#daryl dixon hurt/comfort

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

You were doing your best to hide your face from him, but weren't being very successful. You mopped the tears from your cheeks again and hazarded an ashamed look in his direction. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you think of me right now," you said with a wry laugh. "I'm a mess... You're probably wondering how I even made it this far during a zombie apocalypse."

Daryl, leaning on the doorframe, shifted and straightened up. "No. I ain't thinkin' that. 'M thinkin' it makes perfect sense, ya needin' to get this all out, after what ya've been through."

You gave him a hesitant look through your glassy, red-rimmed eyes. "R—really?"

He nodded. "Mhm. Sometimes takin' back yer life is cryin' on the floor at 3 am 'cause everythin' from before still matters. S'okay. Yer doin' fine."

You managed to give him a weak smile. "Thanks. You're just so strong all the time. I can't imagine you doing this. Probably seems silly."

Daryl ducked his head. "Nah. I ain't strong all the time. Ya just ain't walked in on my breakdowns yet," he drawled seriously.

Your brow furrowed. "I see. Well, hey... After tonight, I owe you. If you ever need some company..."

He nodded. "You'll be the first to know."

Prompt: "Sometimes taking back your life is crying on the floor at 3 am because everything from before still matters. It's okay. You're doing fine."

[smutinlove]

Respectfully, I want him to **** ** **** * **** ****** and **** ** *** ***** *****. But respectfully, obviously. 🙄 And like one hug from him would solve my problems. But I also want him to **** **, respectfully.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

DAY TEN: Breakdown w/ Daryl Dixon

a/n: Oh my gosh I loved writing this one so much, like a reunion between the reader and Daryl was what immediately popped into my brain whenever I saw this prompt. So, strap in because this is gonna get very emotional :`]

masterlist | comfortember masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback

Daryl was gone. Your boyfriend was gone and now you were all alone in a war that you didn't even know if you were going to win. Not only were you forced to watch Glenn and Abraham's death, you had to be held back as Daryl was taken, thrown into the back of a van as you struggled against Negan's men. It felt like a sick love story as he was snatched away from you.

Now here you were mentally scarred as well as tired and angry. You don't remember the last time you had slept and when you did, you would usually cry yourself to sleep. You were an unstoppable force, making constant plans, impulsive, basically ignoring and pushing away your friends. No one could talk to you, no one could break down your walls that you had built up around yourself; if anyone were to ask about you, they would say that you weren't the same. There was no spark in your eyes, in your soul, the only thing fueling you was revenge and grief.

The one thing you hated was that you didn't know whether he was alive or not, and you were living as if you were already dead. You were with Rick, Michonne, Tara, Carl and Rosita, as your group had finally arrived a Hilltop. Seeing Maggie again with her short hair was strange, the remainder of it tucked under her jean hat. You watched from afar as Rick and her reconciled, your heart aching as you watched him apologize to her, and asking her how her baby was. You would have liked to been able to have little Dixon's running around one day, seeing as though Daryl was already serving as a wonderful uncle and protector to Judith.

You watched as two figures walked out from behind a wall, Rick standing aghast as he pulled away from Maggie's hold. You froze as you watched him embrace Daryl, your body stuck in place. Tara nudged you, signaling for you to make a move as you just stared. It felt like everything had finally hit you all at once as you felt people's gazes, practically all of them burning holes into you as your tears began to form. This was the first time in ages that you had finally felt something, felt an emotion that wasn't driven by hate.

"Daryl.." You whimpered out before taking off in a sprint. He met you with the same amount of speed before your bodies collided, despite the air being knocked out of your lungs at the impact, there were tears falling out of your eyes as you sobbed loudly. You were practically on the verge of wailing as you went limp in his arms, yours that were wrapped around his neck with an iron grip. You both fell to your knees as you remained in each other's embrace, Daryl shedding a few tears himself.

You allowed all of your pain that you had pushed deep down inside you to resurface, chest heaving as your lungs desperately gasped for air.

"Oh my Daryl.." You whispered. You pulled back from him so you could cup his face, examining the heavy eye bags his handsome face now adorned, the trembling in his jaw as he looked at you too. "I never thought I'd see you again, but you're alive." You said the last part with a watery smile, a disbelieving laugh managing to weasel itself out of your throat. "'M here." He rasped, dragging you back into him so that you can embrace once more.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

I'll Be Here

Pairing: Daryl x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the apocalypse started, you've had nightmares, and you've always dealt with it alone. But when Daryl finds you after having a nightmare, you realise you're not alone anymore.

Warnings: Slight mentions of blood and injuries.

A/N: Daryl and the reader are friends in this. Also, they're in Alexandria.

You jolted awake when you heard the faint sound of screaming. Your body was slick with sweat as you shot up in bed, breathing frantically. As you stared into the dark with wide eyes, flashes of your nightmare flickered through your mind.

All you could see was flesh being torn apart, your memories stained with blood. You concluded that it must've been your own screams that had woken you up. And you were tired of this now, tired of the constant nightmares. This world had broken you.

You almost jumped off your bed when your door creaked open slightly, but you managed to calm down a little when you spotted Daryl poking his head round the door. "Uh, hey...heard you screamin'."

"I'm fine." You insisted, wringing your hands together in your lap as you looked at him.

"You don't look fine."

You didn't say anything as he slowly moved further into the room, flipping the light on. And when you brought your hands up to sheild your eyes, you felt the tears coating your cheeks.

Daryl clearly noticed this because he came towards you, awkwardly sitting on the end of the bed. "You uh...you okay?"

You shrugged as you fumbled with your fingers in your lap. "Fine."

"(y/n)."

"It's fine, okay? I just...I have nightmares sometimes. It's nothing."

"You wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head at him, suddenly feeling sick as you remembered the graphic images you'd just seen.

"Okay." Daryl grumbled before getting up and flipping the light off, proceeding to sit down in the chair in the corner of the room.

"What're you doing?"

"You don't wanna talk? That's fine. But I don't wanna leave you on your own. So I'll be here."

You muttered a quiet "thank you" before laying back down and trying to close your eyes. But everytime you tried to drift back to sleep, images from your nightmare jolted through your mind, shocking you back into consciousness.

You were probably trying for at least an hour before you finally gave up. "Daryl? You awake?"

"Hm?" He grunted. "Yeah, what's up?"

"I can't sleep."

He didn't say anything then but you heard shuffling behind you before you felt the bed dip beside you. You rolled over and you were met with the sight of Daryl's back.

"Thank you." You smiled, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder before rolling back over.

You felt more at ease now as you felt your back brush against his as you laid there, closing your eyes. And as you drifted off to sleep, you finally felt safe.

[Main Masterlist] [Daryl Masterlist]

[ladywuvly]

♱ long before (s2!daryl dixon x green!f!reader)

summary|| As fate would have it, a devastating tragedy compelled your father to open up your front gates to a group of families seeking refuge from the new world. Amidst the unexpected turn of events, a certain individual with piercing blue eyes, a colorful vocabulary, and a rugged charm manages to capture your attention. However, as tensions rise and emotions become complicated, you're forced to confess your deepest desires. wc: 6.9k

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, semi-public, blood/violence + mentions of, swearing, size kink (if you squint), smut, fingering/handjob (f!m!receiving), unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (sp!t/squ!rt), praise, agegap, begging, breeding, cockwarming;

masterlist. socials. rec.

It wasn't every day there were new people at the farm, let alone living people. However, when your older sister's shrilling voice called for your father and the all too familiar smell of fresh blood came wafting through the front door, you knew the peaceful salvation of your childhood home was no longer hidden from the terrors of the new world. 

That had been weeks ago; before families were camped out under the shade of the oak trees in your front yard, before Otis had died, before you had met Rick, or before you had sat and comforted Lori as her son lay dying in the blood-stained sheets of your guest bedroom. 

Long before they'd found any evidence of Carol's little girl being anywhere nearby, and even longer before a certain blue-eyed, foul-mouthed, redneck had caught your attention. 

You'd heard him ride in with the rest of them. Watching him from behind the white, wooden column of the porch. Tanned, dirt and sweat-covered skin, dressed in a sleeveless button-up that exposed the toned muscles of his arms, which flexed as he flicked the kick-stand down and stepped off the motorbike. 

It didn't take long for you to make friends with the rest of the group. Although, no matter how often you tried making peace with the shaggy-haired man, he always seemed to push you further and further away. 

Perhaps he knew what you were trying to do. Like he'd somehow discovered your ploy. How you'd show up at his tent on the outskirts of the camp, dressed in those frilly little sun dresses, presenting him with something or another that always made his heart swell up in contentment. 

No matter how short he was with you, or how many times he told you it was 'nun of y'er business', he still couldn't help but feel unworthy as he watched you frolic your way towards his islet tent.

It wasn't until he had heard you one morning, from the other side of the bathroom door, that was when he knew he was fucked.

Carol had demanded he'd shower, it did no good to have him 'stinking up every place he went' as she had put it. He had scoffed before eventually agreeing a shower might actually do him some good.

A place where he could relax for a short time, stretch out his strained muscles in the lukewarm water as he cleared his head from the millions of thoughts he had since their arrival.

The water was already running and he was praying that whoever it was in there, wasn't using up the rest of the warm water. He was about ready to bang on the door and call out a harsh 'hurry up in there'. That was until he heard the sweet sound of your voice from inside, suddenly rendering him speechless.

"oh daryl..." All high pitched and slurred, in that sweet honey-coated tone filled with urgency and pleasure. He wanted to move, he truly did.

You were just a girl, maybe 8 or 9 years younger than him. You didn't know what you were doing, acting solely on desire and lust, still foolish and ignorant about the real world.

That is what he told himself, as he imagined what you must've looked like in the moment. Hand shoved between the milky plush of your thighs, the same ones he'd caught himself staring at more times than he'd like to admit.

Skin flushed under the warm water and steam of the shower, face displaying a consuming look of pleasure, as your orgasm coaxed little whimpers and whines out of your parted lips. "daryl, daryl, daryl..."

He couldn't stand there any longer after listening to you finish. Rushing through the front door and down the porch steps before hastily grabbing his crossbow and wandering off in hopes of finding anything to distract himself from the blasphemous image of you.

Little did he know that wasn't the first time you had touched yourself to the thought of him.

Earlier that morning you'd woken up from an erotic-filled sleep, slick and sticky, panties clinging to the dripping arousal of your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together hoping to provide enough friction to lazily get yourself off.

You huffed and turned over a few times before giving up. Throwing the covers off and exposing yourself to the nipping cold of your bedroom.

You walked towards the window, hoping that the sight of the barely rising sun, was excuse enough to crawl back under the covers and rest for a few more minutes, before having to get up to start your early morning chores. However, the sight below you caused a chill to run up your spine, as goosebumps littered your skin.

He stood below your window, the picnic bench in front of him occupied by his crossbow, and the remains of his catch for this morning's breakfast.

The way he so effortlessly worked on his kill; cleaning, gutting, and skinning whatever poor little forest critter so foolishly crossed his path.

The sight of his muscular arms, as they flexed and strained, was alluring compared to his gore-full actions, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand snuck under the hem of your short, floral nightie.

Resting a hand against the window-pane as your other slipped into your panties. Your fingers played with the wetness of your arousal, coating them in your slick as you eased them past your slippery lips and into your weeping entrance.

You moaned quietly, pulling them back out to rub circles against your swollen clit and then plunging them back into your aching cunt again. Repeating the action over and over again, as you ogled the man before you.

You imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on you, instead of your own. Bigger and rougher, the callused skin of his palms running along the softness of your waist and hips, as he'd rock you back and forth on the pads of his fingers.

Gripping his forearm for leverage as you quivered against him. The pure strength of his bicep, which you'd grip at to keep yourself from collapsing into a puddle of sweat and cum.

His warm breath fanning against your cheek and neck, as he encouraged you with those sweet little praises. "You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?...Come on, sweet girl don't you want to cum?"

Your walls tightened as you became painfully close to the edge. Your legs trembled, knees buckling as you held yourself up against the glass. Your orgasm was bliss, soaking your thighs and hand with your release, as you muffled a cry, biting your bottom lip in order to keep yourself quiet.

Coming back down from your high you quickly stepped away from the window shamefully. Your skin felt hot and sticky, and even after just getting yourself off, you wanted more, you needed more.

You decided a shower would be best, something relaxing and isolate where you could refresh yourself, before having to go about your day.

It had been a few hours and you were now seated by the burning embers from this morning's fire, helping put together whatever you could find to make some sort of breakfast for everyone before they all got to work for the day.

You spotted Daryl as he made his way out of your house and back towards the camp. His hair, a darker shade of brown, as fresh water droplets dripped down the recently cleaned skin of his neck.

God, what you would give for him to let you lick it up with the flick of your tongue.

You imagined what he'd smell like, what he tasted like. His scent, wouldn't be clouded with any fragrance that distracted from his natural musk. His skin, warm and inviting against the drag of your tongue. You could feel yourself getting wet at just the thought of him.

Quickly you grabbed a plate and made your way up across the grass, stopping in front of him as he was headed towards the RV. You watched him freeze, his eyes casted down and away from you, causing you to frown at his refusal to meet your gaze.

"Here, I know it's not much... but you should eat something."

You offered him the small plate, only for him to hum and shake his head. "'m fine." You were concerned at his refusal. He was not a man of many words, but that didn’t mean dismissing you like this altogether. He'd normally just take whatever it was you were offering him, before going back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Look... everyone's eaten and you know nobody's going to be seen harboring back for seconds, given our circumstances." You laughed it off in hopes of lightening the mood. Only when you looked back at him, did you notice the look of anger take over his features.

"No you look... I don't know what ya' think this is, but we're not 'ere ta' make no friends. Our only priority is findin' a way ta' get the hell off this farm, and whether or not I eat this piss-pour excuse of a breakfast, is gonna change that. Ya' hearin' me?"

His words caught you off guard. They were harsh and filled with hurt, and knowing that those around you had most likely turned to look at him, once the sound of his voice had risen, was humiliating.

It was mean and patronizing, and you were embarrassed that he'd thought he could talk to you like that. Like you were just some ignorant girl. Like someone who didn't really know what was actually going on.

It didn't take you very long to flee after that. You had almost scoffed at him before shoving the plate of food into his chest and brushing past his shoulder.

You weren't going to let everyone see just how much his words had gotten to you, so you lifted your head and walked with poise back towards your house.

Only once you'd made it into the solidarity of your kitchen did you let out the breath you were holding. Cursing at yourself for not seeing it sooner, by letting the way he made you feel cloud your judgment of who he really was, who he really thought you were.

In that moment you decided for yourself to just push down this stupid little crush and focus on what was important. Helping get these people back on their feet, so they could get a move on.

