with a low groan.

Just as he was leaning up to your lips for more you pulled back with a teasing smirk and placed a finger on his lips.

“Uh uh, old man.. you wanted me to ‘Cut Tha out’ right?” You mocked him with a giggle as you laid back down and closed your eyes with a hum.

Daryl sucked in a breath and pinched your hip. “You little brat.”

Real short blurb/Drabble ? Of you loving on Daryl while I figure out what to write <3 I’m tempted to write a smut …

#twd fluff #twd #daryl imagines #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #comfort #reader insert #black reader

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florvaine · 10 months

Text

lost comfort and found familiarity.

Escaping the prison was a mess, and Carl is devastated when he can only find his girlfriends red jacket, but not her. (afab! reader)

genre: heavy angst to fluff

warnings: death, blood, gore, panic/anxiety attack, !carls’ SA scene!, kissing.

-— DREAD BEGAN TO FILL THE PIT OF CARL’S STOMACH WHEN THE HEAVY REALISATION SET IN. That realisation was that the prison was overrun, the Governor and his goons having broken down the wired fencing with a tank and brought in dozens upon dozens of brain-deteriorated, famished walkers into the previously safe confines of the prison.

They had killed Hershel in cold blood using Michonne's katana, leaving his severed head to pool a red sheen on the grass. Somewhere in the time of his beheading bullets began to ring out around the borders of the prison.

Cars, trucks and military-grade vehicles began to fill the courtyard, Rick and the Governor are beating each other bloody with their bare hands by the overturned bus.

“Holy shit.” He hears you say, and once he looks to his left to find you, his heart hurts a little more.

You’re typically comforting smile has vanished like the peace had just a few hours ago, instead pulled in an open-mouthed look of pure shock and horror. Your eyes are blown wide, brimming with a small collection of tears. There’s dust and debris flying everywhere, staining your cheeks. A shotgun is tight in your grip, ammo stacked in your pockets and an army knife clinging on your belt.

He’s only ever seen you this devastated when the farm got set up in flames, and when you had been told that your brother had been bit.

Carl gulps, pulling you closer to him via the strong grip he has on your hand. Both of your palms are sweaty, but it was barely even registered as the tank that the Governor had hijacked shot another bomb into the crumbling, brick walls of the prison.

“We gotta go!” He says, running in the opposite direction of the explosion. You follow behind him, still holding his hand as an anchor to keep you aware of reality.

Your eyes drift around the series of events around you. The obliteration of your home, the snapping jaws of the decaying walkers that drooled and reached to take a chunk of flesh from either of your bodies. Bullets rain hell on everything that moves, sparks of orange and yellow shining from all directions, the scent of blood, gunpowder and dust is heavy as it clings to your clothes and hair.

You stumble, tugging on Carl's hand, "We have to get your Dad!" You point to where Michonne is helping him up, and the blue-eyed boy falters.

A loud bang followed by the sound of debris hitting the floor, a flash of heat passed over each of your skins. Between the flash, he sees his dad covered in splatters of blood, bruises and cuts stumbling towards a break in the metal fence.

Every sense in his body is muddled, an annoying, high-pitched ring in his ears makes his clammy hands raise upwards to press against them, sounds muffled as dust coats his tongue like thick, chalky medicine. His eyes flutter as the light passes, debris clinging to his lashes and dirtying his freckled face. Carl sniffs, his head turning around rapidly to see you again.

Except you were gone.

Just like the flash of orange light and thermal blast, you had seemingly dissipated into thin air. His first reaction is panic, in a form that roots his body into the concrete floor at the thought of you being hit by the bomb, therefore disintegrating instantly.

Carl feels sick to his stomach and he removes his hands from his ears, picking up his gun that clattered to the ground and spinning in circles to catch even a glimpse of you.

"Y/n?" He shouts even if his throat was aching from the particles in the muggy air.

There's no response, "Y/n!" He calls out with more urgency, his feet moving quick against the ground as another round of bullets pass beside him.

The shaggy, brown-haired teen dashes through a gap between the cell blocks, keeping as low as he could whilst running, pressing the sheriff's hat his father gave him just a few days prior against him skull.

Then everything stops. It's practically silent if you ignore the echoes of the snarling walkers that invaded the space. His eyes brim with salty tears, scrambling to pick up a too familiar red cloth discarded on the floor.

His heart is put on pause for a few seconds as he kneels down to claw at the jacket. Your favourite jacket. Bright red stained with black smudges and bloody hand smears, an open hole passes cleanly through both sides of the left sleeve, encircled in a deeper scarlet that dripped in a sickening curve of an open wound.

Time passes slowly, as if God himself was providing him time to grieve. You had slipped through the cracks of his callousing hands, the blood trapped under his fingernails suddenly more obvious as he scratched at the drying liquid on the jacket. His heart hurts. So does his head, a throbbing pulse that matched the pants and trembling breaths that exited his chapped lips. His body washes out any adrenaline or happy emotion an refills it with dread and mourning.

He feels like crying. Sobbing, screaming your name until his lungs collapsed and his throat was raw. Vocal cords torn, shattered like his heart that would no longer beat with the same life he had with you. His thoughts turned from joyous hope of a future with you and Judith outside the crackling prison to disbelieving hurt at the realisation you were not near him anymore.

With no body, their could be no funeral. Nobody in the limited black attire they collected throughout their time in the apocalypse. With no grave to bury you under, you could not rest.

But without a funeral or a tattered corpse of your being, Carl refused to believe you were dead.

The sound of bullets restart his heart again like a defibrillator, and he's back in the moment. There's shots in the courtyard, the boy scrambles up, clinging onto your jacket with harsh breathing.

There's two walkers further along the cell block. Carl ties the jacket around his waist. Rage slowly drips into the building acceptance in his mind, and the shotgun that he held previously was snagged up off the floor.

The gun is raised, aimed perfectly for the decaying heads of what used to be morally guided people. His breathing picks up slightly.

One shot rings out, bullet shells hitting the ground. Chunks of skin, bone and rotting organs spills over the floor and the walker hits the ground with a dull thud. He steps over the remains with what could only be described as a bitter mixture of anger and sadness on his face.

The second shot is fired, and the first victim is joined by the other. A mess of liquid ruby changes the grey hue of the floor, the sound of blood spilling like tossed water would usually sicken him.

His gaze drifts towards the bodies, and he is repulsed at the image of you, your hair splayed against the concrete and your eyes wide open yet unseeing, glossed over in grey as your plump lips turn blue, skin cold. Your chest does not rise. You are still, graceful and dead.

He blinks, and yet again you were gone. Carl looks up from the meaningless corpses.

His own dad looks back at him.

"Carl," It doesn't sound like him, there's a hint of liquid that gurgled in his throat as he spoke, and Rick gulps it down. He's breathing heavily. A collection of red patches adorn his beaten face, curls from his hair and stubbly beard pressed against the sweat gathered on his skin.

The two of them limp away from the remains of the prison, trauma and sorrow tossing and churning in their minds and stomachs. They had lost not only you, but Judith as well.

One of the only memories of his mother that he had. And the only hope that Rick had of raising one of his children without any fear even in the apocalypse.

That night the two of them exchanged no words.

-—-

1 month, 27 days and 17 hours.

That's how long it had been since Carl had last heard your voice. Him, Rick and now Michonne occupy a two story house in a leafy road surrounded by woods. They visit the neighbouring homes further down, once he even found a 112 ounces worth of chocolate pudding, and ate it in one sitting. Alone.

The words 'alone' has never been in the forefront of his mind this much before. He wonders if you would've enjoyed the pudding with him, or comforted him on his worst nights as his dad slept on the sofa barricading the front door. Maybe you would've stopped him shouting at his unconscious body.

He was terrified, that night. Because the sleeping body of his dad would sometimes look like you - except there's a bite on your shoulder and a bullet wound punctured between your closed eyes.

Now there was no resting body on the sofa as his dad was awake, alive and moving whilst Michonne helps the two of them work with their slightly tense familial relationship.

Sometimes he'd get bombarded with questions about you. He'd still answer with one phrase.

"She's alive."

The same tone, the same memory starting to form before his ocean eyes whenever he blinked. After a while it went from being a quivering statement of hope to an exclamation of law.

Every time you were brought up negativily, it ended in him storming out of the house and sleeping in a different one for the night, and coming back in the morning to his anxious dad who was very close to vomiting and a worried Michonne.

Carl knew you wouldn't just leave or give in that easily. It wasn't in your blood that stained the jacket he kept folded upstairs in one of the rooms.

He had washed it, any trace of what happened at the prison left in a stream of water; the hole from your bullet wound was sewn together as best as he could. No more smudges of soot and crumbling brick smeared down the hood and arms, no more scarlet hand prints that grabbed and tainted your clothing.

Carl had one mission that he would complete - he had to complete it before anything else.

And you were going to get your jacket back - alive.

-—-

Terminus was a horrible idea. It had been advertised as a safe haven for anyone in need of it, offering sickingly sweet luxuries that no other place had before.

Who knew it was run by cannibals that captured, disarmed and intended to eventually eat them? Not Carl, that's for sure.

They had barely escaped with their lives, and Carl could only wonder how many more times he could dodge death until it inevitably caught up with him.

But in the back of his mind, he knew he would avoid it for as long as he possibly could, because if he kicked the bucket then he wouldn’t see you again.

At least they found everyone else - including Judith. That was one miracle that Carl dreamed of, and it was accepted, so the last one was you.

Many nights and days he had spent wondering where you were, if you were thinking about him too, some other days passed with tears and muffled screams of your name; those days he’d be comforted by the tight arms of his dad or Michonne wrapped around him.

Carl would sometimes have nightmares of that grimey, old man that pinned him against the floor, Michonne and Rick having to see him at his most vulnerable in that moment. That was the one time he was grateful you weren’t there. Not because he didn’t want you to see him so shattered and broken, no.

He knew that whatever was going to happen to him, would happen to you too. And with the predator pinning him down, the company of his equally as vile creatures that held Michonne and Rick as captives. Nobody would be able to save you in time.

Part of his innocence was picked up and snapped that night. He fell asleep with your jacket over his torso, and he let his quivering frame curl into yours.

He wanted to see you again, in real life. Not a part of the fractured, twisted part of his imagination. He wished to hold you close against him, kiss you under the stars like you had done too many days ago. Everything Carl found that he thought you’d like was in a small pouch at the bottom on his bag.

A thin-chained necklace, a gossip magazine, a comic book. A small heart shaped rock that he had found. Most importantly, your jacket.

Carl was intelligent, observant. He could tell everyone had already grieved for you, mentioned your name in speeches of motivation saying ‘do it for her’. He hated it.

Another argument happened whilst they were all moving down the abandoned road, towards a new hope of life.

His father brought you up again when he saw Carl wearing your jacket. They had stopped for a break, sitting in the middle of the road whilst Daryl went hunting for anything they could eat.

