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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 day ago

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This was beautiful. Hot and beautiful.

Game's Night

Pairing: Dary Dixon x Redaer

Summary:

In Alexandria, bedtime gets competitive when thin walls and loud neighbors spark a challenge Daryl and his partner can’t resist. What begins as playful banter turns into a full-blown, no-holds-barred contest for the title of Loudest Couple in the Safe Zone. Between aching muscles, smug remarks, and Dog’s betrayed groans, one thing’s clear by morning: the scoreboard isn’t even close.

Genre: Fluffy fluff fluff / established relationship / Daryl and reader bantering like an old married couple / eventual smut.

Warnings:

Explicit sexual content (18+), graphic smut, light dominance, praise kink?, playful sexual teasing, strong language, domestic fluff, aftercare?, mention of other characters’ sexual activity, minor injury (Daryl’s shoulder), Dog is unfortunately present but emotionally resilient.

Era: post Saviour's War, pre-bridge

Author's note: Based on this idea by @dixondisease. Never written smut before but i've definetly read enough to like know what I am doing or at least i think i do anyway. This turned out to be wayy longer than i intented - i even had to put it in the smaller font hehe - so good luck finishing 💀. And before anyone bitches i know Dog isnt technically born yet but i wanted dog in this so shove it 🤭. This is just smut and fluff, very shameless. Enjoy 🙈

You closed the bathroom door with your hip, freshly brushed teeth still tingling, one hand dragging through your damp hair, the other tugging an oversized shirt down over your thighs. “You better not be getting crumbs in the bed again,” you mumbled through leftover toothpaste, the minty foam threatening to escape the corner of your mouth.

“Weren’t me,” Daryl called from the bed, already half-lounging, shirt open, one sock hanging on for dear life. He winced as he twisted to rub his shoulder.

You caught the motion immediately. “Mmm. Blame the dog all you want, but you were the one housing Carol’s cookies like you were in a hostage situation.”

He gave a soft, amused snort. “Least I ain’t the one leavin’ bobby pins in the sheets. Thought I got stabbed in the back last night.”

“Sounds like karma,” you said sweetly, coming to stand over him. “Karma for banning Dog from the bed when he’s clearly my emotional support animal.”

Dog, curled at the foot of the bed, lifted his head at his name and thumped his tail like he knew exactly which side he was on.

Daryl gave him a look. “He’s half a damn mattress. You’re the one always sayin’ you got no room.”

You crouched beside the bed, rummaging through a worn canvas bag until you found the tin Carol gave you. “Yeah, well, between him hogging the the bed and you flailing around like you’re in a bar fight with your dreams, it’s a miracle I get any sleep.”

You straightened and held the salve up. “And don’t even try that ‘I’m fine’ crap. I saw you breaking a sweat brushing your teeth earlier. Shirt off. Now.”

Daryl blinked at you. “Is this part where I get lucky, or the part where you put me in traction?”

“Both, if you play your cards right.”

He huffed and peeled the shirt off slowly. You stepped in and helped him when he winced, hands gentle but firm. The bruise was nasty, blooming purple over his shoulder.

You climbed up behind him on the bed, legs crossed, and dipped your fingers into the salve. The minty scent hit your nose first, sharp and clean. You worked it into the sore muscle, slow and steady. Daryl hissed, eyes slipping shut. “Told ya. Baby,” you teased.

“mkay this ain’t half bad”, he groaned, enjoying your touch.

You snorted. “That's right? Gonna start fake injuries now?”

He cracked one eye open. “Not if it means more of your talkin’.”

You softened, brushing your fingers gently over the angry bruise. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Only like me now?”

“I’m reserving love for when you stop dragging half the forest into the house with your boots.”

“That was one time. And it was your damn dog.”

“Blame the baby. Classic deflection.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple as you finished rubbing in the salve. “There. all better. Now maybe you’ll stop sighin’ every time you roll over like you just filed taxes.”

“I don’t sigh,” he muttered.

"You do. Like a single father of two, workin’ double shifts.”

That got his attention. He turned toward you, as gracefully as his bum shoulder allowed, and gave you a flat look. “What?”

He glanced down at your stomach and back up at you again. “You got somethin’ to tell me?”

“…Oh right, yeah. I totally forgot to mention that I’m pregnant with twins and planning on leaving you for a guy who runs a gas station so you can raise little Daisy and Cameron in a shack by the river. Surprise.”

He squinted at you, deadpan. “The hell is wrong with you… A gas station?”

“Real fancy too. Slushie machine and everything.”

He tried to give you his signature scowl but couldnt help cracking a smile “Jesus woman-“

You raised an accusatory finger, ready to burst out laughing, “Wait, wait, hold up, you actually believed me there for a sec, didn't you?”