You consumed yourself with chores the next few days. Helping Lori with laundry, Carol with any cooking, and even offered Andrea a hand maintaining the few guns your father had let them keep, while helping protect the farm.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much you knew about such weapons, but you quickly reminded her how you'd grown up and where exactly you were raised. This only encouraged her to teasingly call you a 'hick', before asking if you wanted to go shooting with her and Shane the next time they went out. You told her you'd think about it before excusing yourself from the RV.

That night you sat with them beside the dying fire, and it didn't take long before you felt the heat of a lingering gaze on you. However, this one was dark and grim, greedy and predatory. Unlike the light, pastel blue eyes you were so familiar with.

These felt thieving, like they were just waiting watching for the chance to get you alone, secluded and out of the keen sight of others.

You felt it best to turn in for the night. Walking back towards the house you weren't scared, far from it, you knew this farm like the back of your hand and yet you still felt unease.

The snap of a twig behind you caused you to gasp, as you expected a walker to step out in front of you and bite your face clean off. However, the sight of Shane emerging from the shadows was strangely just as frightening. Those temperamental eyes that looked you up and down, caused you to wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself.

"Andrea tells me you're good with a gun. Real good..."

Nodding compliantly, hoping it would satisfy him to cut the conversation short and allow you to escape inside. Except your silence only made him pursue you even more.

"She's giving me more credit than I deserve. My father taught me how to shoot, that's all." You quickly remitted.

Shane wandered closer and you took a quick look back at the house, trying to estimate how many steps you would need to take in order to get back inside if need be.

"What is your deal then, hm?"

"My deal?"

"I just mean, I'm trynna figure you out."

"I guess there's just not much to figure."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I just want to know what makes a pretty young thing, such as yourself swoon so hard over that dirty old red-neck." You're shocked at the accuracy of his accusation.

"I think I'm tired, and it's getting late, and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight Shane."

"Now just wait a min-Everythin' alright?" Daryl suddenly emerged from behind you and you'd soon grown frustrated.

You hadn't seen nor spoken to him in the last few days yet, here he was showing up to save you like you were some damsel in distress.

Dragging a hand through your hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. You watched as Shane stepped closer to the both of you. "You got impeccable timing, you know that?"

"Hell's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothin' man, just getting to know our hosts a little better, that's all."

"Yeah? Well don't."

Scoffing at both of the men, drawing their attention back to you. "I'm not standing around here to watch a cock-fight. Both of you, just leave me the hell alone." You left them at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Wait a sec... Just stop!... I'm sorry!" You froze, halfway through the door frame.

Slowly, you turned around to find Daryl standing at the bottom of the stairs, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I was pissed, 'n took it out on ya'. Wasn't right."

"Carol make you come up here."

"Nah, feel bad... didn't mean to hurt ya'."

You were genuinely surprised that he'd come back to apologize all on his own. Looking away from him seemed to be the only way to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. You nodded and hoped it was enough to get him to retreat, but he didn't.

"Hey..."

He called, making you look up at him through your lashes.

"When I say m'sorry, I mean it."

You nodded again quickly. "I believe you."

It was now his turn to nod this time, as he drummed his thumb against the side of his leg. "Only... you owe me another apology."

"Hmm?"

"That breakfast... was not piss-poor… made that with love." You teased, leaning up against the door frame.

He stifled a laugh and kicked at the dirt in front of him. "M'sorry 'bout that too then."

You couldn't help but flash a warm smile at him while you watched him fidget before you. Stepping back onto the porch and descending the steps until you stood face-to-face with him at the bottom.

You gazed into his eyes and despite the slight height you got from the stair, you found yourself still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, as there was an indescribable emotion hidden within them.

Rather than trying to put it into words, you decided to thank him. Affectionately rising up onto your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Daryl."

Then with a smile, you made your way back up the stairs and towards the front door, as you finally entered the house.

You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning for hours before you eventually gave up on sleep altogether.

Once the sun began to rise you slipped on your boots and grabbed a sweater, hoping maybe an early morning walk could help you clear your thoughts.

They only really consisted of one thing, Daryl. Even though he apologized, that hadn't been the only time he'd been short with you. Sure, it was the first time he'd actually yelled at you.

You wondered why he had been so mean, what had made him snapping at you so early in the early morning, when you were just trying to be kind to him? What had happened that he was already pissed off about?

Coming up late last night when Shane had been trying to 'get to know you', and as much as he made you uncomfortable, why did Daryl feel the need to interrupt?

Did he secretly despise you that much that he had to ward off people from trying to befriend you? It confused you, how such a seemingly simple man suddenly became so complex.

You hadn't realized how far you had wandered until the sight of the old brick chimney came into view. You knew it was time to turn back when you'd somehow managed to subconsciously walk towards the one thing that was causing you so much troubled.

"What're ya' doin'?"

You gasped at the gruff sound of his voice. Turning around to see Daryl not too far from you. He looked well rested, like he'd just woken up.

"Couldn't sleep. Needed some time to think, figured a walk'd do me some good."

"So ya' wondered all the way out 'ere."

"I guess so."

He looked off from you, not having anything else to say, or maybe just not having the words. "Did I do something? I mean... to bother you or upset you in some way. I get it now that you're not one to make friends, but after you apologized… I just don't know what I did to deserve you making sure everyone stays clear of me."

"Like ya' talk with Shane was so friendly."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

There was a pause as you waited for Daryl to speak.

"I heard ya'..."

Your face scrunched in confusion and Daryl sighed. He'd hoped you'd understood what he was talking about without having to go into much detail about it.

"Sayin' my name..."

Your eyes widened and you flushed bright red in embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry, I thought the window was closed... I-"

"Window? Nah... in the shower..."

You became even more humiliated, not only by the fact that he had heard you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as you accidentally confessed how you'd done it more than just the once.

"Look y're a real pretty girl 'n all, but it just ain't right... With yer father lettin' us stay 'ere, it wouldn't be right."

"So you're saying if this wasn't the circumstance where we met, you'd take me to bed?"

"That ain't what I'm sayin'."

"Then what are you saying, Daryl?"

"That m'pushing 30 and y're barely 20..."

"21... 'n I'm not a child, Daryl. Not where it counts..."

"Shouldn't be sayin' that."

"Why? Why does it matter? We're both adults. There's not a soul in that house that would even give a damn. The world has ended, there are no laws, no morals to live by anymore. There's only wants and needs, and I don't want to be scared anymore... and I need you..."

You stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving his as you bravely confessed your feelings. "Tell me... Tell me that you don't need me."

You watched his pale blue eyes as he studied your face. It was as if he was almost trying to decide whether or not this was real, whether or not you were real.

"I can't... but I can't give you what you want either..."

"You can-No, I can't"

"What is it you think that I want?"

"Why me, huh?... What is it about me that you need?" He dismissed your question with one of his own.

"I see the way that you are... with Rick... with Carol. You want to protect us, I know that."

He tried to brush you off, turning around to distance himself from you, but you grabbed his arm, stepping ahead of him to stop him from walking away from you. "Don't run from me. I may not know what you were like before this, but I know who you are now. I know why you showed up last night..."

"Ya' don't know nothin' ." He spit out.

"I know you wanted to protect me. I know that's why you warded off Shane, and why you apologized. You might not know why, but I do. It's because you care. You care about me... and us, and this place, and you can pretend all you want like you don't, but you can't fool me, Daryl."

You hadn't let go of him and you reached out to grab his other hand. He flinched and tried to pull back from you, but you didn't let him. Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek as you looked up at him longingly.

"So stay with me... Tell me that you do need me... and don't let anyone take me away from you..." All he did was stare at you, his hand remained relaxed against your cheek.

You were about to drop it in defeat and sulk your way back to the house, but his hand flexed, fingers threading into your hair and pulling you closer to him. You closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. His breath was ragged and you were afraid he was going to pull back and leave you all alone.

He nudged the tip of your nose with his before tilting your head back and finally slotting his lips against your own. Leading closer into him, your grip on his arm tightened and you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. His hand still in your hair, pulled you into his needy mouth as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you firmly pressed up against him.

You put every last bit of your doubt into the kiss, hoping he'd take it all away from you. That he could somehow tell you that you were right without having to pull his lips away from yours.

His hands began to wander, gripping at you wherever he could. Brushing your hair over your shoulders, and pulling at the sleeves of your sweater to run his hands over the exposed skin of your back. Hooking your arm around his neck and kissing him fiercely as he leaned down into you.

You opened your mouth for him as his hands traveled down over your waist. He rocked you against him, pressing you into his hips causing you to gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection digging into your stomach.

His hands didn't stop, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake as he continued to caress as much of your skin as he could. He took a step forward and you stumbled for only a moment before he lifted you off of your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He led you both over to his camp, ripping open his partially zipped tent before ducking the both of you inside. You hadn't pulled your mouth from his neck, and when he finally set you on trembling legs you were able to see just how much damage you'd done to the heated skin.

He began stripping you of your sweater as you simultaneously worked on the buttons of his shirt, only you hesitated at the sight of the pronounced tainted skin on his chest. His shirt was pushed off his shoulders, hanging around his elbows allowing his arms minimal movement to clutch at your waist.

Your fingers traced over the scars causing him to flinch, reaching up to pull your hands from his body. He looked at your face, utterly surprised when it wasn't a look of disgust or pity gracing your soft features. Instead, a small smile and a look of admiration.

He let your hands slowly rest back against his heaving chest. Caressing your wrists as you went back to tracing the darkened skin. He closed his eyes when you'd touched a particularly deep one, shivering as fantom pain shot across his shoulder.

You froze and he opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him worriedly. He hummed and leaned closer, nudging his nose against the side of yours before kissing you softly. "S'okay... don't hurt."

You nodded, slowly pushing his shirt the rest of the way off his arms, letting it fall, discarded on the ground behind him. You toed off your boots as he led you back towards his cot. Placing kisses along each new area of your body he exposed to the chilled morning air, as he pulled off your sweater and slip.

It soon joined his shirt and his own boots on the floor as he laid you bare on his sleeping bag, which was accompanied by a few thick blankets and a single pillow.

He pulled back to look at you, kneeling between your parted legs. Your hair, fanned out around your head in a halo as your skin flushed pink. A few marks along your neck and chest, turning a dark purple, a harsh comparison to your delicate complexion. It caused his heart to beat furiously, as his chest filled with pride.

You whined and reached out for him hoping he fall back down against you. Only he took your hands in his and pinned them against the blankets. His fingers laced and gripped tightly onto yours as he dove back into your neck and chest to continue his assault on your sensitive skin.

Your back arched as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of your throat and your hips rolled against his, chasing that feverish need for pleasure. He pulled away from you again and you almost cried, but at the rustling sound of fabric and the jingle of his belt you whimpered in anticipation.

He was back on you before you could even call out for him. Hands ripping your panties down your legs, caressing the soft skin of your ankle, and placing a kiss to the muscular physique of your calf. "Daryl..."

There it was, that oh so familiar plead of his name, laced with lust and desire.

"Again..." He demanded.

"Daryl?... please, Daryl..."

He crawled between your legs, resting against the pillow with his hands on either side of your head. His lips caught yours as you caressed his sides. Hands traveling over his back, only to find more scars etched into his hardened skin.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him even tighter against you, grinding your hips into his erection, which strained against the fabric of his boxers.

He growled and kissed your lips deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Telling him that he wasn't worthy enough. That he didn't deserve the privilege of touching your flawless skin with his tainted hands, or pressing his roughened lips against your delicate ones.

However, as your hand caught him firmly around the neck, keeping him from pulling away from you, and your hips eagerly bucked against his once again, as a symphony of your pleasure flowed into his mouth, the voice fell silent. Drowned out and muffled by you, and you alone.

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his navel, before slipping underneath the fabric. His breath hitched as your nimble fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, tugging at him skillfully.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against your temple, his lips parted as his breath quickened. You continued to attentively pump your hand up and down his hardened length. The fingers of your other hand tenderly running through his hair, showering him with affection as your lips brushed against his flushed cheek, leaving a trail of lingering kisses on his heated skin.

"f-fu... Fuck..." He stammered, his hands tightened around the quilts, his arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his advantage above you.

He suddenly pulled your hand off from around him, pinning it back onto the bed. "S'enough... won't last if ya' keep that up."

He groaned, trailing his free hand down between your bodies, as his fingers parted your lips, playing gently with your dripping folds. The sound of his voice in your ear sent shivers down your spine, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You instinctively clung onto him as you tugged lightly on his hair in an attempt to encourage him.

Daryl only hummed into your skin, nuzzling his face into your neck as he continued collecting your arousal on the tips of his callused fingers, spreading your wetness around your swollen, aching clit.

If it were anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about how wet he'd made you from something as simple as his hands against your skin, or how perfectly his body fit against yours, but with Daryl, all your thoughts melted away. Everything just felt so comfortable, so right.

His fingers circled the rim of your entrance, slipping gently between your lips. You guided him back up to your awaiting mouth from his spot nuzzled in the valley of your breasts, where he'd taken his sweet time kissing and nipping at the swell of them.

His mouth latched onto yours, sucking at your lips and teasing you by grazing his teeth over them softly. You couldn't help but revel in the comfort and pleasure of his touch.

His finger eased smoothly into your slick entrance. Your walls drawing them in with an eager clench as a rush of pleasure washed over you, causing you to moan against him. His fingertip caressed against the certain spot deep inside of you.

You arched your back in ecstasy as he suddenly added another finger. He stretched you even further causing you to let out a pleasureful moan that made him pause and instantly detach from your lips.

Looking at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the sight before him, the way your hips began to hump against his hand, aiding to the pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach.

You were absolutely breathtaking in your blissed-out state. His fingers stilled causing you to whine in frustration leaving you craving their pleasurable drag, in and out of your walls.

He sat up, pulling them from your weeping cunt to watch himself as he spread your arousal around your messy clit. You nodded your head profusely. "Don't stop..."

Your chest heaved, rising and falling in anticipation as he slipped his fingers back inside of you. His thighs were tensing beneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind against you, lost in his own pleasure.

That's when you felt him, your knees tightened around his hips as his cock started riding shamelessly against your inner thigh. You reached for his face, getting him to look back up at you as you caressed his jaw. "Please, Daryl... I need you-I need to feel you inside of me."

His fingers pulled back out from your entrance, popping them into his mouth, and licking them clean. Hoping to satisfy his craving of you with just a subtle taste of your sweet cunt.

He gripped at your waist, thumbs massaging circles against your hip-bones as he imagined tasting you straight from the source.

His lips were back on yours in seconds, hands pushing his boxers down franticly, and before you had the chance to catch your breath he'd already lined up at your entrance.

The head of his cock smeared in your slick as he teased you. He could feel your warmth soaking him as he let out a labored sigh, wishing he could just stuff you full.

He began slowly pushing into you and you clamp down on him. Your gasp turned more erratic and you fisted the sheets. Pulling them from your grasp, he reached out gripping your hand once you let out a soft hiss from the stretch of him.