“Carl,” He spoke, voice slow and gentle as if he was a ticking time bomb, “I think it’s time you let go of her jacket.”

Everyone’s eyes moved from his father to his son, eyes slightly widened and mouths clamped shut. The air becomes tense as the blue-eyed teen looks up at his father through the corner of his eyes.

Carl swipes his tongue over his lips, “Why’s that?” He spoke, Judith coo’s in his arms, pulling at the strings that tightened the hood.

Rick adjusts his stance, placing his hands on his hips and thinking of what to say to his son. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he speaks.

“I just think, well we just think that,” The curly-haired dad gestures to everyone with one hand, “It’s time to let go, son.”

Carl lifts his head fully, eyebrows knitted together in scrutising disbelief, “You all think she’s dead?” His tone is harsh, accusing and targeted to pierce their racing hearts.

Everyone knew that the mention of you being dead was something that the boy didn’t agree with. Stubborn as ever, Carl points his gaze towards his dad. His gaze as sharp as daggers and Rick knows hes in for the long run.

“She disappeared, Carl. We can only guess what happened to her.”

Carl hands Judith to Carol next to him and she takes her without looking at the boy, “You can guess, but I’m not guessing. I know she’s alive.”

“She’s got lost, nobody saw where she went. She’s alone.” Rick argued, his voice louder.

“She has a gun and a knife!” Carl replies, shouting over his father. Michonne stands up and removes her gun from her holster, as did Abraham and Tara when a branch snaps behind the wooded trees.

Daryl shows himself, empty handed. Everyone internally groans, but they give him a look to tell him to be quiet and point at the arguing boys.

Rick places his hands on his sons shoulder, looking down on him, “People have still died with a gun, kid.”

Carl pushes his dad away from him, face contorting into pure anger and vemon lacing his features, “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m just tellin’ you the truth, Carl.” Rick points at him, eyebrows raised and his voice returning to the soft, almost patronising tone from before.

“But it’s not the truth!” Carl argues, his anger put into lashing out against his own blood, “She’s alive, I know it! I see her, Dad!”

Michonne places a hand on Rick’s shoulder when she hears him sigh and prepare himself, “Don’t-”

“She’s dead! Trust me. She. Is. Dead. If you’re seeing her like I see your mother, then she is not alive anymore!”

It goes silent, a few birds fly overhead with calls of their scratchy language. Even in the open surrounded by trees it has never felt more claustrophobic than ever for the Grimes family.

Carl stiffens at the mention of his mother, the woman that birthed and nutured him through his pre-teen years. The woman he eventually ended up killing.

Rick takes his silence as an opportunity, “Let her go, Carl. That’s my only advice.”

Tears form in his lashline as he stares back at him dad, and the sheriff’s hat against his head has never felt more heavy than in this moment.

“But everyone saw Mum’s body.”

Rick has never turned around quicker than in that moment. The mention of his lovers lifeless body, deep cut in her lower stomach flashes under the glaze in his eyes and Rick swears he can see a white dress move through the treeline.

Carl continues, “We saw Mum’s body,” His voice trembles and he sniffs, “I knew she was dead more than anyone else here.”

It’s deathly silent. Everyone knows what he’s referring to, and everyone is scared shitless to say anything to either of them. Rick takes a deep breath, but doesn’t speak.

A droplet rolls down Carl’s pale cheek, and he looks down to ensure no one saw him wipe it away, “We haven’t seen hers. Until we see her body, I’m keeping her jacket. But when we find her, she’s gonna have it back.”

Rick only nods lightly, picking up the supplies he agreed to carry.

Nobody makes any objections to continuing to move further up the road - towards Alexandria.

-—-

You have never felt so close before. Yes, they were extremely suspicious and afraid of Aaron and his husband, Eric. Having been tricked into a cannibal house just a week ago does that to a group of people.

But walking up yet another road, littered with lifeless corpses of walkers with bullets making their brains paint the pavement. Carl knows only one thing.

He has never been this sure that he was going to find you.

Aaron is rattling on about what facilities they had. Running water, heating, electricity. Promises of necessaries they haven’t heard of for years now.

His dad is on edge, not particularly fond of the idea, but he knew that everyone was so tired and burnt out that they needed just the idea of a safe place to be just to bring more motivation to themselves.

So far, Aaron’s words of a 15 foot, metal wall that bordered Alexandria and protected the insiders was true, and Carl begins to feel more energetic and hopeful than before.

Carol notices this, and questions the boy, “What’s up, Carl?” She looks at him, and he looks back.

“She’s here, I know it.” He replies and then looks forward again, walking ahead of her.

Carol furrows her brows and decides to take harder and longer looks at the walkers on the floor.

The group arrive at the large, metal gate. The journey felt like hours for each of them, but extra long for Carl. He was antsy, and fully compliant to anything any of them told them to do. If Aaron or Eric told them to stop, he would. If they told him to go find a bird, kill it and bring it back, he would.

The gates finally screech open, Carl feels as if his heart is going to burst open. An alarm sounds in the back of his head but not one of worry, but one of intuition that told him she was here.

He looked into the gated community as the gate opened fully, and felt alienated as soon as he entered with his group. They were dirty, hair knotty and unclean against the pristine and organised residents of Alexandria.

People poke their heads out of houses and stare, smiling or looking upon them with apathy. Every face Carl doesn’t recognise.

They get told to hand over their weapons. Their refusal is argued, and eventually they give in. It’s hesitated and unsettling seeing all their guns and knifes piled onto a trolley.

Carl is the second to last person to place anything on the trolley, his handgun is held in his hands tightly as he walks over to the collection, placing it down and reaching for his knife-

“Carl?”

It’s a voice further along the pathway into Alexandria, and he looks up in slight confusion.

His blue eyes meet hers, they’re as recognisable as ever. Finally.

His body is practically overflowing with emotion - relief, joy, sadness and the most overpowering feeling of love.

The knife clatters to the floor, there are hands reaching for him, tugging on his clothes to hold him back and the leaders that he didn’t care to remember the names of tell him to stay put.

Instead he runs. It’s a run of desperation. He’s afraid that if he doesn’t run fast enough, you’ll disappear again in the aftermath of an explosion. You’re running too, a hand against your mouth to cover sobs.

The two of you meet halfway, arms wrapping around eachother as a form of physical touch to ensure that the other that this is real.

“You’re alive,” Carl whispers, breathing heavily and clutching the back of your head that was pressed against his chest, “I knew it.”

You’re both crying, holding eachother in a tight, cathartic embrace that released any inkling of doubt that the others heart wasn’t beating.

Carl’s hands clamber to hold you face in his hands again. You let him, raising your head to look into his eyes. He runs his thumbs against your soft skin, scanning your face.

His head lowers, yours lifts, and your lips meet in a greeting that was way past it’s due date. Eyes closed, experiencing something that has only been a dream for so long. You didn’t care that his lips were chapped, he didn’t care that yours were slightly cut up from you biting at the dead skin there.

It’s messy, teeth clashing and your noses bump one or two times, but all that you care about is that he’s here, and that he finally found you.

You pull apart, and your eyes fly open to witness his still closed like he was still in shock. His lashes flutter, and you make eye contact once again.

There’s a sense of melancholy realisation that slowly ebbs through him. The fact he hadn’t been there to witness you grow up alongside him during the time you were apart. He admires the change in your facial structure, features from before stronger and more prominent to show that you had grown up.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remembered,” His thumb wipes away a few of your tears and rolls over a small scar that streches up from your jawline to your cheekbone and his eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “What happened?”

You press yourself further against his palms, relishing in the feeling of him again, “I survived, Carl.”

His name has never sounded so good before. His brain feels funny, his heart floating as he pulls you in for another kiss. It’s less messy this time, not that either of you care.

Carl pulls away again as he’s reminded of his mission, his forehead against yours, “Your jacket,” He gives you peck, and departs again, “I have your jacket.”

His hands leave your face to pull the rucksack of his back, and in panting breaths you gasp softly as he pulls the red fabric out of the bottom of the brown bag, holding it out to you.

“I cleaned it, sewed up the bullet hole,” He holds it up, showing the messy threading, “It’s not the best-”

He’s cut off by you taking it from him with a sniffle, pressing it against your heart and clutching it.

“I love you, Carl.” Your voice trembles, and he smiles, pressing a kiss against your forehead, brushing a few loose strands of your hair from your face.

“I love you too.”

You unzipped the red jacket, struggling to get it on; Carl moves forwards to help you slide it on over your arms again.

Where it rightfully belongs.

-—-

#*{ ‘. florawrites<3 #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #carl grimes #twd #angst #the walking dead x reader #fluff #twd fluff #twd angst

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sinsandsweetness · 5 months

Note

hi my love <3

do you think you could do a rick grimes fluff where it’s an established relationship where he’s got a short fuse for everyone else but her and he’s super soft and gentle to her

or rick with a sleepy reader who he just lets fall asleep on his lap as he strokes her hair when he’s in the middle of discussing something important with someone else

ok I'm currently painting my toenails baby pink and got me thinking about rickyl with hyperfeminine!reader. (I know u said rick but this is what my brain said so...enjoy?)

It’s way too late but you can’t really help that you’re a night owl. And besides, the boys are still up, lights on in the living room, the two of them talking strategy for some hoard the group has been tracking for a few weeks. The conversation seems really important so you don’t want to interrupt but you also can’t see all that well since your glasses broke on that run last week and you’ve yet to find any new ones… so you were really hoping someone would help you out.

With your bottle of nail polish in hand, you stand in the doorway, fighting an internal battle of if you should go in or not. So in doubt, you hover, putting a few dishes away in the kitchen. Grabbing some water. Checking the fridge. All while the glass bottle of pink polish becomes warm in your hand. Bare feet padding against the cool hardwood as you finally decide to just go back to bed. The safety of the community is undoubtably more important than your damn toes.

“You alright, angel?” Ricks voice is soft as it travels to your spot on the stairs, swiveling around to see both men eyeing you down. Gaze travveling up your bare legs to your tiny little boy shorts and the oversized sweater with a stretched out collar and way too many holes in it.

“Mhm.” You quip, flashing a candy sweet smile.

“You’re pacin’. What’s up?” Daryl isn’t convinced as he looks you in the eyes, elbows leaned onto his knees. Still in his work clothes. Jacket, vest and jeans. Even his boots are still laced up.

“I just-" you look down at your bare toes. All prepped for paint, cut and filed and screaming at you to give them some colour. “Can one of you help me paint my toes?”

The way both of their faces soften at your answer gives you butterflies. They’re always way too worried. Too on edge. Especially when it comes to you. Wanting to protect you. Keep you safe and healthy and happy. So that’s why when they notice you pacing in the kitchen at half past midnight, they jump to their own little conclusions about what might be wrong. About what could possibly be going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

“C’mhere.” Rick pats a hand on the couch cushion next to him which you happily take. Practically skipping over and plopping down, ass on the cushion and feet in his lap.