He huffed and reached to wipe your mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, well… you got toothpaste on your face, smartass. Ye done runnin’ yur mouth now? M’ tired.”

“Get in before Dog steals your spot.”

Daryl groaned as he eased under the covers, joints popping like bubble wrap. “If I throw my back out tryin’ to lie down, it’s your fault,” he muttered, pointing a finger at Dog who’d circled the bed twice and then parked himself at the very edge—smug, territorial, already snoring.

“You hear that?” Daryl told him. “No respect. Not from either of ya.”

“I respect you just fine,” you said, settling in beside him. “But only one of you farts under the covers.”

“Alrigh’, stop. Don’t gotta put up with this shit in ma own bed.”

You giggled. The room went still, soft and sleepy. He pulled you into him, arm curling tight around your waist, his nose brushing the curve of your neck.

“Better?”

“Much,” he murmured.

Perfect. Until the ceiling creaked. Loud.

You both froze.

Another noise followed. Rhythmic. Familiar.

“…Is that Michonne?” you whispered.

“And Rick,” Daryl muttered, glaring at the ceiling.

You blinked. “They are not—”

“Oh, they are.”

A beat of silence.

Then you grinned. “Wanna be louder?”

He groaned. “We’re not doin’ that.”

“Why?’ you teased, tuning your body to face him and leaning on your elbows to hover your face over his. “Scared you’ll lose?”

“I ain’t racin’ Rick.” He paused, deadpan. “Man sounds like he’s wrestlin’ a hog.”

You choked on a laugh. “Then prove it.” Oh god, he thought. You already had your crazy sex eyes on.

“You really wanna start that righ’ now?”

“Only if you’re gonna finish it.” You moved on top of him, straddling his torso, trying to read his expression for any sign of dismissal. You didn't find any. His hands flew to your waist like a reflex.

“You’re a damn menace.”

“And you’re stalling,” you hushed, brushing your lips against his

“Ain’t gonna be no damn competition,” he muttered. “Ain’t even gonna be close.”

Then his mouth was on yours.

It was the kind of kiss that knocked thoughts loose—hungry, open-mouthed, all tongue and teeth. You didn’t remember moving, didn’t realise your hips were grinding down on him until you felt the solid heat under you and his fingers dug into your waist.

“Jesus,” he groaned, voice ragged against your lips. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

You didn’t answer—just kissed him harder, messier, hands sliding up his chest to push him further into the mattress. He didn’t resist. He wouldn’t dare. Not with the way you were moving like you’d catch fire if you stopped.

His grip tightened as he bucked up against you, mouth dragging hot down your jaw. “Ain’t even been a minute and you’re already—”

“Yeah?” you gasped, rocking down with more purpose now, chasing friction. “You got a problem with that?”

“Hell no,” he growled, sliding one hand up under your shirt. “Just tryna keep up, woman—”

“Good,” you breathed, grinding harder now, needing more. “Then don’t fall behind.”

And just like that, the game was on.

He sat up to be parallel with you. His hands moved along your bare back from under your shirt, all while you moved deliciously against his crotch, your faces pressed together, lips moving in sync, and tongues crashing like tidal waves. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth pathetically.

He moved to take off his your shirt, and in one swift, powerful motion, he tore the flannel open, sending the buttons flying. Like a drowning man, he latched onto your bare chest as if it were his sole air supply.

“Christ Daryl…” you breathed, tilting back, enjoying the feeling of his hot mouth on your breasts. Well, more specifically, your rock-hard nipples. He leaned into his sloppy kisses, lowering you to your back while he climbed on top of you. Gradually, he moved lower and lower down your abdomen, making you so dizzy that the banging of the headboard upstairs was indistinguishable from your racing heart. Before you knew it, your underwear was gone, and its place was Daryl’s hand. Needless to say, you much preferred his hand there instead of your underwear.

His he moved up to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers rubbing your clit. Was this what hypnosis was like? He could tell you to do damn near anything and you would bark yes if it meant he wouldnt stop.

Your body had a mind of its own, grinding against his hand as you clawed at his boxers.

The short gruffs and ragged breathing in your ear sent electricity down your body and straight to where Daryl was apparently trying to summon a genie. You felt the heat pool there as the butterflies in your stomach failed to settle. It only made you even wetter. If you weren't so mind-numbingly turned on right now, you would shield yourself from the embarrassment that down there was like a Slip n’ Slide.

“You done makin’ a mess or you gonna keep humpin’ my hand like your tryna start a fire?”

Ugh, smug douchebag. You can practially see the stupid cocky face he has on now. It took a few tries, the breathe kept logdng in your throat as whimpers escaped your mouth, until you finally retorted. “oh screw you asshole.”