"Relax sweetheart, we'll go slow."

He started carefully, squeezing your hand, he felt a subtle sting as your nails pierced through the skin on the back of his hand. A melody of whines slipped from between your lips, at the feeling of his cock, as it slid perfectly inside of your walls, as he entered himself inch by delicious inch.

He leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. As you both panted against each other, it kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.

Then he waited, for an agonizingly long time, before you gave him the go-ahead. Bucking your hips up, begging for more friction. He takes his time fucking into you, long and slow at first. Reaching so deeply with each thrust of his hips, causing you to gasp every time he bottomed out.

You withered and squirmed beneath him, moaning incoherent nonsense as he pinned you to the bed. Crying out as your orgasm built up at an aching speed.

His hips moved faster at the feeling of your walls relaxing around him, fitting his cock like a glove. You moaned and wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, he hooked the hinge of his arm under your knee. Lifting it up higher, so you could feel him reach deeper inside of you.

He let out a grunt against the crook of your neck. He couldn't see the way you took every inch of him, but he could hear it. The sticky squelching of your pliant little cunt being speared open for him, and fuck, he could feel it.

Hot, wet, and tight around him. Grinding your hips in rhythm with his, as noisy wet clicks filled the background noise. Embarrassingly loud, from how slick you'd become as he stuffed you full of him.

Hanging by a thread as you used your free hand to claw at his lower back, leaving angry red lines behind on his skin, as you held onto him desperately. He groaned at the pain and yet he enjoyed it. The feeling of being so close to you.

Your thighs opened wide for him, puffy lips spread and swollen, sensitive, aching clit peeking out from them, dragging against the hair at the base of him.

All of you, covered in a glossy sheen of your own juices, as a ring of arousal collected at the base of his cock, dripping onto his thighs. "Don't stop, m'gonna cum. Daryl, don't stop!"

You could feel the coil inside of you snap, a string of cries escaped your lips as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The high-pitched whine of his name. His lips consumed yours as he thrusted into you riding out your orgasm.

The convulsing clench of your cunt was his downfall. His upper body collapsing on top of you as he moaned out your name, before painting your insides white, your womb becoming nice and full with the weight of his release.

Reaching back down, he cupped his balls, massaging them. Causing himself to cum even harder. He began whimpering against your ear, and his sloppy wet kisses left behind a trail of drool, as he kissed down the side of your neck.

The two of you remained connected for quite some time. Basking in the sex-filled atmosphere of his tent. Your labored breaths and the cooing of the mourning doves, was your lullaby.

The heat radiating from the man caging you on the cot was bliss. Even as your skin was covered in a sheer layer of moisture you didn't want him to move from his place on top of you.

Your breaths began to even out and the gentle kisses he was placing on your shoulders and neck became less frequent. He began to sit up, and you felt his softened member start to slip from inside you causing your hands to tighten on his body, stopping his retreat. He froze at the sudden movement, afraid he'd hurt you somehow.

"Not yet... just- just a few more minutes." You whispered, pulling him back down to lay on your chest. The full wait of him felt safe, comforting. It was like you'd finally found solace after months of living in fear.

His fingers played with your wild hair, lulling you to sleep. Your hands on his back, mindlessly began running over his jagged scars, causing him to shiver at your unfamiliar touch, but he didn't stop you.

As much as Daryl hated what his father had done to him as a child, and the disgust he felt when looking at the lifelong reminder, your gentle hands were a beautiful relief in comparison to his father’s cruel ones.

There were so many things about you that were beautiful, so many things he just wasn’t used to. He wondered if that’s why he must've turned you away so often.

How when you offered things to show your affection towards him; books, food, clothes, blankets, sometimes even just your thoughts and feelings, he'd turn you away.

It was weird for him to experience such kindness from people around him and when a beautiful girl, such as yourself, suddenly came along and did it all, without asking for anything in return, it scared him.

He expected that after a while you’d start asking things of him. Things he'd have a hard time being able to give you. Things like friendship and vulnerability, things that oftentimes led him to get taken advantage of.

And yet as you laid beneath him he found himself wanting to give you such things. Wanting to be the reason you smiled so brightly at him, or laughed so beautifully. He wanted to feel the caress of your hands anywhere and anytime he could have them.

He hadn’t realized what exactly made him so wary of you in the beginning, but he knew now. He knew that you brought to life a part of him that he thought had died, a long time ago, long before the world had even ended.

Long before his brother had convinced him they were weaknesses, and even longer before his father had tried to beat them out of him.

"Would ya' leave with me?" He asked unexpectedly.

"What?"

"If... When we 'ave ta leave. Would ya' come with me?"

His words took you by surprise. You hadn't really ever thought about leaving the farm. Not that there were many places to even run towards, but still, the thought of leaving behind everything you'd ever known scared you.

Yet, you also knew that the farm wouldn't be safe forever. You knew that one day you would have to leave, and whether it was now; with Daryl and his group, or later; with your father and sisters. That was the real question.

"I don't know. I think there's more to it." You said.

"Why's that?"

"I can't leave my family Daryl... but I also know that what we have here won't last forever, no matter how badly I wish it could." You could feel Daryl shift against you, leaning back to look up at you as you spoke.

"I'm worried that if we're out there on our own, my father won't be able to protect us all, no matter how badly he'd try." It hurt for you to admit it, but you weren't fool enough to not realize the truth.

"It would either make us learn how to protect each other or find others to protect us... and to tell you the truth, I don't know how many people are out there, that are worth protecting back..." You felt tears well up behind your eyes, as a hitch caught in your throat.

"Not like you... or Lori and Carl... or Glenn... Carol... I'm afraid that God might've dropped you all on our doorstep and my father is just too blind to see it."

Daryl wanted to laugh at the mention of God. "Ya' think God did all this?"

"I'd like to think he did something. Whether that be bring the dead back walking or sending you here. Either one puts a strain on my fathers pride." You teased.

Daryl sat up and this time you didn't stop him. You winced as you felt him disconnect from you and sighed as his hands ran softly over your hips. "'mazes me ya' still believe in God after everythin'"

"I've got to believe in something." You said smiling up at him. He laughed and shook his head.

As Daryl's eyes fixated on you, it was evident that his mind was lost in thought. He couldn't help but admire your unwavering faith in something as unreliable as God, even at a time like this.

In this apocalyptic world, it wasn't God who would shield you from the undead. It wouldn't be God who'd courageously plunge a knife into their skulls or valiantly fight to protect you from any danger, but rather Daryl.

He would willingly place himself between you and the snapping teeth of a walker or stand as a shield, to the menacing barrel of a gun, if it meant protecting your life.

Even in a world as cruel and tormenting as this one, he was determined to make sure you had a chance to experience just a little bit more time.

"Then believe in me..."

He looked at you, really looked at you this time.

"Don't waste y'er energy believin' in somethin' ya' don't even know will protect ya' or not... Not when m'here..."

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

[merowkittie]

Pretty When You Cry — Daryl Dixon

Summary: Daryl hears you crying and doesn’t know what to do.

Warnings: angst / talks of suicide and death / fluff at the end <3

(Ok so originally I was stuck with two people, Daryl or Joel?? So as you can see by the title who I chose, maybe Joel will get his own ? I dunno omg also I used the pet name flower in this.. idc it’s so cute to me,, if you don’t like it.. 😸)

You were not meant to make it. You knew that better than anyone else. The weak die fast right?

So why were you still here..?

That’s what you asked yourself every single fucking day. When you had to walk around camp and see the ghosts of half of your found family. Mostly everyone you loved was gone. They were all useful and great assets to the group.

You? Oh man. You were a good fighter but you often times let your emotions get to you. It’s been years since this apocalypse started and yet you still got sick seeing those walkers.

They were once humans. Now? They’re a ghost in the person they used to be. They’re still there but not conscious enough to gain control over their own bodies. At least that’s how you felt it was like.

The days feel so long and you were feeling nothing but tired. You felt as though it was getting harder and harder to hang on to something here. Nothing was keeping you grounded anymore. Nothing.

You wanted to escape this hell of a place so much. The world was shit. You were scared out of your mind. Tomorrow you could be dead. Dead by a Walker or another human being.

Or maybe even yourself if you had the guts to do it.

Tonight though, it was an old bottle of wine you found on a supply run, you and the quiet of the lonely house you were in, in Alexandria.

You normally shared it with Daryl but he told you he had to do something important with Rick and most likely wouldn’t be back until later into the early night time.

“Daryl? Where are you going?” You pouted playfully at the older man and poked him gently on his rib cage.

He sighed and swatted your hand away, “Doin’ somethin’ with Rick. Said he needed my help with somethin’.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. You didn’t want him to leave cause you knew you’d be lonely and he was one of your only sources of entertainment!

“Your leaving me all alone in this empty houseeee??” You dragged the words childishly and tugged at his vest.

He raised his eye brows at you, a little warning. Then he turned fully around so he could be facing you, “I’ll be back later..”

“Later as in Never.. when do you think you’ll be back Dixon?”

“Real late, flower.”

You smiled at the little pet name he gave you years ago.

You and Daryl were in no way dating. Though you wanted to be, you both didn’t know how to initiate it. Daryl was so.. awkward? You were just bad at talking about your feelings with a man who was a bit scary and you couldn’t really read him sometimes.

With a sigh you nodded, “That’s betrayal right there, Dixon. I’ll see you when you get back..”

He nodded and picked his cross bow up from the table in the desolate dining room. As he started to walk out the door you called his name in a whisper. Must’ve been loud enough for him to hear you cause he turned around and watched your brown eyes flicker with hesitation.

Your hand smoothed the raven curls on your head down towards the puff that sat on top of your head. You were suddenly a bit nervous.

“Be Safe ok? And don’t miss me too much.” your deep brown lips lifted into a smile at the man.

He grunted in response and nodded. Just like that he left and you would wait until he’d come back.

Now it’s past midnight you’re tipsy, not drunk but still able to process things normally. The wine bottle you were slowly sipping on turned into large gulps and soon most of the bottle was gone in an hour or so.

The bedroom felt so empty and too eerie. The bed sheets felt uncomfortable on your skin and oh you wanted nothing but to scratch it off.

Salty tears wet your cheeks and slowly fell down to your neck. The alcohol in your system had you thinking, made you feel all bubbly and weirdly empty.

Your sobs rocked your entire body as your arms enveloped yourself in a tight hug. The sounds of your cries surely could be heard throughout the house. Who knew you had so much anger, guilt and sadness built up in you?

This was not what you were gonna do tonight but there’s always last minute split decisions right?

The door to the house opened and Daryl stepped in bruised and tired. He closed the door and heard you almost instantly. His body tensed up and he readied his cross bow, making his way slowly up the stairs.

The sounds of your sobs got louder as he stood in front of your door, though it was left ajar.

He peeked in and the sight of you left him rigged. He’s only ever saw you cry once and that was when Beth had died. You two were so close you could practically call each other sisters.

Daryl didn’t know what to do so he just watched you. Like a god damn creep but he was confused.

Why were you crying?

Daryl started to walk away, back to his own room until he stepped on one of the old floor boards and it creaked. Loud enough to alert you and pause your sobs.

“Daryl?” Your voice croaked out.

There was no answer from the brooding man so you asked again.

“Daryl.. are you outside of my door being a creep?” You giggled though it was raspy, it made Daryl smile a little.

“I, Uh— heard ya cryin’ from downstairs.. thought it was something goin’ on up here..” His voice was gruff and muffled as he spoke through the small opening of the door.

You hummed. You wiped at your nose with the sleeve of your Henley (Daryl’s that you stole) and sniffled.

“Come in here.. you look crazy just standing there Dixey..”

He grunted and came into your dark room and made his way over to your bed. Daryl just.. stood in front of your smaller figure and looked at you.

You pulled on his vest so that you could hold him in a hug. The position was awkward as you were sitting cross legged on the bed with your face buried in his broad chest and he just held his arms above your back, unsure of what to do.

You tugged on his body harder which caused him to stumble on top of you on the bed. He could feel you smirk against him at what you just did.

“If ya wanted me in bed ya coulda just said somethin’.” He huffed out and still not touching you, made himself as comfortable as he could with you holding on to him like a koala.

“Dixon..” you peered up at the man.

He hummed.

“Why do you keep me around? You’ve saved me so many times I can’t even count how much on both hands.. I’ve done nothing for you In return..” the pout on your lips pulled at his heart strings.

Daryl sighed and said, “I don’t mind saving your ass a few times. Ya don’t gotta do anythin’ in return.”

You sniffled and Daryl internally groaned. He did NOT want to watch you cry and console you cause one thing he was terrible at was consoling someone. His childhood was far from sweet and he wasn’t talked to lovingly or consoled when he was sad. So how could he do that with you..?

“But— bu— I feel like a god damn burden Daryl. Every time I wake up my shoulders feel heavy and my chest feels like there’s a weight on top of them. I— ugh I can’t—” your words cut off with a sob and you cling on to him harder.

Your body shook with every sob that came out of your body. He watched you with a slight frown.

He shook his head and placed a strong arm around your back and a hand on top of your head of curls and patted you like a dog. He was trying.

“No. No yer not that, flower. Man.. if I didn’t meet ya I probably woulda gone insane by now. Yer not a burden baby.. don’t say that.”

“But I am! I— I bring nothing to the team Daryl! I don’t want to— I don’t wanna be here anymore. If I left there w—would be more food and more supplies for the rest of-”

“Don’t you fucking saying that do ya here me? Don’t say shit like that. You’re staying right here with me wether you like it or not.”

Silence filled the room besides your heavy breaths.

He whispered your name, cutting through the thick silence.

You whispered his.

You didn’t even know how much control you had over this man if you just made him yours. He was at your feet at this point. You had him wrapped around your lithe fingers, pulling him in tight.

“‘M sorry.. I’m so sorry Dixon.” You sighed into the crook of his neck, “I don’t mean to drag you in here and comfort me like some baby.. I know you’re probably not comfortable with me like that..” you tried to pull away but he kept you close.

“No.. no I.. I like it.” Daryl was surprised at his own words. Daryl had never been comfortable with a woman like this.

“You like it? ..well then if I had known.. I would’ve been cuddling with you much sooner Dixon..” you giggled at the thought of this man spooning with you, it made him chuckle a bit too.

There was more silence, though now it was comfortable.

“Are ya feeling any better?”

You nodded and looked up at him to find he was already looking down at you.

“Daryl…” you breathed out, ready to ask.. or to tell him something you’ve been wanting to say for a while.

He called out your name and slowly you made your way up to him. Your faces mere centimeters apart and you looked into his eyes, asking for permission. Once you saw him nod slightly you placed your lips on his.

The kiss was slow and gentle. Nothing too harsh or rough. His lips were chapped against your own soft ones. Teeth slightly grazing your lower lip each time your lips connecting again.

You let out a quiet moan when he bit down on your bottom lip and tugged on it as he pulled away.