He takes the bottle and gives it a little shake before continuing his conversation with Daryl, who doesn’t seem to be listening as attentively as he was before. With you laying on the couch, long legs sprawled out and a sleepy smile on your pretty face, you’ve become quite the distraction.

Ricks hands are warm as he holds your feet, carefully painting each nail, all while he stays talking. You hear snippets like, “- well if we do that, then they’ll just be headed for Oceanside. We need to find a route that makes sense for everyone, even if it means-” but you aren’t really listening. You’re more focused on making heart eyes with Daryl and playing with a loose string on the hem of your sweater. Eyes growing heavy with each coat of paint. The intoxicating, chemical smell that you've weirdly enough grown to love, fills the room and your feet tickle when rick blows cool air on them. Closing the bottle and popping it back into your hand while he leans back and asks Daryl something off topic about a run with Aaron. thumb running over your foot, hand traveling up your calf and gently massaging the muscle there. You sink even further into the couch, all warm and tired and cozier then ever. The combination of Ricks touch sending tingles up your spine, and the drawl of both their voices, act in accordance to lull you right to sleep.

You know that even if you do fall asleep here on the couch, it's no big deal. They'd carry you to bed in a heartbeat. They have before. So you let your eyes flutter shut under the comforting fact that you’re sure to wake up in clean, warm covers with a man on either side of you and two big arms wrapped around your waist.

#rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixion x reader #rick grimes imagine #rickyl drabble #Rickyl x reader #rickyl x you #rickyl x y/n #rickyl fluff #rickyl #rick x reader x daryl #rick grimes x reader x daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #twd fluff #twd imagines #rickyl daydream

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carlgrimesenthusiast · 9 months

Note

saviour! reader x carl where he’s got a huge crush on her and thinks she’s soooo hot so when the two find themselves alone, and she makes a suggestive comment towards him, he begs her to have sex with him

we’re supposed to hate each other…

warnings: swearing, smut.

a/n: i decided to make this into an actual fic instead of just short couple of paragraphs. plus i haven’t written a fic in a long time! i also wrote in capitalisation and didn’t make the writing smaller, thought i would try it out.

also, i made reader negans daughter so it would fit to the title, but everything else is the same!

You heard someone knocking on the door from the other side of the door. “Come in.” You yelled, rolling your eyes. Someone always had to interrupt whilst you were reading a book.

“Alright, pumpkin. Get up, we’re going to Alexandria.” Your father said, after opening the door. You love going to Alexandria, mostly because of a special someone always being there whilst your father went off taking supplies from everyone. You and Carl were supposed to hate each other, at least that’s what you thought.

Whenever you saw Carl, you get butterflies in your stomach but your ignored them. Even if you were supposedly dating, would it really work out? Your fathers hate each other and even thought hate is a strong word, they really do hate each other. You wouldn’t blame Rick, Carls dad, you knew what kind of person your dad was but that didn’t change the fact that you still love him.

“Fine.” You abruptly sat up, removing the blankets off of you and leaving the marked up book onto the bed side table. “When are we leaving?” You questioned, taking your jacket and putting it on.

“Now, all the trucks are outside all ready.” Your father said, waiting for you to hurry up.

“Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Negan nodded before turning around, opening the door wider and letting you leave first before closing the door and locking it.

You made your way outside, walking past all the workers and taking quick glances at them. You felt bad for them but weren’t they being kept safe? It shouldn’t be that bad, it’s way better then being left outside with all those walkers lurking around. If I were them, I’d prefer to be kept inside, fed and being able to sleep all safely, well mostly safe…

You boarded the car with you dad, not being bothered to buckle your seatbelt because who else would be driving on the road apart from the Saviours? You and Negan made small talk, a large quantity of it being what we would take when we get there and if your dad was going to stir up even more hatred.

You arrived outside the gate of Alexandria, you waited for the Alexandrians to open the gate before all the vehicles made their way inside.

You jumped out the car happily, you loved being here. You honestly wish you were here instead of the Sanctuary. The houses and the trees and the bright sun, everything about it here was beautiful. You were brought out of your thoughts when a certain someone made their way towards you.

“Hey, Y/n, haven’t seen you in ages.” Carl said, hands in his pockets whilst he looked down at you with his eyes squinted from the sun.

“I saw you like last week…” You had an obvious look on his face, did he miss me or something? You smiled at the thought of Carl missing you.

“What you smiling about?” Carl questioned, your smile immediately dropped.

“Nothing.” You folded your arms across your chest, “now, show me something that I might be interested in.” Last week when you came to Alexandria, you met up with Carl again and you told him that next time you’re here, he should show you all the things he found for you that you could be interested in having.

“Alright, I’ll lead the way. It’s in my bedroom, by the way.” Carl nodded before leading the way, you were both stopped by someones voice.

“Darling, where you going?” Your fathers voice boomed out, you turned around to see your dad standing there with the Saviours carrying supplies back to the trucks.

“I’m going with Carl, he’s offering me things he thinks I might like.” You shouted, loud enough for Negan to hear since he was quite far.

“Alright, be back in 10 minutes!” He shouted back, you nodded and held your thumb up to show that you will be back.

“I’ve got some things that you will definitely like to have, hopefully.” Carl whispered the last part to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

Carl opened the door to his house and let you enter, you were shocked. Your face didn’t display it but your mind was thinking otherwise. The furniture, the carpet, the lights, the living room. Everything about it is so homely, exactly like it was before the world went to shit.

“Everything’s in my room, come on.” Carl shut the door behind him and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom, there was one poster in his room and a ton of shit on his bed. That’s what he was offering, a ton of comics that you wondered where he found them, video games, books, a paint set…in prestige condition as well. You seriously needed to know where Carl found this stuff.

“I want the comics.” You said before making your way to the comics, picking it up from his bed and flicking through it.

“That’s my second favourite.” Carl pointed out, closing the door behind him and walking to stand beside you.

“Oh, well, then I’m taking it.” You smiled, “it’s so hot in here.” You fanned your face before taking your jacket off and placing it on the chair that was in Carls bedroom.

“Be careful, there’s some weird scenes in that one. That’s why it’s my favourite.” Carl joked, you chuckled slightly.

“So what, like sexual stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Let’s recreate them.” You joked as well. Carl stayed quiet, not knowing how to react. His mind went to other places…he couldn’t help but think about you and him recreating those scenes… “Carl?” You nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He breathed out, a very obvious rose pink blush spread across his face. “Do you really want to recreate those?” Carl blushed.

“Do you?” You looked at him, he breathed in before nodding.

“I mean, we only have like 5 minutes left…maybe another time.” You glanced down at your watch.

“No!” Carl startled you, your eyes widening at the sudden burst. “I mean, 5 minutes is enough.”

“Are you sure? What if my dad comes barging in the room and sees us?” You feared.

“He won’t, we can be quick.” You looked at Carl unsure, you felt your panties starting to stick to you. “Unless you totally want to, I’m not forcing you. In fact, let’s just forget about what I said. You wanted the comics, here you can have them.” Carl reassured you, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t like.

You found it cute how he was talking so fast, almost like he was nervous. The thought of Carl missing you and being nervous about you made you wet.

“Alright, let’s go back outside. I bet your dads waitin-“ You cut Carl off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours. He held his hands over yours, you let go off his lips with a deep breath.

“You said we’ll be quick, right!?” You were already removing your shirt, Carl kissed you again before taking taking his own shirt off revealing his body to you. You gasped, running your hands along his body, feeling his light muscles coming out.

You laid Carl down onto the bed, sitting on his lap. He unclasped your bra from behind for you and took id off. He stared at your boob, mouth agape. “Can I?” He looked up at you, needy.

“Of course.” That’s all you needed to hear before his lips wrapped around your nipples. “Fuck.” You breathed under your breathe, tugging onto Carls hair.

Carl let go with a ‘pop’, you stood back up removing your jeans along with your panties whilst Carl did the same, removing his boxers. You straddled Carl again, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in, your lips made its way to his neck.

“Please, please.” Carl begged, you probably only had about 2 minutes left so you had to be quick.

Carl slowly felt your pussy, “Shit.” he was harder then ever now, he needed you wrapped around him so badly. He slowly aligned himself with your seeping hole. He slowly thrusted into you, letting you get used to the feeling.

“Carl.” You moaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer and kissing your neck. You whimpered, feeling Carl sucking on your neck.

“Fuck, next time I see you, I’m gonna take it nice and slow with you. Treat you real nicely.” He groaned, you rolled your hips in sync with Carls thrust.

You felt yourself coming close, “Shit baby, you feel so good.” Carl praised, his praises brought you closer. You bit your lip to suppress your moans.

“Fuck.” You held onto Carl so tightly as you came, Carl kept going to help you through your orgasm. You felt Carl release inside of you.

After you were out of the haze, you began to get redress. You retouched yourself, fixing your hair making sure it looked like it did before, fixing your clothing and soothing your hand over it to fix the creases. “I’m sorry this wasn’t quite the best ever, but I promise you when you come back I will treat you even better.” Carl held your hands within his, kissing each knuckle.

“This was the best carl.” You reassured him, “i’ll see you later.” You giggled, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you and Carl made your way outside.

“There you are kid, I was getting worried.” Your dad said, folding his arms and a relieved look on his face.

“Sorry.” You giggled, you got into the car with your dad. Before leaving, you waved at Carl smiling so much.

“Did Carl not have anything good?” Negan asked.

“Nope” You popped the ‘p’.

“Why’re you smiling so much? Never seen you smile this much before.”

“No reason.” You looked back outside the window, he didn’t need to know the reason why you were.

a/n: i got lazy at the end :(( i’m sorry about that, i hope you enjoyed nonetheless! this is the longest fic i have ever written, my hands are very tired… also i just realised the title doesn’t really go with the plot but oh well… hope u enjoyed though!!!

thank you anon for the request!!!

(not proofread)

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes smut #carl grimes angst #carl x you #carl grimes fic #negan smith #twd carl #carl twd #twd #twd fluff #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x y/n

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zombiewhor3 · 1 year

Text

TEMPTATIONS

fem reader x daryl dixon

WARNINGS: reader is over 18, consent is given, mentions of drunk sex, mentions of intoxication, usage of alcohol and cigarettes, un-protected sex, mentions of hangovers, female reader, AFA, penetrative sex, mentions of teasing, double smut!

A/N: creds to gif owner, i haven't written for Daryl in a while so in honor of that heres a smutty Daryl one shot, this feels really short even though its 2.3k words but its un-edited so theres probably mistakes!

she felt the sunlight beaming down on her and she fluttered her eyes open but practically almost rolled out of the bed when she looked at the man who was laying next to her.

he was peacefully asleep his head sinking into the pillow his chest rising against the bed as the comforter and the sheets covered over his body, she looked down at hers to see she was stripped of her clothes not even in her bra or panties.

she wrapped herself up in the sheet from the bed and tossed a pillow at him to wake up from his slumber, he groaned and rubbed his forehead at the aching he was feeling.

he looked to see y/n covering herself in the sheets as she looked almost pale to the fact they were in the same bed without even such as an article of clothing on either of their bodies.