“Asshole, huh? Must be doin’ somethin’ right.” That earned a frustrated groan from you. Right now, you are sitting between cloud nine and hell with this teasing. You shoved his boxers down and wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in his place. “Either you fuck me now or im going upstairs to join Rick and Michonne.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Lining himself up, he plunged into you without any warning. You couldn't breathe. Your body went limp with the feeling of him. You gasped for air as your body drank him in. God, he felt like he was up in your stomach.

“shit baby…” he groaned. It took everything in him not to completely lose it a drill into you right there, but he knew you needed a second to get used to the stretching feeling.

“Daryl…. “ you squealed a moment later. Oblivious to him, if he didnt move within the next 5 seconds you woud just about combust. “please move”

It was practically spoken as a cry, your face scrunching up in need. He pressed his mouth to yours not a second later while he did what you asked, setting a steady pace, one that had you clawing at his back, his ass, his arms, hell, anything to ground you in the overwhelming pleasure he was spoon feeding you with a ladle. But you needed more. He needed to pick up the pace like you both wanted him to, or else you really were going to impale him with bobby pins.

“Ain’t even gonna be close,’ huh?” you bit out, breathless and flushed. “Then why the hell are we still playin’?”

Daryl just smirked, hand dragging slowly over the curve of your hip like he had all the time in the world. “‘Cause I like hearin’ you talk tough,” he rasped. “Makes it real sweet when I shut you up.”

“You talk big, Dixon,” you growled, rocking down against him. “Now back it up.”

His hands flexed around your hip, yanking, moving you down to meet his thrust, causing you to yelp at the sensation. “You sure?” he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet yours, dark and hot. “‘Cause once I start, ain’t lettin’ you off easy.”

You glared, chest heaving. “Good. I don’t want easy.”

That did it. He moved his hand to your thigh and stretched it up to hook with his (good) shoulder, so you were completely sandwiched under him. The taster for what’s to come was one long, deep drag of his hips, which just about made your brain short-circuit. He chuckled at the fucked-out look on your face, “That mouth of yours’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“You promise?” you whispered, nails digging into his back. It didn't even sound like you when you said it, and yet you meant it.

He huffed a laugh against your throat. “You’re about to wish I was still stallin’.”

His hips began to pound into you, making you bounce with each unforgiving thrust. Your hair would be just short of a birds nest in the morning but all you could think about was daryls dick smacking into your pussy and making you feel like you had taken every recreational drug known to man.

“Fuck! Yes baby! Ohhh-“ The only way you could match the screams of pleasure that were coming from you was because after that, Daryl started muttering words of praise into your ears about how loud you were being. That’s great, buddy, just keep doing your thing, and ill gladly show this community the set of lungs I have on me.

The power with which he moved in and out of you, of course, had the headboard slamming against the wall so hard that Drayl would probably need to find some drywall tomorrow. The gross noises that your bodies made when joining together would have sounded like angels singing to you if it weren't for the noise of the headboard drowning it out… or your moans.

He dipped his head low, lips brushing your ear as your moan spilt out sharp and shameless.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, voice thick with approval. “Let ‘em hear it, baby. Let ‘em know who’s really winnin’ this little contest.”

You clenched around him. God, you were so not gonna last. You would have cringed from embarrassment, but all of your dignity had vacated your body when you started squirming like a fish out of water.

Daryl let out a groan in response, peering down at your chest to see your breast jiggle up and down from his movements. “Atta girl. Let 'em know who’s giving it to ye this good.”

You’d be lying if his words didn’t turn into mush, but who were you to take this lying down?

“Maybe I’m just fakin’ it so i dont hurt your ego—oh, GOD— Daryl right there!”

He delivered a particularly brutal thrust to the spot he knew would send you over the edge. His pace was relentless, like he fucking hated you. But that was far from the truth. The waves of pleasure he was single-handedly serving you said I love you better than any Valentine's note you had ever received in your opinion. The fricton between his pubic bone and your clit while he jammed himself into you repeatedly was a nice touch - to put it mildly.

“shit, shit, shit, baby your gonna make cum-“ it was so hard to speak full coherent sentences when he fucked you like this. The air from your lungs kept getting ejected every time he pounded into your cunt.

“That right?” Shit, you thought, he's using that voice he does when he speaks to judith. I'm done for. “Gonna come round this cock? Go ahead, baby, I gotcha”

“Ohhh fuck baby im cumming im cumming I’m- AH!”

Everything went white as every nerve in your body contorted with pleasure. It spread like a Mexican wave, starting from your lower abdomen and travelling all the way to your toes. The only thing reminding you that you hadn’t died and gone to heaven was Daryl’s erratic thrusts, which didn't falter; if anything, they sped up if that was even possible. He was chasing his own high. There were many things that turned you on in the world, but this was at the top of that list. Him going feral, using your body to guide him over the egde, hips stuttering and dick twitching inside of you. God, this was top-quality fuel for wet dreams.