“Fuck..” he muttered under his breath.

You two stared at each other whilst catching your breath. You were the first to speak up.

“Dixon.. I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now..” you bit your lip in anticipation of what he’d say next, hoping he really did feel the same after that kiss.

He placed his larger hand on the back of your head and pulled you closer so he could kiss your temple, “Love ya too.”

You smiled and kissed his jaw. The hair on it sticking your nose.

The two of you stayed close together like that through the night. Whispering nothing but sweet affirmations and listening to the sound of the nights wind.

Maybe when the morning comes you’ll have a new purpose. Someone to hang on to.

[zane009]

raindrops

summary: Daryl comforting you in the rain??

word count: around 800

Daryl x reader

a/n: prison daryl era <333 in a big writing slump rn so don’t judge this one too much :( not proof read

The stench of the dead bodies didn't help with your racing thoughts and nausea. On top of that the weather wasn't looking very promising. You and Daryl were out on a run trying to get more supplies for the newcomers at the prison, which you wouldn’t mind at all if it where any other day.

As you were currently walking around a deserted street filled with dead walkers you couldn't stop your racing thoughts.

You had recently lost another member of your group and while this wasn't anything new this time you felt different. You didn't know how many deaths, how many bites, how much more killing can you handle. Every death drained you a little bit more than the last. You just wanted everything to stop.

You wanted to stop existing just for a second and let everything be okay. But that's not possible. Not in the world like this. You felt the first teardrop roll down your cheek making you sniffle slightly.

Daryl immediately caught that and stopped in his tracks to look back at you. With your head down low you were staring at your worn out shoes since you didn’t have the nerve to look up at him. He lost and went through so much more than any of you and here you were crying and complaining.

"wha's wrong darlin' are ya okay?"

The softness in Daryls voice made you tear up even more as you slowly looked up at him. The worry immediately filled his eyes as he quickly stepped right in front of you.

He looked at you straight in the eyes with the softest look he could muster as he placed both of his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face.

"darlin' ya gotta talk t' me c'mon" he said while inspecting you for any damage of a walker bite or a scratch.

You were collecting your courage to talk to him but how could you dump all of this on him while so many people were depending on him already. You looked at him standing there in front of you, face inches apart from your own.

His soft curls laid perfectly over his shoulders as his face was scrunched up with worry. Your Daryl.

You started crying really hard at that moment, the only thing keeping you from collapsing was Daryls grounding hold on your face.

At that moment Daryl seemed even more worried if that was even possible. He started caressing your cheeks and wiping away the tears that left the corners of your eyes.

" I don't want to be here anymore"

You barely whispered and as soon as you did Daryls eyes filled with sadness and something else. Something familiar. He knew that feeling. At that moment you felt terrible and As if that wasn't enough you felt the first raindrop on you face.

While daryl was gazing at you with and unreadable look the raindrops increased wetting your faces to the point that you didn’t know if he was wiping away your tears or the rain.

Your clothes became wet and hair damp but you two still didn’t move until Daryl slowly leaned in and placed a delicate kiss to your forehead. He stayed that way for a few seconds with his hot lips pressed on your cold skin.

He gently pulled away but just enough to reposition himself lower so your foreheads were touching. He slid his hands from your face and rested them on your hips drawings small circles into your skin with his thumbs. You knew he wasn’t good with words so just him being there for you was enough.

“ya will always have me with ya”

he said as he connected your lips in the softest kiss filled full with emotion. Filled with everything he couldn’t say. With all the comfort you needed.

As you gently moved away from the kiss he pulled you into a warm hug while the rain was still pouring over you two. He pulled you into him as much as he could with one hand placed on your lover back and the other caressing your wet hair.

The world around you was forgotten. The danger of walkers passing by, forgotten. The supplies you were supposed to gather, forgotten. At that moment it was just you and him with rain pouring over you. You figured you wanted to keep existing here, with him by your side. With your Daryl.

⁂☆彡𐬾𐬺✩

this is so bad but I’m not in the right headspace rn sorry :/

[dickfics69]

If anyone’s been reading my fic Emotional Motion Sickness, I’ve been using the ai to make some inspo for sick Daryl and I think they’re adorable. Care taking Rick is very hot

It’s inspiring me to write it again

[celtic-crossbow]

Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What’s Left

Pairing: Daryl Dixon, Fem!Reader

Setting: No Distinct Setting

Warnings: Angst

Summary: There are no happy endings.

A/N: Really just vent writing. Sorry.

“Why?”

You heard the crack in his voice, but you couldn’t look at him. You just kept shoving your belongings into your bag; nothing folded or neat, everything a disaster. It’s what you were accustomed to, what you had always known.

“You know why.” You replied quietly. When you heard his steps crossing the room, you turned and walked backwards toward the window, just barely avoiding his reaching hand.

“Ya don’t have to run anymore. Ya got people here.”

“I’ll drive them all away, Daryl.” You still avoided looking at him, though you could feel his gaze burning a hole straight through you; like he could see your scarred, thin soul and its patchwork repairs that were barely holding together. “I’ll drive you away.”

You walked back over to the bed and your bag, making sure to keep some distance between the two of you. If he touched you now, you’d give in and stay. And it would cost them all.

Nothing good ever came from loving you.

“I don’t scare easy, ya know that.” There was a quiver in his tone and you knew he was crying. “Just stay.” You zipped your bag and made to pick it up, but he moved so quickly that you barely had time to pull your hand away. His palm came to rest on one of the straps instead. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t.” You absolutely could not look at him. So, you watched his fingers fold around the strap of your bag.

“Y/N.”

“Daryl, stop.”

“Please.”

You closed your eyes and felt the tears you were trying to hold back sting as they gathered and passed over your waterline. You had managed not to cry up until that point, thinking somehow it would be easier for him to let you go if he thought it didn’t hurt you.

He’d never understand how badly it did hurt.

He’d never understand how you had to fight against everything your heart was screaming at you just to keep him safe.

From you.

“Happy endings aren’t real, Daryl.” You grabbed the side of the bag and snatched it away. “I thought you would have figured that out way before the apocalypse.”

When you turned to quickly walk out of the room and out of his life, you pretended you didn’t hear the broken sound of him calling your name.

[twigg96]

I Should Have Been There

Daryl Dixon X Bitten Reader fic

Era: Alexandria

Pronouns: She/Her/You/[Y/N]

Warnings: Cannon divergent, talks of illness and zombie bites in detail, kidnapping, descriptions of limp amputation, blood, talks about prosthetics, Angst, Hurt/comfort

Summery: After Daryl goes out for a run, Pete Anderson asks you to help him carry some records back to his office for him. What you never expected of the doctor was to be locked up in a torture chamber with a walker as a punishment and statement for Rick to take heed to not fuck with him or his family ever again. It's up to Glenn, your best friend since before the outbreak, Daryl your boyfriend, the ingenious thinking of Maggie, the invisible nature of Carol's investigation skills, and Rick your over protective leader to find you. But will they find you in time to save your life?

Your POV

Walking around the walls of Alexandria for the 100th time that day you began to feel. The cabin fever beginning to take hold of you. Being out on the land for so long, free to go where you wanted, run where ever you wanted with the threat of walkers being the only thing keeping you awake at night truly was a luxury you were missing around now. Rick and Michonne had instructed everyone to keep your heads down. Keep to yourselves as much as possible. So you did as told even if you did wish Daryl had smuggled you on his bike on his latest run outside. But if anyone needed the escape more than you it was your boyfriend. With a deep sigh you tapped the metal of the wall with your wrench listening vaguely for any sounds of defaults or hollowness in the sound that reverberated back to you indicating a missing nut or rust that needed to be brushed away. Maggie, your chore partner for this particular job looked over her shoulder to you eyeing you with her dark eyes. "What? Am I not entertaining enough company fer ya?" She teased, knowing exactly what was bothering you. The poor brunette had her ear chewed off for hours the night before when you found out your boyfriend had taken yet another long run without even saying a word goodbye. "No..." You muttered, boredom dripping from your voice. "Just antsy." You replied not even looking to the walls anymore as the two of you continued your rounds. "How about this?" Maggie muttered, turning around on her heel so that she was walking backwards facing towards you. "We finish our shift, and I'll talk Deanna into letting us sneak past the gates for an evening stroll picking flowers?" She cocked a brow making the offer sound as enticing as she could. Picking flowers sounded like the most boring job a person could have especially when there were so many more exciting jobs to be had. But if it gave you an opportunity to escape this Hell for a little you would put up with anything. "Sure." You smiled, brushing some hair behind your ear.

"Morning ladies." A voice deep and sickeningly prideful called out to you both pulling your attention. You struggled to hide your disgust as you stared at the town's doctor, Pete Anderson. A dirty blonde towering idiot of a man who thought that using intimidation would get him places. Oh how wrong he had been once Rick had found out what he was doing to his wife... however his usual cockiness had returned and his air of superiority seemed to permeate even the space the three of you held, which worried you if you were being honest. "Can I have your help with something?" He asked, tucking his bruised hands into his pockets. "Just need help carrying some medical records and would appreciate the second pair of hands." He muttered meeting your eyes momentarily before turning them to the ground. Turning to Maggie you shared a glance, one that spoke more than words ever could. One of mistrust for the doctor but knew, in order to keep the peace with the town that one of you should at least try. Silently, Maggie glanced to the next wooden watch tower not even three tracker trailer lengths away. Atop it sat a very bored looking Glenn, his back pressed to the metal wall, his baseball cap pulled over his eyes, rifle resting comfortably over his lap. If you didn't know better you'd think the Korean was sleeping. But experience with your best friend had proved that the apocalypse had shaped him into one light sleeper. Maggie gave you a small almost indistinguishable look that told you to go. She'd stay and she and Glenn would come for you if she didn't see you by the time she reached her husband's post. Nodding you turned back to the doctor you shoved the wrench you carried deep in your pocket and stepped forward. "Lead the way, doc."

You watched the sky turn a ruddy orange as Pete lead you past rows and rows of very similar housing. If it wasn't for small lawn ornaments, flower and vegetable gardens growing, and hand made decorations you would have never been able to distinguish the houses apart. Placing his hand on your arm, Pete ushered you through a tight ally between two houses and into a space you never knew existed. Not that you ever explored beyond the main populace for fear of becoming eternally lost amongst the suburban hell. Beyond the pampered lawns of owned society were the untamed untended lawns of houses yet to find a owner. Their windows were dark and dust covered. Some were boarded with windows broken presumably from rocks thrown from the local hooligans that roamed the streets after dark. Pete lead you to one of the homes, a small nearly invisible basement door had been painted over making it nearly indistinguishable with the rest of the rest of the house's foundation aside from a rusted padlock that held the door shut and had warn with the elements. Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, Pete tried several of them with various levels of success before finally popping it open with a small click. Pocketing the lock, Pete unlatched the door and swung the door open with a loud squeak.

The basement was dark and dusty. Dirt laid on every surface that was bathed in light from the doorway. Mice droppings scattered the floor and the smell of stale air and mold filled the air making your stomach turn. The doctor however pushed forward into the darkness turning on a flashlight you never knew he possessed. Following close behind the man who craned his neck while swiping at spider webs that threatened to get in his face. "So where are these records at?" You muttered lowly, glancing at the man only now noticing how dark his bags under his eyes had gotten since your arrival. Dr. Anderson never responded instead he pointed his torch towards a wooden door locked with another series of padlocks. You cocked a brow but didn't question anything, HIPPA was a thing in the early world... you simply assumed he was one of the only ones who still adhered to it. Kicking an empty can of fruit to the side that must have fallen from one of the wooden shelves surrounding you, a sudden deep growl stopped you in your tracks. Grabbing the doctor's shoulder tight enough to bruise you quickly placed your finger to your lips. A walker?! Here in the town?! Maybe the house was inhabited at one point and the owner died? Grabbing the wrench from your pocket you wished you had been smart enough to grab your knife from the armory that morning. Pete swung his light around where you pointed. To the floor to look for crawlers then through the shelving. You saw nothing but the shadows that made you even more wary then you already were. Looking above yourself you assumed that the walker had died in the upper levels of the home... You'd have to come back with Rick later to deal with it... "Let's get these records. Just keep your voice down." You whispered gesturing to the door with the padlock. The doctor nodded pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock the lock.

As the lock knocked against the latch, the growling grew, and your patience dwindled. "Jesus can you be any fucking louder?" You whispered, glaring at the man. "Doctors are supposed to have steady hands... right?" You hissed, ready to rip the keys from the quivering man's hands yourself and do it yourself. "Shut the fuck up." Dr. Anderson growled back unlatching the lock at last. Flipping the lock and unlatching the door with one motion Pete too a step back behind you, shoving you forward through the door. The unexpectedness of it all made you trip over the high step in the doorframe. You lost your grip on your wrench and it flew from your hand and skittered onto the floor into the darkness of the room. "Ah... what the-" You called out turning to Pete, a devilish grin crossing his illuminated face. "Rick thinks he can save everyone... Lets see him save you..." He muttered darkly. Your eyes widened at the doctor's words and a deep low growl echoed from further into the room. The sickening smell of decomp hit you like a truck and the silhouette of something vaguely human limped into the light. Scrambling to your feet you tried like hell to reach the door before it was slammed shut. But only you were too late. Scratching and banging your palms against the wood of the door you could hear your heart beating in your ears. No! No no nO! This isn't how it was supposed to go! "Pete please let me out!" You begged hearing the latch close and lock click. "I wager you have three days before you die of thirst... lets see how long it takes Rick to notice you're gone." Footsteps leading away from the door were followed by a small rustling and a high pitch squeak from the other door closing.

The growls from behind you grew only louder but in the pitch dark you had no idea how close or how many walkers existed in the small space. Pressing yourself firmly to the grimy walls you slowly started to skirt along the permitter feeling the cold wet cement under your fingers. Faintly you wondered what it was that was wet before figuring it was better to live in ignorance than disgust. As you rounded the first corner you found the sharp corner of something tall and heavy protruding from the wall. An end table? No it was far too heavy for that and metal. Sliding your hand down the side of the object you found it was long and rectangular with drawers. Ah so a filing cabinet or a safe. Interesting. Skirting around the object you hugged the wall as closely as possible hoping you were near the rear of the room and at least halfway around. But as your foot came in contact with a metal can sending it rolling across the floor you felt your body tense as the deep growling came from mere inches from your face.