"What the hell y/n?!" he shouted and watched as she furrowed her brows at him, "you were in MY bed" she huffed back looking around the room to make sure that it was hers and in fact not his.

he sat up on the bed peaking under the sheets to realize he was naked and he used part of the sheets she hadn't used to wrap her body to cover over the lower half of his body.

she took in a deep breath at the realization of last nights events, after the dinner party the leader of Alexandria through for them in their honor of joining the community it led to alcohol.

in a stable place like this they had a stash, a stash they generously gave out to the new comers that surrounded them and since they had gone months with out even such as a slight enjoyment for themselves the indulged on the opportunity.

maybe y/n and Daryl just a little bit to much,

her memory had started to strike her as she sat on the edge of the bed, all their clothes on the floor scattered like they had been just so desperate to get to each other.

his hand rubbing over her skin with each thrust inside her, it was like one of those romance novels where the sex was so good it made her feel just as drunk as the liquor did.

she remembered the way that his cock had almost barely fit inside her, the way she begged for every inch of him until he was surrounded by the flesh of her clenching walls that couldn't stop wanting to pull him even closer.

"did we you know?" Daryl asked as he swallowed and looked over at her, she nodded softly and looked down at her hands which fiddled with the sewing of the cotton sheets wrapped around her.

"god i can't believe we got that drunk last night"

she sighed, now this was something she couldn't get out of her head. She couldn't get the amazement of the feeling of his hands roaming her and the way his lips were so soft on hers.

she figured that this was a silly accident and that it wasn't his true feelings instead some of the sex deprivation that was lingering in him, the lack of sex was what that was last night.

nothing special is what she tried to coax herself into believing.

he wanted her to believe that it was a mistake because partially it was, he didn't mean to get that drunk and let his feelings for her spill out just like that, just into one night he had to piece together.

breakfast was almost like hell as members of the group sat around the large table, half of them fighting against their hang overs while the others seemed to have joy filled conversations.

Daryl and y/n had been awkward not even saying anything to one another which was odd since they were usually the ones sitting next to one another chatting away about some random topic.

but now they were across the table from each other silent and apologizing in their awkward manners each time they ended up reaching for the same exact thing on the table.

so much so that they didn't even finish their breakfast at the table and instead they had each moved into separate rooms, one on the porch and one who excused themselves to the kitchen.

y/n pressed herself up against the counter and refilled her glass halfway with some of the juice that rested on the counter, she took a sip and started to poke at the food on her plate.

Daryl was on the porch sitting on the step and he placed his half eaten plate of food by his side not even bothering to want to finish eating anymore after the awkwardness at the table inside.

he let out a deep breath and rubbed over his face gazing around at the empty road that was in front of him, he watched one of the trees planted in the grass of the yard blow in the wind.

she took another bite of her food before placing the rest on the counter for any of the others that wanted to have at it since in this time it was like a deathly sin to waste any sort of food.

he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head, the way her back arched so impatiently as he teased her with just the tip of him and when he finally fulfilled her wish he remembered the way that her nails dug into his shoulder blades,

the way she bucked her hips up and the way she was crying and moaning out his name so prettily that alone would've made him spill.

he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, he cupped over the cigarette that hung in his mouth, he heard the click of the lighter as the flame rose and he lit his cig.

he inhaled some of the smoke with his drag before blowing it into the air using his two fingers to pull the stick away from his lips before gently placing it back into his mouth.

she could feel almost as if he was touching her again when she rubbed her thighs together to gain a friction, she imagined that with the clasping of her legs that it was the touch of his hands away but she quickly pushed back the fantasy as a member of the group walked into the kitchen to put their plate in the sink.

Carol looked at y/n and furrowed his brows as to why she wasn't sitting at the table with them, "you to hungover?" Carol asked with a smile watching y/n nod as a small one came onto her face.

"quite" y/n replied as she drank the rest of the juice in her glass and placed it into the shining silver sink in front of them, she took in a breath as she watched the curtains blow in the wind.

Carol hadn't said anything because it was obvious y/n hadn't wanted the tension of Daryl and her to be noticed even though any person with a pair of eyes could sense the feeling between the pair.

she looked at door in front of her, the white coat of paint hadn't even had such as a chip or a crack in it. she stood in front of it with her fist ready to knock but she could feel her heart beating like she was about to start an important race.

her fist knocked against the door three times and it only took a few seconds for him to answer it, he stood with a furrow in his brows and he offered her inside with already an idea of what he believed that she had shown up on his door step for.

"you don't have to explain we were both drunk and i-" she cut him off with a kiss wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and she felt as he started to kiss her back with such a passion even the actors of a romance movie couldn't fake if they tried their hardest.

he gently placed her onto the couch and started to kiss at her neck, nipping and sucking at the gentle skin while his hands started to wander at the clothes that covered her body.

the clothes that within a matter of seconds he had pulled off her body and they rested down by the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

she gasped at the feeling of his hands gripping at her waist while he sucked down from the nape of her throat down to her navel until his hand was sucked into her underwear and rubbing small circles on her clit that was ever so throbbing and desperate for him.

she had stripped away all of his clothes and he was left just in his boxers to where she palmed at those so needily, so needily that she had started to whine and impatiently bucked her hips up just so she could grind against the hand that was touching her.

he chuckled as he felt the desperate movements of her body pressing up against his, he let her pull the boxers off of him and he slid off the cotton of her panties taking a glimpse of them before he had tossed them away to the floor where the rest of the clothes laid,

he teased at her and she grasped at the sides of his shoulders feeling him come closer to her as he pressed his cock inside her again, and now she knew that this felt even better when she wasn't drunk.

it felt so good that she moaned into him as her hands held onto the back of his neck to keep a stable grip and well to keep him closer because she knew they both liked it,

she felt his member practically re-arranging her stomach and it made her cry out in such pleasure that if she got louder she'd be at the point of screaming her lungs out for him.

he heard the sounds of their bodies slapping together and he smelt the sweetness of her hair that fell back on the front of her shoulders where he had buried his face into to kiss the side of her neck.

"oh god Daryl, i'm gonna-" she couldn't even finish because another thrust resulted in her mouth being laid a gape and a loud moan that erupted from the pit of her heart for him and his wild movements.

"doing so well y/n" he whispered against her and she could feel his breath swarming down her skin sending pleasurable goosebumps from the way it was turning her on even more.

with just a few more thrusts they had both spilled, he pulled out of course to prevent getting her pregnant meanwhile her juices had poured out onto the flesh of his abdomen as she panted.

he slipped on his boxers and his jeans and ran to the kitchen to grab a rag, one that was damp so that he could clean her up. He gently rubbed the cloth over her body and cleaned up the mess he spilt onto her legs and parts of her thighs.

she meekly thanked him and felt as he slipped back on her clothes for her, he helped her stand and made sure she didn't fall over from the slight wobbling her legs had from the event of the act.

she laid her head on his shoulder and felt the clasp of his hand holding hers, their fingers intertwining. "what made you want to show up here?" he asked and she shrugged her shoulders at him.

but he nudged her to give him and answer because he knew that she had her exact reason for coming here, it wasn't just because she wanted to show up here.

"why did you kiss me last night?" she asked and felt him shift and squeeze her hand a little harder without an answer, "was it because you were sex deprived?" she asked and watched as his brows furrowed and his head snapped to look at her.

"it's because i like you not because i'm some sex freak" he remarked back and she could feel her heart skip a little, "now answer my question as to why you showed up here" he spoke.

"because i couldn't stop thinking about last night and the way i felt even before we got drunk and slept with each other" she replied and lifted their hands up so she could place a kiss on them.

he used his thumb to rub over the top of her hand and it sent a soothing sensation throughout her body, "its more than a liking Daryl" she admitted and he looked down at her.

"i love you to y/n"

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writella · 8 months

Text

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn’t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fluff #twd fanfiction #twd fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #writella’s sfw section

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lunajay33 · 3 days

Text

Change Part.4

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning

I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking

I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him

“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back

I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising

“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed

He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered

“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom

“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door

I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist

“I’m here for you Daryl, always”

He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes

“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up

“Thanks”

“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room

“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed

As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up

“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers

“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet

I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly

“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact

“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us

“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”

“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be

“We can……….we will”

•12 Years Later🩷

“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’

Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing

“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago

“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee

“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked

As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself

•Flashback

“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move

“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves

“Baby?”

“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”

•

We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump

Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better

I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me

“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window

I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others

“What the hell”

Part.5

Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken

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sleepyangelkami · 1 month

Text

PERVERTED II c.grimes

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - carl decides to go through with this weeks saturday sleepover. so far, he's been able to control himself. until, that is, he hears you whimper his name in your sleep.

☆ WARNINGS - smut, slight angst, somnophilia, thigh riding (kinda), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, wet dreams, sex dreams, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, noncon, heavy manipulation, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

"you sure you don't wanna come?" rick questioned as he took a box from his son, landing it inside the back of the truck. "we could use the help."

carl watched his dad place a hand on his hip before shaking his head, hand on his hat. "no, i promised y/n i'd stay over. can't miss saturday sleepover can i?" he'd laughed yet he knew he wouldn't wish to miss it for the world, either. rick gave him a look, lips slightly perking up as if he knew something. "what?"

rick wasn't born yesterday either. he was well aware what it was like to have a silly crush, especially at that age. but this... this was much different. "nothin'" before packing in the last box. "you be good, alright? don't ruin the house while glenn and maggie are gone."

the two were going on the supply run with him, along with many more of the fighters. "bye, dad." watching him get into the rusted car.

and so, the day went on.

by the time lunch rolled around, carl still hadn't seen you. however, he wasn't entirely alone. he soon found ron who decided to help him look for you. in return, you'd also be looking for his also missing girlfriend, enid.

"they're always running off." ron muttered under his breath. he knew enid was close with you, possibly your best friend had carl not been thrown into the mix. enid was always running off with you, slinging you around by the arm. "hey, what's the deal with you two anyway?" carl's head peeked up, brows knitting together. "is she like your girlfriend or something?"

his mind moved like puzzle pieces. girlfriend. carl had never had a girlfriend before but he was pretty sure you had to kiss and all that to actually be in a relationship. then again, you don't touch yourself with your 'friend's panties sitting on your dick. he cleared his throat. "no... no we're not together."

saying you were his friend didn't seem all too right but saying you weren't his girlfriend didn't seem right either. you were something.

but ron didn't look convinced, rolling his eyes with his brows raising slightly. "whatever, dude." was it really all that obvious to everyone aside from you? carl thought that if there was a competition on the most oblivious person alive, you'd win.

but perhaps that was the easier option. would he have preferred you to know? everything seemed so easy with the fact that you were so oblivious. it was like a reminder that he could do anything he wanted right under your nose.