He let out a few strangled moans before he came inside you, the feeling of him spilling inside of you made you grin with content, sighing like you were on a spa retreat. Except this retreat wasnt so much relaxing as it it was fucking mindblowing and would definitly reult in you walking funny.

His movements slowed, now just a soft rolling of his hips. You didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay like this forever. You were still breathless beneath him, and your heart was trying to remember how to beat in a rhythm that wasn’t wild. The weight of his body anchored you in place like gravity had finally done its job right.

Daryl was sprawled over you, chest heaving, forearm braced beside your head, trying not to crush you with the full weight of him, not that you minded. His skin was flushed and slick against yours, sweat cooling in the hollow between your breasts where his lips had been minutes ago.

He shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at you. Your skin was dewy, and you sported that after-sex glow that drove Daryl crazy. His hair hung down in damp, dishevelled strands, clinging to his temples. His eyes were heavy-lidded but alert, scanning your face.

“…You okay?” he asked, voice rough and warm, moving your hair from your face.

You couldn’t quite speak yet, so you gave a nod and a dopey smile. “Legs are noodles. Brain’s soup. So yeah. M’ great.”

That earned you the tiniest smirk, soft and crooked. “Good.”

His nose brushed yours before he leaned in to kiss you, slow and sweet this time. Nothing rushed. No competition. Just him, kissing you like he had all the time in the world. You melted into the kiss, humming contentedly, arms looping around his neck as he hugged you impossibly closer like you could disappear any second.

And above you, the ceiling had gone still. No more creaks. No more rhythmic thuds. No more Rick and Michonne ‘wrestling’ as they liked to call it.

You pulled back from the kiss with a dazed laugh. “Oh my god. They’re quiet now.”

Daryl blinked, then turned his head lazily to glare up at the ceiling like it had betrayed him. “Told ya. Ain’t even a contest.”

You giggled beneath him, threading your fingers through his hair. “Bet they heard us and got embarrassed.”

He huffed and rolled over you slowly, careful of your limbs as he settled at your side, immediately pulling you with him so you were nuzzled into his chest. You let him, splaying over him like it was instinct. His body was warm and solid and safe, the aftershocks of everything still tingling across your skin.

“I think I died for a minute,” you mumbled into his collarbone.

He chuckled against your hair. “Nah. Just blacked out. You’ll live.”

You swatted at him weakly. “Don’t be smug.”

“Too late,” he drawled. Then, quieter, brushing a thumb along your hip: “You’re real loud when you want somethin’.”

You grinned against his skin, your cheeks still flushed. “So are you.”

There was a moment of silence before you added, “Kinda proud of us.”

Daryl raised a brow. “Think we scared ‘em off?”

“Hell yeah, we did.”

You raised your arm in the air to gesture a fistbump, which he chuckled at, but nonetheless accepted. “Atta girl.”

You let out a happy sigh, his hand settling on your back again, moving slowly. Comforting. Claiming. Gentle in a way that made your heart grow a little.

From somewhere at the foot of the bed, Dog gave a low groan — the kind that sounded both scandalised and mildly betrayed.

You lifted your head, breath still uneven. “Oh Jesus, Dog, I’m so sorry—”

He was glaring. Or as much as a dog could glare. Ears flat, eyes narrowed, the judgment rolling off him in waves.

Daryl glanced down at him and snorted. “Don’t give me that look. You knew what this was.”

You buried your face in Daryl’s shoulder, laughing. “He’s mad ‘cause he’s not the favourite anymore.”

Daryl scoffed. “Was I even the favourite to begin with?”

You hummed, still grinning. “Don’t worry, baby. You’re both my good boys.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow, his voice low and smug. “Only one of us had you seein’ stars.”

You pulled back just far enough to give him a look. “Only one of you drools in his sleep.”

Daryl blinked, then smirked. “Says the woman who talks in her sleep.”

Your mouth dropped open in mock horror. “I do not.”

He shrugged, smug. “ I got woken up last week by you mutterin’ somethin’ about a peanut butter apocalypse.”

You chuckled, and Dog, ever the drama queen, flopped down with a heavy sigh, clearly done with both of you.

Daryl brushed your damp hair from your cheek, his thumb lingering at your jaw. “You alright?” he asked softly.

“Mhmm.” You leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time. “Better than alright.”

_______________________________________________________________

You sat at the table like someone recovering from a war injury. Every muscle in your body ached — wonderfully so, but they still hurt like a bitch — and breakfast was the last thing on your mind. Beside you, Daryl was the picture of serenity, casually sipping coffee like he hadn’t just destroyed your back six hours ago.