Glenn's POV

The sun had lowered far beyond the forest and the lights of the town began to light. From Glenn's place upon the tower he could see the approaching headlights of Aaron and Daryl returning from their run . A smile graced his lips as he sat up slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Should make [Y/N] happy to see him home safe. "Glenn!" Maggie called up the wooden latter as he stood. Looking down Glenn smiled down at his wife. Everyday was little brighter when he saw her beautiful face. "Hey Mags. Where's [your nickname]? She run off to be with lover boy already?" Glenn asked a smirk gracing his features as he climbed down the creaky latter. "No... I was just about to ask you if you'd seen her..." Maggie muttered worriedly. Glenn cocked a brow hopping the last step of the latter. It wasn't like you to skip work ever. "Why? Something wrong?" Glenn asked moving the hat on his head to wipe away the sweat that was building underneath. "Dr. Anderson came by earlier..." She drawled rubbing her arms and looking around nervously. Glenn frowned wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I saw them walk off together into the town a few hours back... want to take a walk with me up to the garage? I'm sure she just got caught up helping the doctor. She just got carried away talking with Daryl." Glenn muttered, although his voice didn't hide the worry that he felt deep inside.

Walking hand in hand with Maggie to the center of town Glenn couldn't help but notice the blinds on the Anderson home flutter closed or the way the doctor had been peeking through his front door's window at the growing group just across the road from his residence. But the skilled tactician tried his damnedest to shove his negative thoughts to the back of his mind as they rounded the corner to the garage. Surely [Y/N] would be there, pleasantly distracted by her one and only. Oh how wrong he was... Daryl stood leaning against the garage wall talking to Aaron looking to the open bay door expectantly as the two walked into view. However the small defeated sigh, and deflated stance wasn't lost on Glenn when he noticed it was just the two of them. But... Glenn tried to stay positive. He had to... for his own sake if nobody else's. "Hey guys!" He called out waving jubilantly. "How was the run?" He unable to hold back a snarky laugh as Daryl flipped him off and rolled his eyes. "How'd ya think it went? We're back early." Daryl grumbled. "Awe shit I'm sorry about that, Daryl." Maggie said softly letting go of Glenn's hand to step closer to the archer. Daryl shrugged looking past them both and into the night. "Ya'll seen [Y/N] round anywhere? Normally they're the first ta greet me. She pissed at me 'r somethin'?" Daryl asked chewing the side of his thumb. Maggie shook her head. "No... we were hoping you'd seen her." Daryl shifted uncomfortably scanning Maggie's face for a moment with sheer scrutiny. "What ya mean? I was on a run all day I just got back." Maggie nodded meeting Daryl's eyes sadly. "Yeah we were hoping she'd be here with you... and that was the reason why she missed our meet up after she went with Dr. Anderson." Daryl tensed looking past Maggie to the Anderson household. "So ya think..." Daryl paused his face morphing into something dark and possessively. More so than Glenn had ever seen before from the stoic archer. "That bastard did something ta her?" Aaron shook his head, placing the socket wrench down on the work table beside himself. "Dr. Anderson? What? No way... I mean... the man has his bad days... and he's prone to drink but everyone has their vices." But Glenn didn't think he sounded convincing, even to himself. "I-I'm not sure. But she was supposed to be back by now." Maggie muttered worriedly looking back over her shoulder. "Ok... look I saw the two of them walking through the town earlier but lost them around here... I say we get Rick and Michonne and start looking for them." Maggie sighed rubbing her arms. "I hear you Glenn but I don't want to jump the gun." Daryl huffed staring at Maggie as if she grew a second head. "Jump the gun? Ya gotta be shitting." He snarled. Glaring back Maggie simply shook her head. "No of course not Daryl. She told me earlier that she wanted to get out of the walls... she's been itching to get out, cooped up in here she feels like she's going crazy. Maybe... if we're lucky she snuck out after she helped the doctor. Hopefully she just needs to cool down and took a walk. Knowing her she'll be back by morning." Maggie muttered running her hands through her hair. It seemed to Glenn that no one trusted a single hopeful word anymore. Why would they... after everything they'd been through. "Well I aint about to just sit pretty while [Y/N] is out God know's where tonight... I'm lookin' fer her. Do what ya want." Daryl growled storming towards his bike. Anxiety surged through Glenn as he watched Daryl climb his bike. "Daryl you just got back! You should at least rest before you head back out!" Glenn yelled placing a hand on the larger man's chest. "Glenn... I apricate yer concern but I've stayed up much longer and this is more important than any rest I need... Now move Glenn." Daryl murmured meeting Glenn's gaze seriously. So with a solemn nod Glenn stepped to the side letting the bike roar to life and Daryl take off into the night.

Daryl's POV

The ride to the gate was a short one, but it felt like the longest drive Daryl had ever taken in his life thus far. Not even the last ride he and Merle took together to the safety of the Quarry felt so long as this. At least then he felt safe. Secure with a partner by his side, family. No. Now was different. Now he was in an unfamiliar hostile environment that threatened not only his very existence, but the very love of his life as well. He felt so alone and exposed. Not even the familiar sight of Rick and Michonne standing by the gate speaking to Rochelle standing guard could ease his anxiety. As Daryl pulled up to the gate's entrance, his best friend's face fell his dark eyes scanning the archer sitting atop the bike. "Leaving so soon Daryl? Ya just got back." Michonne called out over the roar of the bike. Daryl shook his head glaring straight ahead. There were no time for pleasantries tonight. "Open the gate. I gotta get outta here." He grumbled to Rochelle ignoring her furrowed brow. "Look Daryl you should rest even if-" Rick tried to reason, reaching for the key of the motorcycle to turn it off and talk at a normal level. With a swift motion, Daryl caught the deputy's wrist glaring daggers into the man. "I aint got time fer that Rick." Daryl bit out shoving Rick away. "[Y/N's] missin'. I'm gonna head out an see if I can find her." Daryl huffed gripping his bike tightly to hide the way his hands shook with anger and anxiety. The archer watched a the ease wash from Rick's face, a stern and intense concentration falling into it's place. It was a look Daryl had seen before. One Rick held when he lost Lori. "Missing? What do you mean missing?" Rick uttered the peremptory question. Daryl growled not shaken by his best friend. "Ask Maggie. I aint got time to chat." Daryl muttered, revving the engine of his bike as if to make his point clear, gesturing to Rochelle to open the gate for him. "Daryl... [Y/N] didn't come through this gate. I would have seen her if she did." Rochelle tried to reason as the archer walked his bike closer to her. "You know as well as I do that there are areas on this wall that can be climbed over. I've seen you and Abraham using the same makeshift latter [Y/N] and I do to get out of the city for a walk when we don't want to be pestered. Now shut up and open the damned gate before I do it myself." Daryl growled not missing the tiny nod Rick gave Rochelle. "Ok... but I don't like it. But, you can go. Just be back by morning... if you can't find her by then, we'll spread out. All of us. Keep your radio on. Hopefully she just got lost in town again and will stumble home sometime late tonight. I'll stay up and radio you if she turns up." Rick called over the engine of the bike. Daryl nodded feeling slightly reassured knowing that Rick was going to do whatever needed to be done to find you. With a defeated sigh the petite woman unlatched the lock to the gate, pulling them open with a metallic screech. With a flick of his finger, Daryl turned his head light on and sped into the night praying to catch sight of you somewhere deep within the woods around Alexandria.

Glenn's POV

Sleep did not come easy that night for Glenn. Worry seeped into this very bones and leaked into his dreams morphing them into venomous night terrors that twisted his body and shook him to his very core. Images of your body ripped to shreds like one of the thousands of corpses he'd seen before flashed before his eyes. A long stretch of road with you tied gagged and bound at the end. The road stretching ever longer the harder he ran to get to you. His heart pounding in his chest. It was his fault. You were his best friend. Had been since before the outbreak. You were his responsibility. You and Maggie. He should have kept a better eye on you. Especially when you went off with Dr. Anderson. Glenn woke up to early morning sun shimmering off the cold sweat that covered his body. Maggie slept restlessly beside him, her moaning and whining accompanied by subtly jerks were indication enough that she was having yet another nightmare. They seemed never ending nowadays. Sitting up slowly as to not disturb what little sleep his wife was getting, Glenn snuck out of bed, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a clean shirt before slipping downstairs. With any hope, you had slipped back home in the middle of the night with hardly any notice to any of them. It wouldn't be the first time you had slipped away... but as he stepped into the empty kitchen to put a pot of coffee on and crept quietly into the living room to peer over the couch to see who preoccupied it, either Daryl, [Y/N] or both. He was almost astonished to find Rick laying on the plush cushions, his attention turned to the door and a sleeping Judith pulled tightly to his chest. A single glance from the grisled police officer told Glenn he was awake and alert. Yet the dark bags under his eyes saying that he'd been up way too long. "Hey." Glenn whispered, leaning over the back of the couch. "Anything yet?" he asked, still hopeful, still optimistic. But Rick just shook his head, brushing the hair back out of Judith's face earning a deep contented sigh from his daughter as she slept. "Not yet." He murmured. Anxiety tightened Glenn's chest as he shuffled his feet. "Well... it's still early." Glenn whispered, looking to the door, hoping that in that moment both Daryl and [Y/N] would come waltzing in the door like a couple after a particularly eventful prom night. But it never happened. Instead the door stayed dreadfully closed. A less than hopeful hum came from the graying man as he shifted on the couch. "We'll see once Daryl comes back... she aint with him when he comes back we're going on high alert and searching every square inch of this place. Inside and out." Rick's voice was dark and commanding. It sent chills down Glenn's spine and before he realized what he was doing. Glenn nodded in compliance. The smell of fresh roasted coffee reminded Glenn of his first mission of the morning. "Want any?" Glenn asked standing straight. "Please!"

[Y/N] was gone... she never came back with Daryl. The look on Daryl's face when he pulled up on the motorcycle was enough to make Glenn's stomach turn. It felt like the day Beth passed all over again. Daryl was beside himself, pacing and grasping at his hair, the archer looked ready to faint. "I looked all over the ridges, Rick!" Daryl growled, pulling back and punching a sizable hole into the drywall. Blood dripped from his knuckles and soaked into the plush carpet as he paced once more. "I went the whole way out to the fuckin' shoppin' district. I cleared three shops we hadn't got to yet. I looked in the library. I searched every inch of the woods I could from the walls to about three miles out each way! I crawled in the damn sewer for Christ's sake!" Daryl was in retrospect fucking filthy. He was covered in zombie guts and dirt. And now Glenn completely understood what that third smell was that emanated from Daryl. "She's not out there I just know it... somethin' had to happen in here." Daryl muttered only stopping making his track in the carpet when Carol came back with a wet wash cloth for him to wipe his face and hands off with. "I aint doubtin' ya, Daryl." Rick tried deescalating the archer. "I just think a pass in the daylight with fresh eyes would be good... " Rick started ignoring the resentful glare he received in response. "Ya think I woulda missed her? I was calling out fer her! She would have heard me!" Daryl hissed, taking a challenging step towards Rick. But Glenn knew more than anyone what Rick was insinuating... that there was a chance you couldn't have answered. Be it because you were in danger... or dead. Rick stayed silent staring Daryl down trying desperately to get this point across to him without actually being the one to say it. "I just think we need to send a fresh new team out... You need to shower... eat something... then you can join Glenn in the city looking for her." Rick muttered definitively. With a small nod Glenn tried to pull a confident nod. "Yeah! I'll head out right away ok... so don't worry." Glenn muttered stepping as close as his nose would allow to the archer. Daryl rolled his eyes but nodded heading up the stairs to take a shower. Rick watched him carefully before turning to Glenn and Maggie. "Listen... I'll need everyone on this. Maggie I need you to talk to Deanna and explain that some of our people will be searching for one of our own outside of the walls... don't go into details yet. We don't want Dr. Dickface catching wind that we're onto him. I also don't want you to tell her we'll be searchin' in the walls too. If anyone has a chore, have them search while they work to be less conspicuous. The rest of us need to be as normal as possible while we look. Carol. You need to ask about locations in the walls that anyone would know of that is secret. Or that is kept off limits for any reason." Maggie and Carol nodded mentally noting Rick's instruction. "Ok, lets fucking find [Y/N]."

Your POV

Sliding around the wall you tried like hell to keep the growling, flesh-eating demon as far away from yourself as you possibly could. Unfortunately for you a pipe pultruding from the wall caught your shirt and caught you off guard. The small ripping sound from your shirt caught the monster's attention and the growling mutilated corpse surged towards you just as you lost your balance. Holding both arms out straight you screamed as the weight of another human pinned you back against the wall. A sharp pain shot through your nondominant hand and suddenly as a slippery and slimy appendage slid past your fingers you realized that the zombie had your hand in it's mouth. Adrenaline surged through you like a drug as the poison of the bite seeped into your blood. Using every ounce of strength you had in you, you pushed back off the wall, forcing the walker to stumble back. Gripping tight to his open jaw you grabbed the zombies skull and slammed it into the nearest thing you could find. The sharp corner of the filing cabinet. Over and over again you bashed the walker's skull into the sharp metal corner until the grunting and gurgling of the monster could no longer be heard. With a dull thud you released the beast and stood shaking, trying desperately to catch your breath as the stinging in your hand was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Reaching above you, you searched for a light source for the first time in only god knew how long. Just when you were certain you would die in the dark, doomed to turn into the very thing that you just slayed, you found a long thin string hanging from a single bulb in the ceiling. Giving the string a quick yank you could have cried when the light clicked to life. A breathy jubilant laugh escaping your lips as you shielded your eyes from the near blinding light that burned your retinas. But the faint dripping of fresh blood reminded you that time was not on your side. Your hand was a mangled mess. The bite forming deep in the meat of your palm you knew the entire hand needed to be amputated and fast. Ripping a thick strip of your shirt from the bottom you tied it off high on your armpit pulling it as tight as you could. Searching the ground you were happy to find your wrench placing it in your makeshift tourniquet you twisted it until the blood stopped and tied it off.

You didn't know how much time had passed since you had been bitten but your entire arm was starting to turn a deep unappealing color and your head was beginning to spin. You had emptied your stomach into the corner of the room several times after the effects of the adrenaline had worn off. You knew one of two things were going to happen... you were either going to die here, trapped in a basement of a house no one would ever find. Or Daryl would find you... he always did... and he would have to kill you. Sweat gathered on your forehead and your stomach flipped. You had no idea if you tied the tourniquet tight enough to keep the infection from spreading... even so, you could simply be dying from sepsis. That was an old world disease wasn't it? God you couldn't even remember. Sitting up against the door you really took in the room for the first time since you got there. The filing cabinet was covered in blood and viscera. But it looked expensive. Like one of those fire safe ones that promised to keep your documents safe even in a whatever class fire. You wondered vaguely what it was doing there before deciding that you didn't have the energy to search through it. The only other things you could see were the pipe that got you into this mess that seemingly went nowhere and were the home of a lonely pair of handcuffs hanging from them, rusted and bloody. Cocking a brow you turned to the zombie laying against the wall on the other side of the filing cabinet. Sure enough the flesh on the walker's one wrist was bloodied and broken. Looked like you weren't the only one shoved in this hell hole to die... lovely. Above the pipe was a vent. Presumably for fresh air to filter in from somewhere within the house you sighed and laid your head back against the wood. Your throat was sore from screaming. But what the hell. Maybe eventually someone would hear you.