"finally." hearing the mutter from ron, carl looked up. this was when he was met with the sight of you, as pretty as ever, sat next to enid on a bench near the town's pond.

carl could barely look at you. the way you sat with your legs folded, smiling away innocently, completely unaware of what he'd done last night. you wore a pretty skirt, enough to slightly hike up your legs, giving carl a view of the pretty plush of your thighs.

he could only imagine digging his hands around the plush, holding it and kneeding the skin. he could only imagine grasping your thighs, holding them close while he rammed his di―

"there you guys are!" ron exclaimed causing carl to shake his head, ridding himself of the thoughts he'd been having. "carl and i were looking all over for you." he had this voice he used when he spoke to girls, one that carl could guarantee was not the voice he used with him.

enid only rolled her eyes. the sight of her boyfriend and carl was enough to have her smile drop. "well, we weren't looking for you." she mumbled. some may say she didn't like anyone aside from you, not even her own boyfriend. carl didn't think there was much of a point of being with someone that you didn't even like. "hence the getaway pond."

ron must have thought she was joking because he came up to pinch her side and kiss her cheek. the sight alone had carl's stomach turning.

however, the sweet sound of your lulling voice was enough to bring him back. "hi, carl." you beamed at him, smile as wide as ever. he hadn't even registered you moving from the bench to his side. all he remembered was the feeling of you snaking in next to him, your body so close. suddenly, he felt so dirty. "we were feeding the ducks." smiling like a child on christmas. you always smiled like that, like you had a thousand things to be smiling about. it always made carl wonder if you were truly made for this world at all.

when he was around you, he was fighting off his own smile. yours was so contagious. the way his lips curved upwards told you he was happy for you, he always was. "that's great ba― y/n." correcting himself as his expression faltered, smile wavering.

he watched as your entire face fell.

he was unable to bring himself to call you those cute names. baby, sweetheart, like an old couple who'd spent their entire lives together. he couldn't bring himself to say such things after he imagined himself fucking you just the night before. it didn't seem right, not when you were so oblivious to the dirtiness behind his words.

the smile wiped clean from your face, carl was sure you could have cried.

you reminded him somewhat of a kicked puppy.

he'd been the one to kick you.

he never called you y/n, unless speaking to someone else like his father or even ron. this was because they'd hardly understand who you were if he was referring to you as sweetheart.

the point was, he only used your name if it was wholeheartedly necessary.

you wondered what'd changed.

your mind ran back to the night before. when he'd entered your house, looking awfully suspicious and at the sight of you, he practically rushed out the door. had you done something wrong? your heart ached at the idea that you may have upset him. a heart of gold, some people said you had. carl had to beg to differ. the look on your face explained all he needed to know, a heart of mere paper.

he regretted it the moment he said it.

he knew how you got, how all up in your head you could be. he could only imagine how you'd be for the rest of the day, going over every interaction you've ever had with the boy and wondering where everything went wrong, where you messed up.

the moment your name slipped from his lips, he thought it may have been better to call you anything else in the entire world. even if it was laced with the dirty undertone.

he felt your body move slightly away from his, eyes cast down on the ground to avoid any glances. "'m gonna go see aaron." you announced, rather loudly too.

"okay." enid responded, her eyes glancing you over before turning to carl, a slight glare, if you will. she didn't particularly like carl, though carl hadn't the foggiest idea why. perhaps it was because she was so protective of you. carl had to roll his eyes, if anyone knew what was good for you, it was him. "don't stay out too late."

you didn't respond, grasping your bag that sat at the bench before turning onto the footpath.

carl had to purse his lips. "wrong way." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

with slightly wide eyes, you realised he was right. spinning around on your heel, you began walking left instead of right. "thanks." you mumbled under your breath before continuing your walk to one of your favourite people in the entirety of alexandria.

back at the pond, carl was cursing himself under his breath before turning around to find two accusing pair of eyes sat on the bench. one pair belonged to enid, the other to ron. "what did you do?" was enid's accusing tone, her face hard as stone. carl was on the receiving end of this look very often, he didn't fear it... well, he feared it a little but not as much as before... okay he feared it.

"what do you mean what did i do?" he instantly fell to defending himself. despite the fact that he knew he was the reason for your declining mood. "i didn't do anything."

whether it was to intimidate carl or that she smelled the sort of fish smell of ron that carl had smelt earlier, she perked up on the bench, loosening her boyfriend's arm across her shoulder. "she looks like a deflated balloon." she argued.

"yeah." ron nodded his head. carl couldn't stop the glare he sent his way, what did he know. "everyone knows aaron's like her very own guidance councillor, his boyfriend too." he shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you did, i'd say fix it quick."

the brunette boy only glared at the couple. "thanks guys, for that enlightening advice. but i don't need it, okay? i didn't do anything."

on the contrary, he was well aware that it was his fault. he needed to fix it and he needed to fix it fast but he didn't need enid and ron whispering in his ears. nobody knew you like carl, they didn't know what they were talking about. they hadn't seen you crying over some stupid movie you watched. they didn't see you smiling the way he did, they didn't take notice like him.

they'd never understand what it was like to know you. only carl would. and he'd make sure of that.

the sun was setting by the time carl had made it to your house. you'd opened the door, taking him in with your eyes before allowing him inside. maggie and glenn were on the run so the two of you headed straight towards the bedroom where'd you'd begin the movie night. however, carl was more focused on the fact that you'd spoken barely four words to him tonight rather than which disney movie you'd force him to watch this time.

he knew you were in your head but you wouldn't utter the words because what were you meant to say? hey carl, why didn't you call me baby? something so simple had ruined your entire day.

however, carl couldn't keep it in anymore. "are you okay?" he blurted out after many moments of silence as he sat atop your pink bed sheets.

you, at the foot of the bed pursed your lips. you pressed play on the movie and allowed the credits to begin. you weren't the type of person to insist that you were fine if you weren't. carl liked that about you, he never had to guess. "are you mad at me?" voice meek, like a childs.

the realisation hit carl that despite what he was feeling for you, he'd have to push it down in order to continue your friendship. at least, he couldn't take it out on you. "'course not, baby, c'mere."

the name fell from his lips like sweet relief.

it suddenly occurred to the boy that you needed him. desperately so. something as simple as calling you by your first name had thrown off your entire day. carl should have been worried, concerned even. instead, his heart fluttered a little.

you truly did rely on him.

with a sigh of relief, you found yourself crawling up to the boy. today had been so long with you being in your own head so when you felt the feeling of his hands sneak around your waist, it was like coming home after a long day at work.

you couldn't see his face but if you could, you'd see the sheer nervousness on his face. he needed to control himself but he wasn't sure how that was possible while you cuddled up against him beneath your bed sheets, clad in your pretty pale blue shorts and your white spaghetti strap top.

your knee was bent, extending over the top of his legs. there was a sharp intake of breath as your knee gently bumped against the prominent bulge in his shorts. you hadn't noticed, he knew you hadn't noticed and to make sure you wouldn't notice, he reached over to switch off the light, clearing his throat. "so, uh, what are we watching?"

"the princess frog." you answered, turning your head up to look at his face as he groaned.

a look of displeasment was evident on his face. "it's so boring!" he practically gushed.

offence hit you like a truck. "excuse me!" you battled. "i'd like to see you opening up your own restaurant all by yourself." even carl had to admit, you got him there.

carl never understood why you picked movies that you fell asleep so early during.

he heard your soft snores and your gentle breath hit the crook of his neck within the first half hour of the movie. though he couldn't blame you. truthfully, he could only blame himself in how he had your head messed up, practically knocked off your shoulders for the entire day.

it took until almost a full hour into the movie for you to stur.

at first, carl thought he'd misheard it. a little noise falling from your lips. then, he heard it again.

he held his breath as he heard the whimper leave your lips.

then, he felt it.

the gentle roll of your hips against his thigh had him practically seeing stars. the boy glanced to the tv hoping for some kind of a distraction from his obvious hard on. he couldn't wake you up, not because he actually couldn't. but because he wasn't too sure if he wanted to.

admitting it sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he'd be lying if he said he did want to. the little whimper you let out, sleepily and lowly albeit, into his ear was enough for him to almost completely loose his control.

it was like he was dreaming, it was everything he'd dreamed of, especially the night before.

you sounded even better than he'd thought.

he shouldn't have laid so still. you weren't aware of the way your hips bucked onto his leg, a little whine stretching from your lips. he reminded himself that you were too busy sleeping to understand what was going on. he couldn't engage with you, that'd be wrong.

so... wrong.

then he'd swore he heard it. "carl." a mumble in your sleep, enough for him to not know whether or not you were actually sleeping. he took a glance at your face, eyes screwed shut.

he was imagining things, he had to have been.

you soon rolled over, leaving him laying very stiffly as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

you were having a wet dream, obviously. that'd never happened before, at least not while cuddled up against carl. but he could have swore he heard you say his name. he shook his head, knowing he was wrong, he was so caught up in what had happened the night before that he was imagining you breathe his name.

then, he heard it again.

this time it was more stretched out into a whine. due to the movie on in the background, he could vaguely make out the way your cunt rutted onto nothingness, the mattress maybe but it wasn't enough to cause any real friction.

his mind stirred. if you really were having a dream about him, surely it was only his duty to... help?

but it was dirty, downright perverted.

but your noises were growing needier, obviously the bed wasn't enough for you to create real friction from. he had to help you. "poor girl, can't even get herself off." he mumbled under his breath, not enough to wake you up.

if he were to touch you, it wouldn't be for him. no, he was doing this for you.

he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't wake. on the contrary, you'd sleep through an asteroid should it hit your home.

he reached his hand down beneath the covers, holding his breath. he was helping you, he reminded himself, helping you. this was for you, making sure you felt good as your dream continued. your dream of him.

suddenly, he wasn't the all too dirty one. perhaps you were.

his fingers gently felt the core of your shorts, taking an intake of breath upon feeling just how wet you were. it practically seeped onto his fingers, it was a wonder if his sweatpants didn't have a wet stain on them from how you'd been rolling your hips against them.

he breathed in, gently massaging the area you needed him the most, you all but moaned into the pillow, eyes screwed shut.

carl had dreamed of this moment for as long as he lived, he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

the way your hips jutted into his hand, creating all the friction you needed and you whimpered again, still stuck in slumber, had carl's confidence through the roof.

it was as if saying his name, he realised you wanted it just as much as he did.

how he ended beneath the covers, he wasn't too sure. perhaps it was the newfound confidence he'd gained.

he'd spent too long dreaming of this moment to stop now. he breathed as shallow as a man could before his fingers travelled back to your shorts, gently pulling them away from your aching cunt. that was when he realised you hadn't been wearing panties. did you do that often around him? had you been... expecting something?