Rick gave you both a look. The kind that said he’d rather be literally anywhere else. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, poking at his eggs like they’d betrayed him. “Y’all don’t even try to be subtle, do you?”

“Didn’t know we had an audience,” Daryl said, not looking up from his mug.

Michonne arched a brow, clearly amused. “You didn’t need one. The walls are thin, Dixon. Thin.”

You winced and nursed your coffee like it could fix your dignity. You gave Daryl a knowing look and smirked, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t apologise,” Michonne said, smirking. “Just… damn.”

Rick looked between the two of you again, brow furrowed. “That wasn’t a competition, right? Like — there was no actual scoreboard?”

You glanced sideways at Daryl, trying to hide your grin. “What do you think?”

Daryl gave a faint smirk, eyes fixed on his plate. “Told you it wasn’t gonna be close.”

God damn, you could go for round 5 right here on thid counter.

Rick groaned. “Oh, come on.”

Michonne laughed into her coffee. “That’s it. I’m sleeping on the couch from now on.”

From the hallway, Carl appeared, bleary-eyed and deeply unimpressed. “Why are you guys being weird?” he asked, grabbing a slice of toast.

Rick straightened. “We’re just having breakfast. Sit down.”

Carl shook his head. “Not today. Not when the house sounds like a zoo at night. I’m taking this to my room. And since when did we bring back rules from the old world?”

He walked off without waiting for a reply.

You, Daryl, Rick and Michonne all burst out laughing.

You leaned into Daryl’s shoulder and murmured just loud enough for him to hear, “Guess we won the gold, huh?”

He didn’t answer — just rested his hand on your thigh under the table and squeezed, smug as hell.

#fic recs #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 2 days ago

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Guardian Angel

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When Pamela Milton makes the big mistake to threaten Daryl and his family, the archer isn't afraid of protecting what's his - at all costs.

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, violence, blood, choking, injuries, threatening a baby, attempted murder & murder, mentions of birthing a baby, protective dad!Daryl, fluff & babies!

Set in Season 11!

Word Count: 3,4k

a/n: I wrote this for @dixonsstinkysock , 'cause she was so excited about dad!Daryl, hehe. Thank you for the inspiration! I LOVED writing this! Hope you like it, too.

Disclaimer: Some words of the interaction between Carol and Daryl aren't mine. I just used them to fit the plot.

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

A father... He got blessed with becoming a father. Never ever - not even in his wildest dreams would've Daryl thought that the end of the world was going to bring this his way. Never. And yet here he was. It was incredible and borderline unbelievable. The archer would've scoffed and laughed into everybody's face who told him that in the beginning of this shit show.

Daryl buttoned up the fresh black grayish shirt he was just forced to slip into. Kudos to the tiny bundle of joy who had gotten to see the light of the world only a mere week ago and decided to 'burp' milk all over his shoulder. Daryl forgot to use a burp cloth; still adjusting to this whole new situation.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, as deft fingers worked the buttons.

The archer's heart was close to exploding with all the love he felt for you and his baby girl.

"What got you smiling so cute?"

Your sudden remark catapulted Daryl out of his thoughts. He finished the last button on the shirt, then lifted his head properly. His eyes met your frame; standing in the doorway - and it was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were wearing one of his sweaters, sweatpants and fluffy socks. Clothes who did not tick many boxes besides being absolutely comfortable. Comfort was all you cared about at the moment - understandably. Besides the easy access to your daughter's food source, of course. Speaking of her... She was neatly tucked against your body to provide body warmth; hands cradling her bum and head. Eyes closed and most likely sleeping; milk drunk and satisfied.

He merely shook his head; still smiling. "Nothin'. Jus'..." Daryl crossed the short distance between you and him. One hand gripped your hip gently, the other cupped your cheek. "...this. You. Our daughter." His oceanic blues gazed into your Y/E/C ones. "Ain't never been happier in my life, I think." Daryl's words caused you to smile as well. Turning your head slightly, you kissed his palm. "Me too. Even more now since we go back home." He nodded in agreement, "Yeah. 'S gon be perfect." and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against your forehead. His goatee tickling your skin.

"I love you, Dar."

Although he heard you say it about a million times by now, his heart never failed to skip a beat. "I love ya, too, sunshine." His eyes flickered to the newborn in your arms. "Both 'a ya." You smiled; eyes speaking the language of pure, unbridled love.

"'M gonna go check if the others are ready. 'N I gotta get my bike, too," the archer said; thumbs caressing your soft, delicate skin. You nodded. "Sure, go. I'll get everything ready here. Could you send Jude and RJ over? They have to check their room again and make sure they got everything." "'M gonna send the kids over, yeah, but you, darlin', ain't gonna do anythin' besides movin' yer cute ass over to the sofa 'n lay down."