Leaning your tired body against the concrete wall directly below the vent you screamed with all your might. Your throat ached and you couldn't help the aching cough that came once your voice started to fail you. For the longest time you received nothing but silence in return. Once in a while the scurrying of mice over what you could only assume were the radiators and vent covers of the empty house echoed through the pipes of the vent sending a jolt of hopeful optimism through you that quickly died out with every pleading cry for help. After a while you gave up. Sliding down the wall you leaned your body against the cold concrete, resigning yourself to death, when finally you heard it. "Hey!" The voice echoed loud and clear through the grate of the vent so loudly that you could had sworn the man screaming was in the same room as you. Listening closely you stood once more, praying that you hadn't just hallucinated the voice or dreamed it into reality as you had seen Rick do a thousand times with his lost loved ones. "[Y/N]! Are you in here?!" Glenn cried out loud and clear, and you could have just just kissed the man had you both not already been sworn to other people. "Glenn!" You screamed, banging the vent as hard as you could to catch his attention. "Glenn can you hear me?!" You nearly begged, clutching a pipe for dear life as you heard footsteps. "[Y/N]! I hear you! Where are you?" Glenn screamed the sounds of footsteps became more frantic. Sounding nearer then farther as he presumably searched room to room for you in the house above you. "I-I'm in the basement Glenn!" You screamed, tears falling from your cheeks easily as you sobbed. "Listen! It's not safe here! There are walkers here!" You heard Glenn's footsteps slow as he listened. "Walkers?" He asked tensely. "Yes! I killed the one that was in the room with me... b-but Glenn-" A loud thud cut you off and you were sure something horrible had happened before Glenn cut you off. "Don't say it... I'm coming to get you... so just... just stay put I'll get you out." Glenn growled, his footsteps becoming more and more distant until they and his voice could no longer be heard. "Wait! Wait!" You cried desperately, tears streaming and washing the dirt and blood from your face in thick streaks. "Glenn! I need you to tell Daryl I love him!" You screamed as loudly as you could, pacing the small space, you suddenly realized just how tiny it really was. Never before had it felt so claustrophobic. Never before had it felt so much like a prison until now. Until you felt so completely isolated. Walking to the thick wooden door you slammed your good hand against it kicking and screaming with all your might praying that maybe it would give way just enough to let you pry your way out and get to Glenn.

"[Y/N]!" His voice froze you in place and melted your heart into pieces breaking you down into heart wrenching sobs that hurt your chest and burned your lungs. Daryl was somewhere outside of the door. You could hear him clear as day. But a greedy part of you never wanted him to find you... The selfish part that knew deep down that Daryl would always want to finish things himself... the one that also knew he could never finish this by himself if he needed too. He just couldn't but he wouldn't allow anyone else to do it and it could endanger everyone... Bu that was why you loved him. He loved and felt so purely. You'd have it no other way. "Daryl!" You sobbed out, hearing a distant banging turn into wood clattering onto concrete you knew that someone had broken down the basement door. And if you had to guess it was Rick or Daryl. "{Y/N]! Darlin' where are ya?" Daryl cried out frantic worry in his voice as, his footsteps paced the concrete just outside the door where you were kept. "There! There's another door." Rick growled, sounding manic and breathless. So it was him who bashed down the last door... "[Y/N] if your in there back away from the door! Rick's gonna break it down!" Glenn cried out making you scramble back from the door in time to see the blade of an axe pierce through the wood. It took six swings for rick to make a sizable enough hole for both he and Daryl to fit through. You noted that it would have only taken three if it were just Glenn and Michonne... but who was counting... Holding your wounded arm as closely to your body as you could you stood shaking, covered in blood and sweat, and shaking like a leaf. Daryl stepped through first, Rick and Glenn following close behind then Michonne. The four stooges... would have been funny under different circumstances. Daryl eyed your injured body a deep frown forming on his face as he stepped closer to you. "Sunshine..." He started, holding out a hand to touch you, but as if on instinct to protect the man you jolted away as if your simple touch would burn him. Shaking your head you let the tears fall, words unable to form as thick sobs got stuck in your throat. "Wha'-" Daryl tried again, desperate to avoid the obvious. Maybe you just cut yourself... maybe it was crushed... hell maybe there was a curse put on you and he could just... fix it! But everyone else knew better. Glenn looked devastated shaking his head and backing away into the extended storage of the basement. Michonne was already unsheathing her sword, looking to Rick for guidance. Rick... He stood stock still, a grim firm look on his face. You could tell he didn't dare say a word until Daryl gave the order to do something... anything... but you... you had to make him understand first. "Baby. I love you more than anything." You started sadly meeting Daryl's eyes. But the archer wasn't just going to take that. No... it couldn't go down like that... not after everything. Not after all this! "So... it's a bite then..." Daryl tried to sound calm, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You could only nod. "Daryl-" You tried to reason with him... tried to explain that he and Glenn should just wait outside. You'd meet him later... that one day he'd wake up with you by his side. But the brunette archer wasn't about to take it laying down. "We'll cut it off." Daryl bit out between gritted teeth turning to Michonne who only looked shocked then sad. "Daryl... fevers set in... you know we need to-" She tried to reason, but Daryl simply shook his head grunting and glaring at the floor like a child throwing a tantrum. "If you don't do it I will." He growled, reaching for the knife he carried with him everywhere, and suddenly fresh adrenaline pumped through your blood making you shake and shiver in both anticipation and fear. Rick sighed shifting his weight. "We do this... and she turns... you're gonna have to be the one who-" Rick muttered, once again cut off by Daryl's grunt and shake of the head. "Won't happen I won't let it." Daryl growled turning to you assuredly.

Michonne tried like hell to make it quick. You'd thought that after so many heads she'd severed that the blade on her katana was as sharp as they made them. It was sharp but despite all of her best efforts, your screaming begging and crying she could not make it go through bone. So despite every ounce of begging you tried. Every time you begged Daryl to just kill you as he held you tight to keep you from moving. It was Rick's axe that freed you from your diseased arm. Your vision blurred, your voice slurred, and everything sounded like you were resting at the bottom of the ocean as you met Daryl's worried eye, the last thing you saw before everything went black.

One Week Later ~~~ Daryl's POV

All the walkers that slipped through the gates had been slaughtered by Rick and the town meeting to decide Rick's fate for his earlier spat with the Dr. had ended with both the town's leader Reg, slayed by the Dr. himself and Dr. Anderson executed by Rick as ordered by Deanna... It certainly felt as if all hell was breaking loose on Alexandria. At the town meeting Rick unloaded on the residents of the town. Telling them all about the torture room the Dr. had set up and how if Alexandria ever truly came under attack the residents would never be prepared for a fight. Rick set up trainings for the residents. A new doctor was put into place, her Dr. Denise. Her first patient, treating the infection that was setting into place in the wound of the unconscious woman that had laid in the medical office for over a week now. Daryl could tell Denise was extremely underqualified for the position. Books upon books of medical texts lain in high stacks around her as she dug for the best treatment melody to give you that wouldn't trip an accidental allergic reaction but also treat the wound, fever, and kill the infection. Daryl watched the timid doctor carefully, placing you on a heavy dose of IV steroids and an even heavier dose of IV antibiotics. "Are you just going to sit there all day..." Denise asked once she had the courage to ask. Daryl shrugged from his seat at the corner of the room. He hadn't planned on leaving yet. As a matter of fact he hardly left your side. "Well as long as your here you can keep yourself busy." Denise huffed, tossing a wet, soapy rag to the very confused archer. "It's time to redress her bandages and give her a sponge bath... figure if you're here you might as well help me bathe her."

There was nothing more intimate than bathing with your partner. Lathering each other's bodies up. feeling the way the warm suds slipped through your fingers as you ran your hands across their most intimate parts. But this... this was different on an entirely new plane of weird. Daryl felt almost like a massive pervert, touching you like this while you slept. But after a few less than gentle reassurances from Denise reminding him that it was crucial to get every bit of you body, he complied, happy to do the work himself, refusing to let another human being get this up close with you in his life. But just as soon as he finished and was certain that the bandages coming off today were actually looking better than they did the day before, he bolted for the door. Refusing to be wrapped in another medical tasks. "Should I leave the office unlocked for you tonight again?" Denise asked making Daryl turn slightly. He wanted to punch the glass out of the stupid door in frustration. He wanted to yell "I'll be back by dinner! She'll be awake and hungry by then." But he simply looked to the floor and nodded feeling a wave of shame and embarrassment wash over him as she sighed. "Ok... I'll set up a pillow and some blankets for you on the couch."

The walk to Aaron's garage was a short one but it was easy to pass up when Daryl's mind felt heavy and weighed down. "Daryl!" The archer heard his friend call out expectantly. Turning on his heel Daryl hummed darting into the garage and finding his seat on the upturned bucket next to his bike. "Hey... you looked lost in though... is everything ok?" Aaron asked tinkering with a wrench and socket joint. "'M fine..." Daryl growled reaching down between his knees to grab a screwdriver. Aaron hummed in return. A calm silence that both knew all too well. Daryl had more so vented to his friend about the entire situation days ago when Rick had to drag him out of the medical bay to let Carol and the Doctor stitch her wound. "Oh! Hey..." Aaron muttered absentmindedly reaching behind himself to pull a large project forward that was covered with a sheet. Pulling the sheet away, a robotic hand sat proudly on a pedestal hooked to various wires and gadgets. Daryl stood slowly, a look of confusion crossing his face as he stepped closer to the counter. "Wha's that?" Daryl asked glancing at Aaron. "Oh I used to work in robotics for a time... I thought it was cool and this was my version of the prosthetic my uncle should have had a chance to have." Aaron muttered taping the wires to the skin of his arm. Squeezing his hand, Daryl watched in amazement as the robotic hand followed and matched Aaron's every movement exactly. "It's all electricity based. The movement and power of the prosthetic comes from the natural electricity found in the body. I could fashion a quick joint to go along with this, just a piston that would lift the arm up and down on swivel for the elbow if you'd think [Y/N] would be interested..." Aaron muttered meeting Daryl's gaze tentatively. The archer couldn't help but smile. "We'll see what she says... but I'm sure she'll love it."

As day turned to night and Daryl bid farewell to Aaron, his belly full after a large supper at his friend's and Eric's house. Daryl strolled the darkened streets of Alexandria wondering, if he'd ever get to do this again with you. Walking into the medical office he was grateful to find the front door unlocked and a blanket and pillow setting out just for him just as promised. But something was off... something was different. Normally when he came to check on you the bed was lying flat for the night, the monitors turned on so whoever came to check you at night could check your heart beat and the lights were off. None of those things happening right now. Your heart monitor had been shut off creating an eerie quiet in the building. Your bed was sitting upright but your body was slumped over the side of the bed. Soft groaning and whining came from you and an intense panic fell over Daryl as he instantly grasped the end of the bed to steady himself. He knew Rick told him... But he hadn't truly believed he'd had too... "Fucking God... Fuck." Your voice, albeit extremely annoyed voice, threw Daryl for a loop. You were alive... More importantly you were a-fucking-wake! Scrambling to your side, Daryl hoisted you back into bed not able to contain the face splitting smile that crossed his features. "Woah there... what are ya doin' Sunshine?" Sunshine... god he'd never thought he'd ever say that word again. "Daryl!" You cried wrapping your arm around your boyfriend. "Thank God you came. I dropped the remote to the bed and it tried to make me into a sandwich!" Daryl couldn't stop the laugh that burst from his chest. kneeling down slowly he picked up the remote, handing it to his love before enveloping her as carefully as he physically could. His laughter slowly turning into heartfelt sobs as you stroked your fingers through his hair. "I should have been here." He whined. "It's ok baby..." You whispered, kissing his crown then his lips tenderly, sweetly. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

[happy74827]

His Ghostly Touch

[Rick Grimes x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: “He was gone, but he was everywhere.”

WC: 988

Category: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort (Takes place during the 6 year time gap // GIF CREDITS: @andy-clutterbuck)

I wrote with a lot of commas this time to represent the emotion involved with this (angsty, I know), but now that I’m re-reading, I actually hate it and I’m too lazy to fix it🧍‍♀️

『••✎••』

You could still hear the way your name fell from his lips as he kissed his way down your neck. His warm hands sliding down over your skin, caressing every part of your body.

You'd always imagined it would be rough. A man like him, in a world like this, would surely be hardened. Yet, the way he made love to you that first time and every night after that was filled with an unbridled passion, a softness and longing that you'd never felt with any other man before.

Rick loved you. Not just with his words but with his body, his touch. It was in the way he smiled at you when you walked into the room. The way his gaze lingered on you when you talked, it was as if the entire world was melting away, and the only thing he could see was you.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

That was the worst part. Loving him was the hardest thing you ever had to do and not a day went by where you didn't think about him, miss him, cry over him. He was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. He was gone, and yet you could still feel him. Everywhere. All around you. You could still hear his voice. Your name on his lips. That raspy tone that would make your knees go weak, his breath tickling your ear.

He was gone, but he was everywhere.

Rick was a good man. A strong man. But even strong men have their breaking point, and he was no exception. You should have seen it coming. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark and filled with pain. He tried so hard to hide it from you. He tried to be strong for you, for his family, for his people, but the truth was that he was tired. He was tired of fighting, tired of losing people, and tired of being in pain.

He carried so much on his back, so much responsibility. You knew it was weighing him down. You knew he needed someone to lean on, someone to share the burden with, and you wanted to be that person for him. You wanted to be his rock, his anchor, his solace. You wanted to take away his pain, to make him smile, to give him hope.

But you failed. You failed him. You let him down. You watched as the man you loved, the man you would die for, the man who was the center of your world, the man who made your heart sing, slipped away.

He smiled at you as he held the gun up, his finger on the trigger. He smiled at you, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. You tried to reach him, to stop him, to save him, but both Carol and Michonne had held you back, their strong arms wrapped around your waist as you fought against them, tears streaming down your face. And then,

Rick had pulled the trigger.

You cried out, the sound of the bridge collapsing filling the air. You screamed his name, and Carol held on to you tighter, pulling you away from the explosion, away from the sight of your husband, your soulmate, your world, dying with the flames.

And then, he was gone.

You'd never felt pain like that before. It was as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest, as if your soul had been torn in two. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but scream. And then you'd passed out, falling into the blackness of oblivion, your last thoughts of him.

Now, months later, you'd finally started to heal. But the pain was still there, a constant ache in your chest, an emptiness that could never be filled. You missed him. Every day, every minute, every second. But you knew he would want you to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living.

That's what you did. You lived for him. For his memory, for his sacrifice. You carried on, doing what you could to help the community, to keep his family safe, to make his dream a reality. You were strong for him because that's what he would have wanted.