nonetheless, carl was more than willing to give it to you.

his breath fanned your pussy, prettier than his sick mind could have ever mustered. the image would be burned into his head, it'd never leave. one thing was for sure, this boy wasn't leaving the next morning without putting his mouth to your cunt.

and that was exactly what he did.

his tongue reached your pussy, licking a long stripe and feeling your thighs jump and your body jolt. obviously, never been touched.

he knew it'd be him who touched you first. now, it was just him making sure of it.

he licked again, your wetness gathering on his tongue. he tried to hold back the groan that spread throughout your entire body. yet, you still lay sleeping. it somehow only egged him on further. he knew you wouldn't wake. to him, your body was his for the taking. and he was going to take it.

his tongue found your cute hole, hands against your thighs, holding them, trapping them down.

tongue dancing across your clit, he heard you moan even louder, still trapped by slumber. his lips curved upwards, tongue circling your clit. he moved one of his hands, using his middle finger to gently slide into your sopping hole. so wet for him, already.

he cursed enid and ron for thinking they knew you. he cursed all of the people who thought they knew you. the truth was, the only person you could ever rely on would be him, he'd make sure that you got what you needed, make sure all your needs were fulfilled at all times. perhaps this was just him making sure of that fact.

his tongue moved away from your clit, moving his other hand to meet it. he saw the way your body writhed against his hands. he couldn't wait to do this when you were awake.

it wasn't until your thighs actually began to shake that he knew what was happening. "s'pretty." he mumbled, dazed as drool practically dripped from his mouth. you truly were, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encountered his entire life.

mouth moving back to your cunt, he moved his tongue back against your clit at an alarming pace. with his now free hand, he held your thighs down, trapping them under him as your body shook against him, jutting your hips back and practically rolling your hips against his face. he relished in it. you were practically getting off to his pretty face which told him all the more just how much you loved this.

he felt your hips force themselves back to the bed, shaking and vibrating until your juices poured out onto his tongue.

you'd came.

he lapped you up without second thought, tongue dancing over your hole and licking the juices off the single finger he'd pushed inside of you.

licking his lips, he finally rose. he watched your face lull in your sleep, obviously content and finally getting your sweet relief. he gently moved your shorts to cover your pussy again, as if nothing had happened at all.

it took mere seconds for you to roll back over and onto him, cuddling against his side. he couldn't help but feel even dirtier.

you'd never even know.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

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aurasplanet · 6 days

Text

CARE FOR YOU carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, reader gets a little hurt, fingering, oral (f!receiving), a bit cheesy

carl hated when you went outside of the walls, especially without him. when it came to himself he was so fearless, but when it came to people he cared about, when it came to you? the worry just wouldn’t leave his body. it couldn’t.

all you wanted to do was go grab a few comics from the pile he stashed out in the woods. “quick and simple,” the sweet smile you sent him with your words had him melting and agreeing. you wouldn’t go far, and he would stay by the walls to help you and keep lookout.

but the longer he stood, the slower time seemed to move, the more he wondered if getting caught going out at night is worth risking your life. maybe he’s thinking too negatively, but he can’t be too careful about you.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears clanks against the walls. “love?” he whisper-calls out. carl’s never been one for pet names, settling for ‘love’ since it was short, sweet, and you’re his love. he still gets a little awkward when he uses it.

he hears your quiet mumble of ‘uh-huh’ and a few moments later you’re on top of the wall. you’re chest is rising and falling frantically trying to breathe. “c’mon…” he trails off, watching you get low enough for him to grab you.

he sets you down on the grass and your body stumbles forward. “what happened?” his hands go to inspect your body, hearing you wince when he touched certain areas. he saw some blood and his teeth clenched, scooping you up bridal style to carry you back to his house.

you laugh, but it’s cut off by a wince in pain. “you don’t have to carry me, i can still walk, you know?”

when carl gets to his front door he puts you down, but still guides you by your side. “it was quicker.” you could tell he was trying to match your playful attitude, but carl doesn’t play about you getting hurt.

he sets you down on his bed, going to his bathroom to fetch the medical supplies usually used for his bandage.

you sigh and place your hand over his frantic ones beside you. “carl, you need that stuff.”

he shakes his head and lifts your shirt, inspecting the injury you were bleeding from. “right now, you do. now answer me, what happened?”

you explain to him about how you were making your way to your spot when a handful of walkers decided to crash in. you fought them off alright, but managed to take a tumble with one, and get cut up by a few tree branches.

he shakes his head, leaning it down to rest on your thighs. you take his hat off to run your hands through his hair, tugging it a little so he looks up at you. “i’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile.

carl sighs and reaches for his supplies, “and you’re gonna stay that way, alright? even if i have to lock you up here.” he smiles, you love when he smiles.

carl looks focused as he places gauze over the wound, wrapping it just like he does with his eye. he looks at you with a sheepish smile, “that’s all i know how to do…” you giggle and brush his hair from his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek as a thank you. he hums and shuts his eye, leaning forward to peck your lips. “did you even get the comics?”

wincing as you reach back, you pull two bent up comics from the back pockets of your oversized jeans. he shakes his head and chuckles airily, taking them out of your hands and tossing them to the side. he leans forward and kisses you again, causing your back to hit the mattress.

you whimper in pain and his hands come to your sides, rubbing soothingly at your skin. “don’t move,” he whispers against your lips, kisses trailing down your neck. “let me take care of you.” he could tell you were shaken up, as best as you tried to hide it. he could feel how tense you are, he wanted to relieve you. he’ll do his best to make you feel better and forget all about everything.

instead of having you lift your sore arms up to take your shirt off, he opts for sliding your shirt up over your breasts. every time he sees you he’s in awe again. he keeps his face close to yours, studying you for any pained expressions. his hand slowly creeps under you to the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it with a short laugh before getting it undone.

his hands come up to cup your tits through your bra, sliding the material down. his eye flicks from your chest to your face and he presses another kiss to your lips before lowering himself to wrap his lips around your nipple.

you let out a hum of pleasure and carl feels your body beginning to relax beneath him. your hands thread through his hair again and he sighs, “your sounds are so pretty, love.” his voice is muffled, the lewdness contrasting his sweet words made your face heat up.

he also wasn’t the kind to dirty talk, or talk much at all during intimate times. he never learned any of that, you both were learning together. and he’d do anything for you.

his mouth separates from your skin, a small trail of spit connecting them. his lips trail wet kisses down your torso, his hands shakily messing with the zipper of your jeans. you laugh and sit up to help him, a pained groan escaping you.

“no.” carl eases your body back down onto the mattress, “i told you, i’ll take care of you.” his face is close to yours again, hand still making work of undoing your jeans.

you giggle at him, “looked like you needed help.”

he hums, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. his hand reaches down into your panties, teasing you. “my pretty girl still intimates me a little, is that such a crime?” you whimper at his words, at how close he is to where you need him most.

“you said you’d take care of me,” his teeth nip at your skin in response, the stimulation causing your hips to rut upwards. “you’re teasing.” with that two of his fingers press against your clit and rub in circles, eliciting a moan from you.

your hips follow the movements of his hand until you’re stopped by his other one, “what did i say? is it not enough, love?” you don’t answer him, you can’t. “already that gone? i’ve barely touched you…”

he lowers himself back down, face level with your pantie-covered pussy. his fingers hook under the elastic, pulling them down carefully. he smirks as your breathing picks up and your grip on his hair tightens.

he presses a small kiss to your clit, looking into your eyes. his hands made their way to your thighs, holding them in place. his lips wrap around your clit and give a small suck, watching your face the entire time.

“i can’t get enough of how you sound,” the raspiness of his voice has you reeling, bringing you closer and closer to the edge so easily. “how you taste.” he eases two fingers into you, groaning at how wet you were, how easy it was for him to get you this way.

you whimper out his name, tugging his head up by his hair and forcing his lips on yours. his fingers pump in and out of you quicker, kissing you messily. you moan into his mouth and clench around his fingers, head falling back with your eyes screwed shut.

his eye stayed on you, movements slowing down but helping you ride out your orgasm. your hand goes down to his, enclosing on his wrist and stopping his movements with a whimper. you’re breathless and spent again, this time in the safety of your boyfriend’s arms.

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd angst #twd oneshot #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd smut #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes angst #carl grimes x fem!reader

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mrdixon · 4 months

Text

bread and tomato soup

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

warnings: 18+ content, lots of plot, insecurity, the bath scene, readers on top!, not much of a power dynamic here, but theres teasing, squirting, little teeny bit of fingering, bit of a creampie too, daryl being cute

summary: daryl returns after three weeks, and reader decides to take care of him.

A/N: its january 3rd which means its MY BIRTHDAY :3 so here is just a fic about taking care of daryl in multiple different ways ;3 also just an excuse to talk about food im starving

masterlist

The house smelled of bread, the tap running as you washed your hands under it. Daryl has been on an expedition for about three weeks now, leaving you with nothing else to do but keep yourself busy. You got a lot of stuff done but you were still lonely.

You hummed to yourself as you moved over to the stove, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the tomato soup you were cooking. The sun was just starting to set, golden rays peeked through the curtains to leave kisses on your cheeks when you turned your head to the right. You lifted the spoon up to your lips, savouring the savoury but sweet taste of the soup. Something was missing, perhaps a bit of garlic? Thyme? You put some more of both in, stirring the soup a bit before tasting it again. A smile appeared on your face after deciding it was good enough, turning off the stove and putting the lid on top of the pot.

You bent down to check on the bread in the oven, the smell of sweet yeast filling your nostrils. It was perfect, nicely rounded and crisp on the outside. Closing the oven, you turned it off and reached back to undo your apron.

You almost missed the sound of the door opening, but you didn't. You quickly ran out of the kitchen and towards the entryway, seeing Daryl wiping his boots on the mat. You didn't think twice before jumping at him, hearing a grunt from him as he caught you with one arm, the other holding his bag. You kissed his cheeks repeatedly, his face scrunching up while the hand on your back gently rubbed you.

“Alrigh’ not too much,” he mumbled before setting you down and kissing your forehead. You looked down sheepishly, hugging him again.

“Sorry, I missed you.” You murmured, his calloused hand making its way through your hair while he smiled slightly.

“Dun’ apologize,” he chuckled. He smelled of sweat and mud with a hint of walker blood, but you didn't seem to care at all. The aroma was oddly comforting, and just the presence of him was enough for you. Deciding to revel in the moment, you snuggled into his chest as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

“How was your trip?” You breathed in, taking in his scent. He kept a hand on your lower back, shuffling you both out of the entryway of your home and placing his bag down. He just exhaled deeply at your question, his fingers tightening a little.

“Jus’ ta same ol’ thing.” He mumbled with a bit of a shrug as he let you go, “killed a bunch of walkers, found some supplies. Same ol’ song and dance.” His hand landed on your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze after noticing your concern. You however did not let it go.