A last loving look was exchanged before he grabbed his angel-winged vest, slipped inside the signature piece of clothing and left.

You wanted to open your mouth and say something in protest but Daryl was quick to leapfrog you. "Nah. No buts. Yer gonna rest. Yer body is still recoverin' 'n we got a long way home." You sighed, but nodded; knowing that arguing wouldn't get you further. Plus, you couldn't deny that your partner was actually right.

"Okay, yeah. I'm gonna lay down." Daryl smiled, "Good girl." and dipped his head to bestow a soft kiss on your lips before he let go of you. His thumb brushed over one tiny foot of his daughter; safely confined by the romper she was wearing. "I won't be long," he promised; marveling at the baby's smallness. You watched Daryl with yet another smile. How his eyes stuck on the tiny girl. His gentle touch. "Yeah, I know."

He had managed to make it a one on one; killing one of the men. The clearly weaker fighter. The other one was stronger and harder to defeat. One moment of negligence was enough to get into a predicament. That was the moment the guy became a problem. He gained the upper hand and had the archer now pinned to the concrete floor; choking him. Daryl tried hard to fight it. He couldn't and wouldn't die. He had a family to look after now. To protect. To provide for. You and his newborn daughter.

Little did the archer know that he was going to fight for his life only a few minutes later...

He had reached the meeting point; carriage completely abandoned and messy. Wooden boxes laid on the ground with their content mostly destroyed and distributed on the ground. No Maggie. No Hershel. No Jude or RJ. Nobody. Daryl frowned, kicked down the pedestal of his bike to park it and immediately started to analyze the scene; quite confused. The traces led him into the warehouse behind the scene, but he didn't have the time to 'investigate' any further. Two men sneaked up on him - the perfect ambush. Before Daryl could even blink, he found himself in a fight again. Two against one - not even remotely fair, but not really a problem for the experienced fighter. Yet.

"They got the kids, Maggie," Daryl panted and breathed hard to get air back into his lungs. His eyes met the ones of his best friend; showing his gratitude. "They got everyone," Carol stated. Daryl's eyes widened to the size of plates as the meaning of his friend's words hit him like a truck. If Pamela's men tried to abduct everyone of the group, it meant... "Y/N..." Daryl gasped. "Fuck. I gotta go. I gotta check on 'em." Carol nodded in understanding. "Go, but be careful, yeah? Don't act headless. I know you." Daryl merely nodded; already halfway disappearing around the corner. Carol looked after him with a worried look. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea to split up.

No, he wasn't going to die. Not today. Not here. Not now. And certainly not because of this asshole.

Help was just around the corner, though. Carol, who apparently had the same thought as him, appeared behind the men and used a slat to hit the prick on the head who was currently choking her best friend. Daryl got quickly up and grabbed his knife - just in time to watch the man he killed take a bite out of his former colleague. It was an easy task to get rid of the threat then; driving his weapon through both men's skulls.

Daryl more or less ran back to the house in which he shared an apartment with you. He hurried up the steps as fast as his legs carried him - only to find the door slightly ajar. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage; almost bursting at the sight. He already feared the worst, but then the signature cries of his baby urged to his ears. Without hesitation, he stormed inside.

The scene he walked into made his blood boil. The apartment was messy; signaling the archer that you had clearly been involved in a fight as well. His eyes frantically searched for you. It didn't take him long to do so... A man had pinned you to the wall beside the sofa and crib. One hand firmly around your throat, the other trying to reach for the tiny girl in the grip; attempting to cover her mouth to keep her cries muffled. Wheezing breaths left your lips as you tried to stay conscious. Your hands wrapped around the man's wrist as he choked you; scratching and pulling. Your legs kicked repeatedly against the shins of the man, but all of it wasn't quite helping. Usually, you had no problem to fight a man - or more. Daryl had taught you very well, but right now you didn't stand a chance. Not after birthing a baby only a few days ago. Your body was still recovering and not strong enough for a fight.

Daryl balled his hands to fists; jaw clenching. The primitive urge to protect his woman and child stronger than ever before. He was about to absolutely lose it and run over to fight the man who hurt his family - but then your eyes flickered up and landed coincidentally on your partner. Out of instinct, your eyes widened and you started to wriggle even more against your opponent's death grip - a mistake. Your understandable but obvious behavior blew Daryl's cover; took him the advantage of going unnoticed away.