And now, here you were, lying in the bed that you had shared, the place that once held so many memories and so much love.

You could still feel him, smell his scent, see his smile. And for a moment, just a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that he was there with you. You closed your eyes and imagined his arms around you, his lips on yours, his body pressed against yours.

You let yourself pretend, if only for a moment, that he was still alive. That he was still there with you. And as the tears streamed down your face, as the ache in your chest grew, as the emptiness threatened to consume you, you whispered his name.

"Rick."

The tears flowed freely as you remembered him. The day you met, the way he looked at you, the way his fingers felt against your skin. The first time you kissed, the first time you made love. The way he made you laugh, the way he made you feel, the way he made your heart sing.

"Rick."

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, like a promise, like a plea. You clung to the memories of him, the pain of losing him, the love you had for him. It was too much. Too much to bear.

You let yourself fall apart, the grief overwhelming you, the loss tearing you apart. You sobbed, the tears coming faster and harder, your body shaking with the force of it.

And in the darkness, in the loneliness, in the grief, you whispered his name one last time before closing your eyes to finally rest.

"Rick."

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl happened to be walking past your cell, coming off another sleepless night where he’d volunteered to take the night shifts because he knew sleep was going to be scarce or altogether unachievable. You were having a dream, or rather a fitful nightmare. He could hear you talking frantically in your sleep and then nearly yelling, trapped in some horrible memory. It was far from peaceful. He hesitated only a moment before he stepped across the threshold and gently grasped your shoulder to wake you. “Hey—s’okay. Wake up,” he said softly.

You awoke with a start and it was then that he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks and the cold sweat beading up on your skin.

“Are ya okay?” he asked softly. His eyes were under a shadowy veil of concern.  Your heart was pounding as if you’d just been sprinting for your life. “I’m not crazy,” you said, fearful of what he would think having obviously heard you making some noise in your sleep. The nightmares had been a lot more regular lately, since a recent scare you’d had outside the walls.

Daryl shook his head, his brow furrowing more deeply. “Ain’t nobody that thinks yer crazy. ya just—ya’ve been through some things that’d stick with anybody. It’s okay.” Hearing him say that was all you needed. You finally were able to pull in a deep breath.

“Ya want me to stay?” he asked nervously.

You bit your bottom lip thoughtfully and then nodded. “If you don’t mind...”

“I dun mind,” he drawled. He was about to sink down in the chair at your little makeshift desk when he realized you were scooting over to make room for him on the mattress. He gulped and set his crossbow down on the floor beside the bed. You were looking at him expectantly. “Ya sure?” he asked, rubbing a hand absently over the back of his neck.

You nodded. “Please. If you’re comfortable with it...”

Daryl cleared his throat and then climbed onto the little mattress next to you. He draped his arm over your waist, hardly believing his own daring. His fingers tickled your back lightly and then stilled. “Ya ain’t crazy,” he said again. “Thanks,” you said. 

He nodded and hummed an “mhm,” hardly believing something so good, laying tucked close against you, came from something so awful—nightmares of bad memories. Prompt: “I’m not crazy.”

[bunwritesss]

Pony-Shaped Hairpins

Summary : You are the happiest person Daryl has ever seen. He has seen you comfort the group plenty of times, finding light in the darkest places and making sure everyone was okay. So when you suddenly lose your smile, he makes sure you get it back.

Genre : Hurt/Comfort ❤️‍🩹

A/N : Hi everyone! This is the first imagine I wrote for AO3, so maybe you already saw it there! Hope you'll enjoy reading it, and as always sorry for the english mistakes! 💕

You had always been full of hope.

Daryl came to notice this fact as he was watching you from afar, laughing with Carl and splashing him with water, as some woman of the group were doing laundry. He had never seen you get angry, and although you always made sure your voice was heard, your words were never used to hurt someone.

He watched you give the young boy one of your toothy grins, the same ones you gave Daryl when he brought your favorite berries back from one of his hunts in the woods, and couldn't help but smile a little himself as well.

And until Alexandria, he thought he would never see you lose your smile.

And this realization bothered him for months after that. When Andrea shot him, you rushed to Daryl's side and stayed calm and kind to her. When he snapped at Carol as she was looking for her daughter, you sternly told him he was being mean and asked him to apologize, but you did not yell at him. You would never. You kept looking for solutions and things to be positive about, pestering him about him manifesting bad things into the world if he didn't try to be more positive. He thought this was the dumbest thing you had ever said, but he would not dare saying it to you.

Hell, even Eugene leading you on about finding a cure to the epidemy and then telling you he lied only made you sad for a few days, forgiving him as soon as he apologized, bringing him in an uncomfortable hug.

When your group arrived, he could sense you get tense. You were all suspicious, as Terminus took a toll on you all, and made you fear communities. And losing so many people in a few days definitely did not help. But he felt like you were even more tense than the rest, probably because Carol, Rick and you were the people he knew how to read the most.

And as you settled with him on the porch, refusing to explore and enter the houses, he realized you weren't just tense. You were not happy to be here. You spent the day sitting with him in silence, sharpening your knives and zoning out, eyes closed. If he was only a bit worried for you before, he was definitely scared now.

'Hey.'

You never shut up. Never. You spent hours talking to him in the Quarry, even when he was closed off, asking him stupid questions about his whereabouts and making silly puns, managing to make him smile once or twice. And the grins that followed his crooked smiles were worth everything in the entire world.

So when he realized you wouldn't speak, he took matter in his own hands. He softly nudged you with his elbow, which did not took you away from your reverie. So he talked.

Daryl was not much of a talker, and you had always give him your full attention whenever he had something to say. And today was no exception. You opened your eyes, turning to him.

'You okay?'

You nodded without conviction, as he readjusted his position to be able to look at you more comfortably.

'You sure?'

'I hate everybody in this community, Daryl.'

'These people will not survive the apocalypse.'

Daryl's eyes widened. This was definitely unexpected, especially after the months he spent hearing you lecture him about the importance of giving second chances to people and the power of love and friendship, or something along the lines. He usually nodded to make you happy because he knew you wouldn't let go of your idea if he didn't agree, but usually let his mind wander around.

He did not know what to say so he kept his mouth shut, and it took a while for you to start talking again.

And you added, lowering your voice.

'And the leader's a dumbass.'

You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. And then you let your head drop on them, sheltering you from the outside world.

'I feel the same, y'know? Yer not alone.'

You slowly turned to Daryl, a slight smile making its way on your lips.

'You do?'

He nodded, his dirty hair covering his face. If you were happier, you would have tucked the strands behind his hair, or threatened him to use one of your glittery hairpins on him, but right now you did not feel like it.

'Feel like a damn dog on a leash here.'

You eagerly shook your head, happy to see someone thought the same as you.

'It feels so weird having to live normally again. I know it's dumb because I spent so many days complaining about missing hot water or coffee, but like... I do not feel at home here. I miss camping and washing myself with wet rags.'

He scoffed at your sentence.

'Ya never made any damn sense.'

You laughed as well. Not one of your happy laughs, the ones that brought light to a whole room, at least, in Daryl's eyes, but a laugh anyway.

'You're right, I don't.'

You glared at a random man watching Daryl and you as if you were animals in a zoo. And to be honest you felt like it, covered in mud and sweat, and missing the forest while they were all judging you and your group. And once he lowered his eyes, you spoke again.

'But these people don't make any sense either.'

He did not say anything, but his eyes told you he agreed with you. So you slowly let your head drop on his shoulder, feeling him tense up for a few seconds, and then relax at your contact. You chuckled. He always did that. You had spent hours resting on his shoulder before, and the familiarity of his body against yours helped making the novelty of this community a little more bearable. And you were convinced he felt the same.

'Daryl?'

He did not respond but you knew he was listening.

'If we're forced to get separate houses, would you want to take one with me?'

Daryl was so thankful your actual position prevented you from seeing his expression of surprise, his flattered smile. The emotion made him all gruff again, and his tone of voice made you smile.

You snorted, and a rare and wide smile graced his face, so thankful he was the one making you laugh again. You raised your hand, tucking a stray strand behind his ear.

'If ya want. Guess it'd be nicer than sharing with one of them.'

'Plus I'm a lovely home decorator.' You teased him. 'You're gonna have the cutest astronomy-themed room in the whole world. Glow in the dark stars everywhere.'

'I'm not gonna let ya step a foot into my room.'

You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended, and he smiled fondly at you.

'Do you want a pony hairpin or a star-shaped one?'

'Maybe sharing with them wasn't a bad idea.'

Actions

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

DAY SIX: Exhaustion w/ Daryl Dixon

a/n: This one is a bit sad and kind of hints at suicidal thoughts? So I would steer clear of this fic if that is something that you're sensitive with :] I admit I got a bit carried away with this one, but boyfriend!Daryl to the rescue!

masterlist | comfortember masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback

What was the point in any of this? Fighting, winning, a short period of peace, and then fighting again. It was a sick cycle, one that you couldn't escape from. You weren't living, you were simply surviving, and your days felt like they were slowly bleeding together. You were tired, mentally, emotionally, and physically, which made you reckless.

The war that raged between Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom, and the Saviors was exhausting, truly having you question whether or not staying alive was worth it. Sitting topless on a hood of a random car, you were cleaning yourself up after taking a pretty gnarly bullet graze to your side that hurt like a bitch. No one had seen you disappear just a few yards away, too busy planning, and helping each other and such. You needed the silence as you sat there, the pain reminding you that you were still human, despite having to push your humanity to the side. You don't know how many people you've killed, how families you've separated just because they were a threat to you and your people.

You constantly wished that it didn't have to be that way, that maybe... that maybe you should have bit the dust when everything first started. You weren't fit to fight; before all of this, you were some chubby loser that stayed at home and avoided conflict as much as possible. You didn't know how to work a gun or knife or how to jack cars and be stealthy. Maybe you should have seen this as an upgrade to your person, but it just wasn't you. You weren't a fighter, you were a lover, and you knew that wouldn't get you anywhere.

In the beginning when you lost Glenn & Abraham, Daryl felt like the only one that could pull you out of the darkness, but now you weren't so sure.

"Hey." Daryl greeted as he walked up beside you. Your body jumped, casting a quick glance to him before turning your gaze away. "Hi." You said quietly. You slipped your soiled shirt back over your head. "I was wonderin' where ya disappeared off too." He sat down on the hood next you, his eyes landing on the blood spot on the material of your shirt. "Ya alrigh'?" He asked, picking at a hangnail on his finger. "Mhm." An awkward air settled over you and your boyfriend.

"Why have ya been shuttin' me out?" Your body tensed, your stomach twisting nervously. "I haven't." Even though you were denying it, he was right, you have been. You were so deathly afraid that he was going to just be another person that you lost, and when he was taken captive by Negan, you pretty sure he was. It wasn't like you to not be all over him, to not tell him what was on your mind, and it was scaring him.

"Ya know yer lyin', so jus' tell me."

And just like that, you were crying, cradling your face in your hands as you sobbed.

"I'm so tired, D. The fights will never stop, people will never stop dying! I can't keep losing people!" He tugged you into his body by your waist, holding you close to him so that you can sob into his chest, your hands clutching onto his shirt tightly. "Sometimes I can't help but think about whether or not staying alive is worth it." You felt him stiffen under you before pulling you back so he could cradle your face.

"Don' say stuff like that. I— I get that you're sick of losin' people, believe I am too. I get it, but we gotta fight so we can live, and in order ta do that, we need ya here, I need ya here. 'Cause I love ya, yer my girl. I ain' goin' no where, and if ya do, I guess 'm jus' gonna have to follow ya then." You spared a wet chuckle, sniffling as you nuzzled into his hard worked palm.

"I love you too, Daryl Dixon." You whispered before leaning up to place a kiss on his lips.

[minervadashwood]

daryl dixon x fem!reader

Note: This is part 2, read part one here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, sexual themes. Dividers: @firefly-graphics Here and here. Notes: There's still pining, but I promise you it's worth it.

Part 2: The Art of Love

Daryl sat bolt upright on the couch, convinced he’d just heard a gunshot. For a second he forgot where he was and tried to figure out the best way to get away from his old man. He reached for a flashlight, but his hand landed on a coffee table, and Daryl realized he wasn’t home but at John’s.  He switched on a table lamp the exact same moment that the bathroom light flicked on.

Daryl thought maybe John had come home early, but it wasn’t John he saw by the bathroom sink. It was you. You clutched a bloody rag in your hand and practically sank to the floor, shaking with sobs. He leapt off the couch, not caring that he was only in his boxers, and ran over to you.

“D-D-Dare?” you choked out, your wet eyes staring up at him. 

His heart stopped. That blood was yours, dripping from your swollen nose, mixing with your tears. Your cheek was cut, too, a jagged wound about two inches long.

He saw red. “Who did this? Who fuckin’ did this to you?” He put his hands on either side of your face, to make you look at him.  Your lip trembled and you sobbed, the sound breaking his heart into a thousand pieces. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, not caring that his voice cracked. He moved hair away from your face, a few strands already caked with blood.  

“Daryl,” you cried, falling into his arms and hanging onto him for dear life. “I’m so scared.”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I got ya, sweetheart. Yer alrigh’ now. It’s alrigh’. I’ll protec’ ya.” From who, he wasn’t sure yet, but once he found out, there would be hell to pay.

He held you against his chest and kissed the top of your head, his primal need to comfort you washing away all his inhibitions. Ugly sobs wracked your precious body, and he tried to absorb each one, wishing he could take the pain away from you and put it on himself.  He started rocking you, and gradually your sobs slowed to sniffles until you eventually cried yourself out. You stayed in his arms, hiccupping and holding onto him. Daryl told himself that he should tend to your wounds, get you clean and patched up, but he couldn’t bear to let go of you, not yet. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

“John! You and that sister of yours better get out here!”

You practically jumped out of your skin with a cry of fear. You put your hand on Daryl’s bare chest and looked at him. “Don’t let him in, Dare. Just ignore him. Please.”

“He ain’t settin’ foot near ya again. I promise ya that.” He framed your face with his hands. “You trust me doncha?”

You nodded, sniffling.”’Course I do.”

“Good girl.” Carefully, he pulled away from you and got to his feet. “You stay righ’ ‘ere. Don’ move ‘til I get back, alrigh’?” 

“Okay.” You wrapped  your arms around yourself and bit your bottom lip.

Daryl closed the bathroom door behind him, and quickly put his jeans on. He didn’t bother with a shirt, that way this fucker wouldn’t have something to grab onto. Merle had taught him that. 

He opened the door and closed it behind him, coming face to face with Blaire Foster.

“The hell you doing here, Dixon? You tell that bitch she owes me for slashing my tire.” “She don’ owe you shit.” Daryl made a fist and punched Blaire in the gut. The other man doubled over, and Daryl kneed him in the face. That preppy fuck put up his hands in surrender, trying to back away. But Daryl wasn’t stupid. He’d keep the guy on the doorstep and kick his ass right by the door. That made it legal.