“What’s wrong, hm?” You brought your arms up to his shoulders, looking up at him. He sighed, wrapping his own arms around your waist as his gaze darted around the house. His brows furrowed slightly, his expression changing.

“Nothin’, nothin’..” he muttered shaking his head, “jus’ got a lot in my head.” You frowned but didn't want to press further, instead nodding and moving away to let him get settled.

Daryl’s jaw clenched as he watched you move away from him, feeling slightly disappointed that the physical contact was broken. The moment quickly passed as his head perked up at the smell of freshly baked bread. You noticed his expression and chuckled, taking his hand.

“Want me to run you a bath? You can eat afterwards,” you smiled softly at him. He visibly tensed at the mention of a bath, his hand squeezing yours.

“Nah, ‘m good.” He sniffed, wiping his nose. You scrunched up your nose, chuckling.

“You sure? You’ve been out for three weeks, you're dirty.” You snorted, looking him up and down. You were right, his clothes were gross and probably stinky, his hair disheveled. “You're taking a bath, come.” You gently tugged him along with you.

“Alright… I’ll… I’ll take a bath,” he grumbled, his tone laced with annoyance. You rubbed his hand gently and entered the bathroom with him.

Daryl sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped, but he allowed himself to be dragged around by you. He stood by the counter while you went to fill up the bath with warm water, eventually returning back to him. You placed your hands on the buttons of his vest, looking up at him for permission to undress him.

His eyes shifted to the side slightly, uncomfortable under your scrutiny. His expression changed once your nimble fingers started unbuttoning his vest slowly, and after looking into your eyes for a few seconds more, he looked away and muttered, “go for it.”

You smiled at him softly, letting his vest fall to the floor before starting at his button-up. He stood by silently, watching you undress him without making any comments. The process felt slightly intimate and he felt a warm feeling in his stomach as he looked over you, and he didn't protest or try to stop you from doing your thing.

You let his shirt fall next to his vest, letting your fingers trace along the muscles of his arm, watching them tense under your graze. His breath hitched as your fingers danced down his sides, landing on his holster belt. You carefully unbuckled it and placed it on the counter.

He shifted his weight, continuing to stand silent as you did what you wanted. He couldn’t ignore the feelings of intimacy beginning to rise within him. Your hands slid back down to the belt holding up his pants, unbuckling it with practiced skill. Your fingers soon unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting it fall to the floor. Daryl shivered lightly at the sudden coolness on his skin, looking down at you for a moment, his expression shifting slightly at how eager you seemed to be at undressing him.

You looked up at him briefly before pulling down his boxers, looking away to give him some sort of privacy. He quickly turned towards the mirror, seemingly avoiding his image as he turned away just as quick. You turned back to him and smiled softly, taking his hand and kissing it gently. He felt his skin warming up and his cheeks flushed slightly, you’ve seen him naked before but this felt more intimate… somehow. The situation made him feel quite vulnerable, but despite his discomfort he remained silent and still.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly and led him towards the tub. Daryl followed you, feeling a tingle in his abdomen from the butterflies you arouse in him. He stepped into the bath, groaning softly once he sunk down into the waiting water. His eyes closed, letting out a sigh of relief as he relaxed in the warmth of the bath. You leaned over to turn off the tap, letting him sit in silence.

“Wait here? I’m just gonna put your clothes away and get you some new ones,” you murmured softly, watching his eyes peek open to look at you. He nodded contently, closing his eyes again. You nodded and left the bathroom quietly with his dirty clothes.

Daryl sat in the bath, leaning back against the rim. He was starting to feel more and more relaxed by the minute as he let the warm water wash away some of the filth on his skin. He sat patiently for a few minutes while waiting for your return.

You came back into the bathroom, some clean clothes and a rag in hand. The clean clothes were placed on the counter while the rag remained in your hand as you walked over to the tub, kneeling down next to it.

“Mind if I wash you?” You hummed. Daryl’s eyes flickered up to you for a moment, his face lightly flushed as he felt a little insecure about his body.

“Sure… go for it,” he grumbled hesitantly, his eyes looking away. You smiled reassuringly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. You lifted the rag and began slowly by scrubbing his chest, followed by his arms. Daryl flinched slightly at the touch, his muscles rippled and tightened as you grazed over his flesh. He forced himself to stay still, but even that was a lot to bear sometimes. With each stroke of the rag, his breath hitched.

“Relax,” you coaxed quietly into his ear. “Lean forward, lemme get your back.”

Daryl frowned slightly but obeyed your instruction, leaning forward in the tub to expose his back to you. He bit his lip nervously, though you’ve seen them before, he was still self-conscious about the scars on his body.

He grimaced whenever you would brush over the scarred skin, making the scars feel more pronounced. He hated the reminder of his past, always trying to run from it. But he loved you, and he knew that letting you see him like this was a way of accepting what happened and moving forward with his life. He wasn't used to this physical intimacy, but he felt okay being vulnerable with you.

You made sure to be gentle, and your soft actions didn't go unnoticed by him. Daryl let himself relax and reminded himself you were safe, letting go of the tension in his body as you washed away the dirt left on him. You kissed his shoulder sweetly, letting your free hand come up to run through his tangled hair.

“Okay, lean back.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand pushing him back. He complied once again, sighing softly as he felt your fingers combing through his thick hair trying to loosen the knots.

The two of you stayed silent throughout the exchange, the only noise was the water occasionally splashing or dripping. Your touch was comforting despite his initial discomfort, he began to sink into the water while his muscles relaxed. You were the first to break the comfortable silence.

“I need to drain the water, I’ll put some more since I still need to wash your hair. Unless you wanna get out now?” You hummed quietly, making sure not to startle him by the sudden noise. He shifted slightly and used his arm to prop himself up so he could sit.

“’s up to ya,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’ mind stayin’ in ‘ere longer, but I dun’ want ya ta have ta wait on me.” He rubbed his bottom lip anxiously, nibbling on the inside of it.

“I don't mind,” you smiled while shaking your head. You reached into the tub to drain the dirty water before grabbing the shower head and beckoning him closer, “let me wash your hair first.”

He looked at you for a long moment, nodding cautiously as he scooted over to you, bowing his head. You turned on the shower head, rinsing his hair so it was damp before taking some shampoo and lathering it into his hair. You soothingly scratched your nails against his scalp. His eyes shut tight, letting himself relax as you scrubbed his hair clean. The soothing sensation felt nice, although he couldn't deny how it made him feel…

You pulled your hands out of his hair to rinse out the shampoo. Daryl sat stoically, trying to rid himself of certain thoughts, his breathing deepened however as you washed his hair. The warm water and your touch sent a wave of chills down his spine. You soon turned off the water and fixed his wet hair so it was out his face, filling the tub with warm water again.

His mind started wandering again, his eyes darting around as you fixed his hair. It felt weird to have someone do something like this for him, but he didn't mind it. He trusted you, he loved you, and you helped him feel comfortable and safe in his own skin. He let his thoughts melt away into mush as he enjoyed the warmth of the water and the soft touches your fingers were giving to his hair.

“Gimme a kiss?” You smiled softly, leaning forward. He froze for a moment, intimidated by the sudden request, his face flushing. He thought for a moment if he wanted to, of course he did, but he wasn't big on physicality.

He grumbled nervously, looking away from your expectant eyes. Your smile faltered slightly, and he noticed. You pulled back and got up.

“Never mind, just holler when you're done.” You walked over to the door, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He awkwardly watched you walk away, clenching his fists. He felt guilty, he shouldn't but he still felt bad for rejecting you. The truth was, he really did want to kiss you.

“Wait!” He called out, watching you poke your head back in.

“Hm?”

Daryl was hesitant in the moment, not wanting to embarrass himself further. Still, he felt the need to explain himself. “’s not tha’ I dun’ wan’ ta kiss ya,” he said softly and let his shoulders sink into the water. “’s jus’ tha’…”

You cut him off, kneeling by the tub again while caressing the back of his head. “Don’t worry about it, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to.” You smiled sweetly up at him.

He exhaled softly at your response, licking his lips. He knew you were trying to make him feel better, but he still heard the genuine reassurance.

“But I do,” he whispered. “Can we uh… can we maybe try somethin’?” You hummed in response and knelt up to his level.

His breathing deepened at the sight of you, years of being married to you and he still felt weak in the knees every time he saw you. He felt a nervous excitement in his stomach, much like the feeling he had asking you to marry him. Your eyes flickered closed as he started to lean in, his closing too. When his hands came up, his fingers found your neck and traced your jawline softly. Your body felt familiar and warm, inviting in every way. You leaned closer, and he was worried you could hear his heart beating a million miles a minute. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. Your breath against his lips made him tremble.

Your lips met softly, and you sighed into the kiss. It’s been three weeks since you two had kissed, and you needed this. You needed the reassurance he still loved you like you loved him.

And of course he did, he never stopped loving you since the day you met. His lips felt soft on yours, warm breaths filling you both with tenderness. But most of all, it felt so natural.

His eyes kept closed, not wanting to disrupt the moment. He wanted to get lost in the moment, to forget everything in the world and focus on the way you made him feel.

Eventually, you pulled back, smoothening your hand over his hair as you stood up. “I’ll be in the kitchen, want me to help you get out and change, or do you think you can manage?”

“I wan’ yer help,” he said shyly, slowly looking up at you. “If ya dun’ mind doin’ tha’.”

“Of course, you wanna get out now or soak for a little bit longer?” You smiled at him while combing through his hair. He chuckled and nodded, he wanted to finish this up quickly.

“I wanna get out, then we can get ta cuddlin’ or somethin’.” He smirked, chuckling when you slapped his shoulder lightly. You went to drain the water before moving towards the counter to grab his towel. He followed after you, groaning softly as he stood up and walked over to you. His body shivered slightly as he held his arms up, letting you towel him off. You kept him warm and comfortable, his eyes trailing over the way your lashes curled, his muscles relaxing again as you finished.

You smiled up at him and pecked his lips briefly before handing him his boxers, seeing his eyes flicker with desire at the slight touch on his lips. He took his underwear and slipped them on, feeling butterflies swarm in his belly. You handed him some sweatpants, followed by his shirt. He pulled on his clothes, sighing on relief as he was fully covered again.

“There we go,” you murmured. “We can get to cuddling in a bit, you hungry?” You grinned knowing very well he was quite hungry after his trip. Your suspicions were correct when his stomach growled on cue, his head nodding curtly.

“Tha’d be nice…” he glanced down at you. “Then we can cuddle after?” You nodded and led him out of the bathroom, into the kitchen where you had set up a plate of bread and tomato soup. His eyes widened when he saw his plate of food, the freshly baked bread making a delightful assault on his senses.

“Smells amazin’,” he chuckled and sat down at the table, “ya made this?” He asked, dipping his bread in the soup and savouring each bite.