The intruder noticed, of course and looked over his shoulder to witness the archer on the verge of storming over. Unfortunately wasn't the man stupid. He let quickly go of you; carelessly, and took a step to the left - towards the crib with his hands hovering about the crying infant inside. "One step closer and the baby dies!" The man yelled, causing Daryl to literally freeze in his movements. The archer threw him a death glare; heart racing in his chest. Fear and anger pumped adrenaline through his whole system.

"Touch 'er 'n I kill ya," Daryl growled through gritted teeth. "Try me," spat the man in return. The tension was thick; cuttable with a knife.

You sat on the floor; body slumped against the wall. Your strength was running so low that you weren't even able to keep yourself on your feet. Especially not after being halfway choked to death. You barely registered the conversation and stare contest between your attacker and partner since your body was too occupied in getting air back inside your lungs. You coughed; breathing hard and unsteady. It broke Daryl's heart to see you like that... In pain and suffering. He wanted to hurry over to you. Help you. Make sure you were okay, but he couldn't risk it. He'd never forgive himself if this innocent, tiny life got hurt because of him.

Your body may have been weak, but your motherly instincts strong. The cries of your baby - cries of helplessness and discomfort sent you into a frenzy. "P-Please, don't, please..." You stammered out; tears gathering in your eyes. "T-That's my baby, p-please!" You were begging the man, while trying to heave your exhausted body closer to the crib. But he didn't have any of it. "Stay where you are! Nobody moves, or...!" He put his hands dangerously close to the tiny girl's neck. Both, you and Daryl knew that it wouldn't take much. She was barely a week old; still so tiny and fragile.

He had unlocked the animal inside of the archer with threatening his baby and its mother, and was now paying the price. With his life.

Daryl's brain worked feverishly to find a way to get both his girls safely out of the situation, while you kept whispering 'Please' over and over again like prayer.

"Whaddaya want?! Where did ya take the others?!" The archer started to indulge the man in a conversation; hoping to distract him enough to get his knife out of its sheath unnoticed. "Freeing the Commonwealth of a plague," the man hissed. Daryl shook his head; hand working subtle and precisely. "Ya didn't answer my question, ya prick. Where are the others?" "I don't know, scum! And I frankly don't ca- Ahhh!" A painful yelp slipped past the man's lips as he was forced to cut off his own sentence. Daryl's plan had been a success. He had freed his knife, took the risk - he had to, and threw said knife which was now plunged in the man's shoulder. It caused him to stumble a few steps back - away from the crib and the newborn inside. That was Daryl's start signal. He lunged forward to literally tackle the intruder to the ground. From that moment on, everything happened so fast. Fists colliding with skin and bones, until they were bloody and went to wrap around the throat. The man underneath Daryl was struggling and desperately trying to shove him off and away from him, but it was no use. Daryl was too strong; too dominant.

His heart clenched.

"Told ya I was gonna kill ya, prick," Daryl growled, pulled his knife out of the man's shoulder to pierce his skull with it instead, before he crawled off of the lifeless body. He quickly wiped his bloodied knuckles on his shirt and lifted himself off the ground to tend to his still crying baby. His fatherly instincts kicking into overdrive.

Daryl approached the crib; hovering over the wooden furniture. The tiny girl inside was wriggling around in her warm confines like crazy. Cheeks stained with tears and red from all the crying.

"Hey, lil' angel, dun cry," he whispered hoarsely yet gently and reached carefully inside to cradle the miniature human in his big hands. "Sh, sh, sh, 's all good. Daddy got ya, sweetpea." He lifted her up to lay her into the crook of his arm to provide some body contact and warmth in an attempt to calm her down. His pointer finger softly traced her cheeks and the small hands which were closed to fists with the even smaller fingers attached.

Once your breathing got even and regular again, one hand reached out to cover Daryl's - which was cupping the newborn's bottom to keep her safely tucked in his arm. You looked up; eyes meeting your partner's - and he knew. He saw the longing in your eyes. The urge. The need to hold your daughter. So, without a word, the archer maneuvered the baby girl cautiously in your arms. She protested at the short loss of warmth with a whine, but once she felt that her mama was close, the world was perfectly alright again. You buried your nose in the baby's tufts of chestnut brown hair; deeply inhaling her scent and pressing your lips repeatedly against the utter softness.

At her father's words, touch and comfort, the little girl calmed down. Her cries got quieter and quieter, until they faded into soft coos.

"S-She okay?" Your broken, shaky voice urged to his ears and he instantly looked up to face you. You were still sitting on the floor; wiping away some stray tears and trying to get a grip and grasp what just happened. Daryl hadn't forgotten about you. Of course not! He just thought it would be best to tend to his crying infant first. He nodded; eyes thoroughly scanning the baby's body again. "All good. She's fine, sunshine." A relieved breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lips.