“Mhm,” you smiled warmly as you took your own plate and sat in front of him. You both sat in warm silence, enjoying each other’s company as you both continued to eat. He felt your warmth and love just from the way you cooked this meal for him.

“Thank you fer this,” he mumbled, finishing up his food. You hummed in response, taking both your plates over to the sink.

“It’s not much,” you shrugged as you washed the dishes. As you washed your dishes, Daryl’s mind began to wander. You cooked dinner, gave him a bath, helped him change, been so attentive and caring, but you didn't seem to want anything in return. He wanted to repay you for your kindness, for making him feel comfortable and safe in your hands. He wasn't sure what to do, but he knew he wanted to make you feel appreciated.

“We can cuddle now,” you turned to him, wiping your hands. He nodded lightly, his eyes roaming over your figure as he walked over to you. He felt pleasant with a sense of fullness, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you both walked towards your bedroom. You let him sit on the bed first, kissing his forehead. “Hang on, just gotta change into my slip.” He nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed while waiting for you to come back.

You soon emerged from the closet, wearing a deep red slip dress. His eyes locked on you and they widened at the sight, swallowing as you got closer to him.

“Ya look beautiful,” he breathed as you stood in front of him, his head tilted back to look up at you, placing his hands on your hips. You sighed softly when he pulled you onto his lap, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs, your body fitting perfectly with his.

“I missed you,” you whispered, a slight pout on your face as you let your fingertips rest on his cheeks.

“I missed ya too,” he whispered back, the feeling of being empty and lonely without you slowly ebbing away. He leaned in, kissing you gently. The intimacy finding its way into him again, the comforting feeling of your body on his was warm and welcoming.

You kissed him back, your hands moving down to rest on his shoulders. His hands moved from your hips, up to your waist, rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. He wanted to make up for lost time.

The atmosphere suddenly felt hotter, your kisses getting more desperate and intense while his hands moved back down to your hips. He pulled you closer onto him, pulling your body flush against his. You groaned into his mouth as you started rocking your hips against his, hearing him groan as well. The arousal between the two of you started to rise, the intensity of your grinding made your slip ride up. Daryl groaned at the sight of your full, plush thighs, his erection pressing against you. You were so delicate, but so eager.

Each movement you made, sent waves of pleasure up his body. His hands gripped tight onto your thighs, grunting against your neck as you pulled him close. The more you ground against him, the more your slip rode up and revealed your panties.

His breath hitched as you continued to roll your hips, he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at you. The way your lips were parted, the sight of your flimsy underwear eliciting a moan from him. His dick grew harder as his entire body trembled with arousal, placing one hand on your hip.

“Fuck… yer so sexy,” he bit her lip, pushing your slip up with one large hand. He sat up to fully remove your slip, tossing it onto the floor and immediately ravishing your breasts. You yelped, a hand moving to the back of his head as his mouth sucked on the flesh on your chest.

A soft breathy moan left your lips as his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, biting down gently. One of his hands moved to squeeze your ass, lifting you up slightly before directly placing you atop his erection. You whined at the feeling, squirming on him. He growled against your breast, squeezing the other as he lifted his head to look at you.

“Go on baby, do yer thing.” He whispered breathlessly, watching you grind down on him. Your panties shifted whenever you moved, letting him get a glimpse of your folds. He kept his eyes on your mound, reaching forward to rub circles over your clothed clit. You let out a mewl, biting your lip.

Evidence of your arousal quickly seeped through the thin fabric shielding yourself, smearing over his sweatpants the harder you grounded. Daryl let out a deep groan of approval, taking his thumb away from your clit and licking the wetness off of it. You almost felt yourself squirt right there but you held off, pushing him down onto his back.

He grunted at the gesture, grabbing your hips but grinning as you pushed his hands away. He just sighed and lay back, looking down as you got off of him to pull his pants and boxers off. He groaned at the feeling of his cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. He tried to sit up again but you wouldn't let him, instead pulling off your panties and sitting on his lower stomach. He smirked up at you, his gaze wandering up and down your body.

“Let me sit up, I wanna touch ya properly.” He chuckled, gaining a nod of approval. He quickly sat up, his hands on your ass as he shuffled you both onto the bed. He moved the pillows to the side and sat against the headboard, grinning cheekily at you. You giggled back at him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass. “Gonna take care of me?”

“You bet your ass I’m gonna,” you sneered, reaching behind you to run your fingers along his length. He hissed through his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he looked right at you. His grip tightened on your ass, a low growl in his throat as he waited for you to take this further.

You took the hint, lifting yourself up and grabbing onto his length firmly. Daryl’s breath hitched as he reached out to spread your folds with his thumb, licking his lips at how wet you were. His thumb drifted towards your clit again, drawing out a whine from you. He chuckled at your desperation, thinking he had the upper hand, but you quickly proved him otherwise.

Instead of sinking down on him like he thought you were going to, you ran his tip along your slit, circling your clit. You caught the way his eyes rolled back and his fingers twitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips. You smirked a little, letting his tip invade through your entrance, quickly pulling it out. He growled at your teasing, grabbing your hips and trying to push you down onto his cock.

“Nuh uh Dixon, patience.” You coaxed, caressing his hair. He grumbled, letting go of your hips and letting his hands fall by his side. You continued with the slight teasing, letting the head of his cock in and out, just the tip nothing more. He threw his head back, closing his eyes as his body trembled with the need to just flip you over and take you the way he needed. But he relented and let you do your thing.

You watched as his chest heaved with every heavy breath he took, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He closed his mouth at the gesture, sighing softly as the same butterflies swarmed in his belly again. The feeling of your love was too much for him, the tenderness of it all putting him at ease. At this moment you decided it would be a good time to slam down onto him, evoking a loud moan from both of you. His brows furrowed as he felt your walls flutter around his length, his hands squeezing your hips as to stabilize himself. He almost came right there, the both of you had been deprived of intimacy for three weeks. So you both knew this wouldn't last long.

“Jesus… fuckin’ christ woman,” he groaned. “Ya made me hit my head on the headboard.” You stifled a laugh, earning a glare from him. His hands played around the small of your back, leaning in to kiss you.

You met his lips with equal need, parting your lips to let his tongue slither in. The taste of bread and tomato soup lingering on his tongue. As you two made out, you tested the waters by inching him out slowly and inching him back in. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still closed by his face twitched before landing in the crook of your neck. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his head, his arms wrapping around your back as you moved slowly. His breath was hot and heavy and you could hear the occasional whimper and whine from him whenever you’d swivel your hips. You let yourself go and let out your own moans, his hands dancing along your back as you rolled your hips.

Your clit rubbed on the tuff of hair above his cock, moaning wildly at the sensation. His lips kept busy as he sucked the skin on your neck, biting and leaving marks on the blank canvas. Your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling him tense at the feeling but not protesting.

“Ah… Dar,” you breathed. The nickname slipped off the tip of your tongue so naturally, you felt his cock twitch against your walls. His hands rested on your back, leaning back to then dive in between your breasts. He raised his hands to squish the two mounds of flesh together, kissing each nipple softly. You let out a breathless giggle, curling your fingers into his hair. He peered up at you through his eyebrows, licking up the curve of your breast and swirling around the nipple, his thumb doing the same to the other.

You sighed, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and you started to lift yourself up and down on his length. Feeling the way you contracted around his cock, hearing the hiss from his mouth. He let your breasts go, his hands drifting down to your ass once again. He gently guided you up and down his cock, biting his lip to muffled his moans.

Daryl’s hand came to rub your clit again, this time harder than before. Your hips jerked forward, whining at the sensitive feeling. “C’mon, ‘m gonna cum… wan’ ya ta cum wit’ me.” He groaned into your hair.

You nodded, your eyes still closed as you rode him faster. The way you tightened around him allowed you to feel every inch and every vein on his cock, the head brushing against your sweet spot with every rock of your hips. Your mouth fell open to let out whatever noises you could make in the moment, one of your hands on the back of his neck while the other remained tangled in his hair.

You rode him hard, the bed rocking with every movement and the headboard hit the wall a few times. Yet the sound of your moans reverberated through the room, your noises going straight to Daryl’s cock as he bucked his hips up into you. The way he did it allowed him to hit your sweet spot perfectly, and also threw you off the edge.

Stars were all you could see as your movements halted, your mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as you came. But he didn't yet.

“Fuck… ya came without me?” He growled, biting your shoulder before pushing you down onto your back and ramming himself in and out of your sensitive cunt. This time the cry that sounded from your mouth was louder than ever, your head thrown back while your hands dropped to your sides and gripped onto the sheets. Your walls clamped down on his length, the sensitivity too much for you as you felt a second orgasm rapidly building up. But the heat was too much.

Daryl’s hands squeezed your waist, letting out a shout as he came inside you, still thrusting himself in and out of you to bring out your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and your moan came out as a deep groan, this time fluids rushed out of your wet heat and spilling onto his thighs and the sheets, soiling them completely. He gasped, panting heavily as the sight. He couldn't resist and you felt a finger or two slip into you, the wet sounds totally erotic. He fingered you through the intense orgasm, groaning at how wet and slick you were.

You let yourself sink into the bed, closing your eyes, and his fingers eventually slipped out of you. His eyes stayed on your figure, the hickeys on your neck and chest, your pussy and thighs glistening with your wet arousal. You felt him kiss your lips softly, kissing your cheekbone before slowly leaving you on the bed.

You sighed and just lay there, naked and sprawled over the bed like some porno. But when you heard the sound of water rushing from the bathroom, you smiled and felt even warmer than you already did.

“Time fer yer bath,” Daryl’s voice made you open your eyes, craning your head to see him walk over to you. He smiled down at you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards the bathroom. You glanced up at him sleepily, pushing yourself up to kiss his jaw, his stubble prickly against your lips. He squeezed you tightly in response, kicking the bathroom door open and placing you in the warm bath. “I’ll be righ’ there ta join ya, jus’ gotta change the sheets.”

You nodded in response, leaning against the rim of the tub and closing your eyes. His hand came up to rub your head gently before scurrying out of the bathroom. You breathed softly, your stomach in pleasant knots at how much you adored your husband. Letting yourself soak in the warm water as your body felt lighter.

You almost flinched when you felt a body slip in next to you, Daryl was way too quiet sometimes. He gently maneuvered you so you sat on his lap, your back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, turning his head to kiss your neck softly. You smiled contently, snuggling into him as you both melted into the warm water.

“I love you,” you murmured hoarsely.

“I love ya too,” he responded just as gruff, squeezing you gently as he placed another kiss on your neck. You both sat in silent, just soaking in each other's love and warmth, his fingers rubbing your back to rid of the soreness he may have put on you.

“I’m hungry,” you mumbled and felt his chest rumble against your back as he laughed.

“I’ll heat ya up some of tha’ bread and tomato soup. How’s tha’ sound?” His whisper made you shiver delightedly.

“Sounds perfect.” You whispered back, and leaned against his shoulder.

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