The archer stepped over and sat down on the floor beside you; back propped against the wall. He opened his arm for you. "C'mere. Gotta make sure my woman is a'right as well." You didn't let yourself tell that twice. You slid closer - into Daryl's awaiting arm and cuddled against his side. His closeness (and your baby) being all you needed right now. He instantly tightened his grip around you; chapped but gentle lips peppering your forehead repeatedly with kisses. "'S okay. 'M here. I got ya," your partner whispered as he tried to offer as much comfort and love as possible. "Ain't lettin' anythin' happen to my family." You were still in a state of shock, so you said nothing at all and just held on to Daryl. Closing your eyes, you relished in his touch and inhaled his natural scent. Leather, smoke, something earthy and musky, and a touch of blood and sweat.

She was okay and safely back in your arms.

Daryl adjusted his position; was now seated behind you. His back against the wall, your back against his chest as you sat between his open legs. Strong arms pulled you protectively closer; tucking you neatly against his front.

"Ya okay, darlin'?" He muttered softly, as his thumbs started to rub soothing circles into the clothed skin of your sides. You nodded. Merely, but you nodded. The shock was the worst - besides the still lingering pain around your neck and throat. Daryl's eyes flickered over every visible body part of yours; making sure. They got stuck on your neck, of course, and saw the bruises forming already. He swallowed. Another wave of rage crushes into him. He was angry. Angry of Pamela for breaking the deal and kidnapping his friends and family. Angry of himself for not being here to help earlier. For letting this happen.

The archer's head dropped to your neck, where he peppered the bruised and hurting skin with gentle kisses. "'M sorry," he whispered. "'M so sorry. Shoulda been 'ere earlier. Then this wouldn't have happened. Fuck, should've never even left from the start..." His voice broke at the end; close to shedding tears.

You had listened to his every word. Your eyes watered as well. You shook your head and freed one hand from the now sleeping newborn in your arms to reach behind and cup Daryl's head; fingers buried in his curls. "It's not your fault, Dar. You couldn't know that this was going to happen..." "Dun care. Shoulda been here. 'S my job to protect the both 'a ya, 'n I failed. I dun even wanna know what would've happened if I didn't..." He trailed off and swallowed hard; unable to finish the sentence. It hurt too much. "Daryl..." You whispered his name and angled your head; lips brushing his stubbly cheek, then his lips. "Stop, baby. What happened happened. You can't change it. But we're alright, okay? We're here. We're alive - and whatever Pamela throws at us... We're gonna make it. We're gonna find the others and make it. Together. Like we always do."

Your heart sunk.

Daryl swallowed once more. You were right. He couldn't change the past, but the future. He swore to himself to protect you even better. And together you were going to make this. Like you always did. Starting over.

His lips searched and found yours; entangling them in a linger kiss filled with love and the promise to keep you and his baby safe - until the very last breath he was going to take on this godforsaken planet. You melted into the kiss. It gave you the strength and confidence you needed. It always did. Daryl was the bright and shining light in this dark world. Always was, and he always would be.

Once you ended the kiss, Daryl started to shift then; gently squeezing your sides to urge you on to stand up as well. "C'mon, sunshine. We should go, 'n find Carol." You nodded and started to move as well; Daryl helping you stand up. After all, you had a cute, tiny creature tucked in your arms... "Carol managed to flee? Thank god..." The archer nodded and grabbed the most necessary backpack you had packed - filled with baby stuff. Diapers, bottles, fresh clothes, blankets and such things. "Yeah, 'm glad too, but I think nobody else beside us made it to escape."

"W-We gotta find them. Help them." Daryl threw the backpack over his shoulder and took the tiny girl from your arms in his so that you were able to slip in your 'outdoor' clothes with your weapons attached. "And we will, sunshine," he promised you and lastly helped you slip inside the baby carrier with one hand. "We'll find each other again. 'S what we do. 'S what we always did. Ain't nothin' in this world is gonna keep us apart for long." Daryl maneuvered the little girl into the carrier. You made sure that she was safely and securely strapped inside; luckily still sleeping. "We're gonna safe 'em and Alexandria."

A surge of hope and confidence swept over you at his words. You took your partner's hand; intertwining your fingers and gave his big hand a squeeze. You nodded, "Let's go." and smiled. Daryl dipped his head to bestow another kiss on your forehead then gave you a small smile in return, before he started to guide you out of the apartment. You had to find Carol, find out where the others had been taken and then get the hell out of this place.

One thing was certain... The archer was done playing games.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixonsdarkelf @dixons-sunshine @negansbestie @bigbaldheadname @ellasdixon @loz-3 @imadisneyprincessiswear @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn @belitoxx @marvelcasey05 @stitchintimefan @whore4romance @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @cakesandtom @sweetz1919

#fic recs #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #dad!daryl dixon

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