Merle had taught him that, too.

Daryl grabbed the sick fuck by the collar, yanking him so that they were eye to eye. “I could kill ya for what you’ve done to her, ya know that?”

Blaire had a hand on his chin, right where Daryl’s knee had hit him. That’s when Daryl saw the imprint of your class ring on Blaire’s cheek. The thought of you having to fight your way out of this man’s clutches filled Daryl with a rage he didn’t know he was capable of. He reared back and punched Blaire right on the nose and heard a satisfying crack. Daryl’s fist kept making contact with Blaire’s face until the men started whimpering like a baby.

Daryl let go of Blaire’s now-ruffled collar and shoved him toward the driveway. “You even look at her again, an’ I’ll kill ya.” He watched Blaire stagger his way to that obnoxiously large SUV and get inside. When he finally drove off, Daryl ran back inside, to you.

You sat on John’s bathroom floor, just like you’d promised Daryl you would. You didn’t move except to lock the door, just in case. While you had absolute faith in Daryl, even just the chance that you might come face to face with Blaire again had you shaking.

Despite listening for any signs that Blaire had made it inside, you didn’t hear anything. Before you’d come in to ruin his night, Daryl had been sleeping, that much was clear. He’d only been wearing his boxer shorts while he let you cry in his arms. Despite all your fear and dread, a part deep inside of you flickered back to life as you thought of him holding you again, his chest bare and his arms wrapped securely around you. If only it hadn’t been in these circumstances.

You sat there for what seemed like an hour, but it was truly only a few minutes. You were startled when the doorknob rattled, but Daryl’s muffled voice said, “Jus’ me.” You relaxed and opened the door for him. 

Sitting on your knees you gazed up at Daryl. “Is he gone?”

“He won’ come near ya again, sweetheart.”

There was that petname again, passing from his lips like he’d been calling you that for years. You’d never seen Daryl like this, looking at you with a softness in his eyes that pierced your very soul.

“C’mon, let’s get ya up,” he said, taking the blood-soaked towel from you and then pulling you up by your hand. He sat you on the lid of the toilet seat and squatted in front of you so that you were eyelevel with him.

His hand was still holding yours, and you turned it in your palm, seeing that his knuckles were dripping blood? realized his knuckles were bloody.

“What happened, Dare?” you gasped.

“Ain’t my blood, don’ worry.”

You bit the inside of your lip, realizing that Daryl had protected you, just like he’d promised. And he’d done what you couldn’t, punched Blaire hard enough to send him packing.

Daryl pulled his hand away, but then he took your other wrist--the hand you’d punched Blaire with. His touch was achingly gentle as he traced your ring with his finger while studying your hand. “Ya got a couple broken fingers, doncha? I’ll make ya a splint later,  alrigh’?” 

“Okay,” you whispered, gazing at him. His hair was a mess, dangling around his face in too-long tendrils that needed taming.However, his focus was entirely on you, his eyes flitting from your face to your hand, his frown deepening with every second.

You held your breath as he studied you, the throbbing pain of your nose and the sharp pain in your head fading into the background. Daryl’s nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, his face looking stern and impassive at the same time his hands gently touched you.

Abruptly, he turned away from you and started grabbing stuff out of John’s medicine cabinet and drawers. He lined it all up on the counter, then he grabbed a clean washcloth, wet it with water and soap, and turned to face you again.

“I’ll do my best not ta hurt ya.”

“I know.” 

You’d seen glimpses of Daryl’s gentleness over the years, but this was something else altogether. He took your chin in hand, holding you still as he brushed the cloth on your face. He wiped clean the cut on your cheek first, then he started on your nose. The moment he touched it, pain radiated from the spot, hurting your cheekbones and forehead. A whimper escaped you, and Daryl froze.

“‘M sorry, honey, but I gotta get ya cleaned up.”

“It’s okay, Dare. It didn’t hurt that much. Honest.”

He tried smiling at you, but there was a sadness in his eyes that had your heart aching. “Spendin’ time with all them lawyers didn’ make ya any better at lyin’.”

You chuckled, shocking yourself with the outburst. It hurt, but you caught Daryl’s eye as one corner of his lip lifted and his eyes shone a little brighter.

Daryl took his hand from your chin and ran his fingers through your hair. “‘S good to see ya smile. Blaire didn’ do nothin’ to ya that won’t heal up in a coupla weeks. Jus’ be brave for me.”

“Anything for you, Dare.”

“Tha’s my girl.”

He went back to cleaning your face again, and though it hurt, all you could think about was how much you loved him and how much you wished he loved you back. Each of his gentle touches felt like love, like he was caring for something precious and irreplaceable.

 In one way, you were so very grateful you weren’t going through this alone, but at the same time what Blaire had done to you didn’t seem to matter at all right now. What mattered was Daryl and being with him like this, both of you exposed and vulnerable, sharing soft touches and quiet words.

You started shivering, despite the warmth in your belly, but you tried to hide it.

“Yer shakin’ like a leaf,” Daryl murmured, now disinfecting your cheek and putting a bandage on it. “Goin’ into shock.”

“Am I gonna pass out or somethin’? If so, I’d rather not do it while sittin’ on the shitter.”

“Ya ain’t gonna pass out. Jus’ the fight goin’ outta ya an’ yer body calmin’ down.”

“Daryl?”

He paused and met your gaze.

“You promise Blaire didn’t hurt you?”

“He barely touched me. But I ain’t gonna say he didn’t hurt me. ‘Cause seein’ ya like this….”

“Like what?”

Daryl cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. “Yer nose ain’t broken, jus’ bruised is all.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Mmm.” He stood up and started putting away  all the first aid supplies. 

He put a hand on each of your shoulders and said, “Get up now.”

You stood, and his hands went down your arms, squeezing the soft flesh there reassuringly.  Then, he ducked his head and started untying the oversized flannel shirt that was around your waist. He shook it out and set it on the counter.

“Ya best get out of that dirty top and put that on instead. Then sit yerself down on the couch an’ put the TV on. It’ll keep ya distracted.”

You nodded dumbly, not quite sure how to process this assertive side of Daryl. He acted like he was an expert on this whole thing, and his tone brooked no argument.

He left you alone in the bathroom again, and you pulled off your ruined v-neck t-shirt and stepped out of your jeans. The flannel button up was too large for you--you’d bought it for that very reason--yet it felt nice as the warm fabric swallowed you up and hung down to your knees. 

Before going to the couch like you were told, you slipped into John’s bedroom. 

While your brother wasn’t exactly skinny, he wasn’t curvy either. As you rummaged through his clothes, you heard Daryl doing something in the kitchen.  You sank onto the edge of the bed and sighed. Your hopes of finding a pair of shorts that might fit you were dashed. Not even his joggers or stretchy athletic shorts would go up past your hips.

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt and realized you weren’t showing any more leg than you might when wearing a summer dress or one of your suit skirts to work. Like Daryl had said, the fight was going out of you, and that apparently meant your fashion sense, too. You found yourself too tired to care, so you left John’s room and found your way to his couch. 

By the time Daryl had come out of the kitchen, you had turned on John’s TV and found an old movie playing on one of his stolen cable channels. Cary Grant ran around the screen, making wide eyes for the camera and chasing after Katherine Hepburn. But when Daryl walked in, all your attention was on him. He was carrying a tray of food over, and right away you realized he’d warmed you up your favorite soup and poured you a glass of water.

“Dare, you didn’t need to do all this for me.”

He put the food down on the coffee table, next to you, then he sat on the other end of the couch. He never looked your way, and his eyes were now staring straight at the TV. 

“This the one with the tiger?” he murmured.

You picked up the bowl of soup and watched him as you blew on the hot meal. “It’s a leopard.”

“Smartass.” His gaze flickered to you, a smirk on his lips, making you smile, but he quickly looked away to stare at the TV again.  

You watched as Daryl made himself comfortable on the couch, sinking deep into the cushion and spreading out his legs. “Manspreading” they called it in your HEAS group. Sometimes men on the public bus would do this, driving you bonkers when the bus was already cramped. But you didn’t mind seeing Daryl do it. It gave him an air of dominance and masculinity that set your heart beating quickly in anticipation.

Not that Daryl noticed. He sat there, legs spread wide, biting his thumb with all his attention riveted on Cary Grant.

Your stomach rumbled, so you started eating your soup and sipping on your water. When you finished, you set the tray on the coffee table and noticed a blanket on the couch. Wrapping it around yourself, you rested your head on the armrest and let your eyes drift closed.

Daryl struggled not to gape at your legs, your thick, gorgeous thighs peeking out from under your shirt. The thoughts he was having were worse than the ones from this morning, a phenomenon he didn’t know was possible until this moment.

You’d had the shit beaten out of you, and yet all he could think of was your thighs wrapped around his waist, or his face buried  in their apex with his mouth sucking the life out of you.

He forced himself to look away, but the image of your thighs pressing together, moving subtly as you ate your soup had him hard in an instant. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not with you all vulnerable like that. But he couldn’t get thoughts of you out of his mind. All he wanted was to hold you close again. He didn’t even need to kiss you or put his hands all over you, anything like that. But he did feel like he needed your soft warmth gathered up in his arms, your breath arcing across the bare skin of his chest.

But even that felt like asking too much.

He forced himself to focus on the movie, watching the two idiots chase a leopard from one place to the next. If it’d been him, Baby would’ve been already trapped and on her way back to the zoo. Did anyone on this movie even research feline predators? All you needed was some quick moving prey and the giant cat would’ve been locked up in no time.

The movie ended and another began, this one Arsenic and Old Lace, and from the corner of his eye, Daryl noticed you covering yourself up with his blanket and resting your head on the arm of the couch. It was good that you felt like sleeping. He knew you had to be tired from all that had happened, and to see you relaxed enough to close your eyes made him relieved, happy even.

The world was quiet, and your body was drifting off into oblivion when suddenly your nose was hitting the dashboard again. You jerked awake, sweating and breathless, and with no sense of your immediate surroundings.

Something--someone--grabbed your hand and started rubbing your knuckles. You looked up to find Daryl watching you as he slid closer to you on the couch.

“C’mere,” he whispered, pulling you to sit against him as he wrapped his arm around you. “I gotcha. Yer alrigh’.”

“I’m sorry,” you said in a quiet voice, but as Daryl held you close, you no longer meant that apology. His strength and warmth wrapped around you, and you felt at home nestled against him, his heartbeat thumping in your ear.

“You sure this is alright?” you whispered, worried that you might be invading his space.

“It’s more’n alrigh’,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “‘Sides, yer bein’ too stingy with this blanket.”  He rearranged the soft blanket so that it now covered both of you. Then he took your injured hand and rested it on his stomach, keeping it from being accidentally squished as he held you.

You’d dreamed and hoped of Daryl holding you like this a million times before, but to have it happen didn’t have you swooning like you’d expected. Instead, it just felt right. Complete. Like this was how it was supposed to be with him all the time.

You wanted to confess your feelings to him, to tell him you loved him and wanted to be with him always. But what if he still didn’t feel the same? What if he still wasn’t ready for that? It would be so incredibly selfish of you to take advantage of his kindness, his gentle affection. So you wouldn’t. Daryl didn’t deserve that from you, especially not after all he’d done to take care of you in the past two hours. You nestled close to him and closed your eyes. This time you fell asleep peacefully.

After you went to sleep, Daryl watched you until his own eyes drifted closed. He didn’t wake up until sometime later when he felt you stirring in his arms. You sat up a bit, and he blinked sleep from his eyes as he watched you by the light of the television. 

“I should let you go,” you said. “So you can get a good night’s sleep.” 

You started to pull away from him, but Daryl instinctively pulled you back against him. Tendrils of hair fell over his eyes, but he met your gaze with his own, silently begging you not to leave him. He squeezed your shoulder, but then he froze, stricken silent as you lifted your hand. 

Your fingers gently moved his hair from his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. He held his breath as your gentle touch traced along the edge of his ear then toyed with the ends of his hair. 

“I’ve put you out enough,” you said, voice soft. “You take the bed. I’ll stay out here.”

For a moment he was lost in your touch, still frozen in place, heart pounding in his chest. He wanted this, but he wanted so much more, not just your fingers, but your hand, your arms, your lips, every part of you. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever, protect you from Blaire, from the whole world if he had to. He wanted the rest of his life to be like this--minus your injuries--with you both falling asleep right next to each other and waking up the same way. 

He only managed to say, “Don’t,” letting his voice finally convey the longing he felt.  

You let his hair slip through your fingers. His body practically screamed at the loss of your touch.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked 

He knew what it meant to hurt, deep inside and on every part of his body.  He’d bear each hurt willingly, if it meant you’d be his. You could hurt him a thousand times over, and he’d still love you. But what he could not bear was this addiction. If you touched him again--gently, lovingly, like he mattered--he knew he’d spend his whole life in turmoil, wanting--needing--your touch, again and again.

You pulled your hand away, and he grabbed your wrist, his reflexes reacting before he could tamper them. He gently pulled on your arm, bringing you back to him, but even closer now. His other arm found the small of your back, turning you slightly so that your breasts and belly pressed against his body, all those soft, wonderful curves making him yearn and need in a way he never thought possible.   

His other hand still held your wrist. He brought your hand to his face, close to his lips. Taking a deep breath, he pressed a kiss to your index finger.  His gaze stayed on your hand, its trembling fingers the only part of you he was brave enough to look at. He kissed your middle finger, then your ring finger, hearing little sighs escape your mouth.  He grew braver with each second that passed and you didn’t pull your hand away. After kissing each fingertip, he held your hand, guided it back to the nape of his neck and placed it there.

His heartbeat did not let up, but somehow, he moved slowly, uncertainty and longing warring within him. You threaded your fingers in his hair once again, and the fingertips he’d just kissed caressed his scalp. He stifled a moan of need--that innocent touch alone setting him on fire.

He forced himself to raise his eyes, to look at you. What he found shook him to his core. 

On your face was a blissful smile. Your eyes met his and they shined with happiness. The sight was so beautiful that for a moment he forgot about your bruised nose and cut cheek. Instead, he saw his whole life in your smile, all the years before and the years yet to come. 

How selfish it was of him to want more than this moment. 

“You best be goin',” he whispered, voice wavering.

“Then let go of me.”

He held you tighter.

“You want this, too?” you asked.

Daryl almost felt like he was floating, lost in a dream. The only thing keeping him anchored was your weight on top of him and your hand in his hair.

“Daryl?” you whispered.

His free hand reached for your nape, mirroring your touch, but going farther and angling your head toward his mouth. 

“Ain’t right what I want. The way I wanna hold ya, kiss ya, make ya mine. Ain’t right.”

“What if I want that, too?”

He whispered your name, voice cracking. “Don’ say shit ya don’ mean.”

You shifted, lining your body up with his until you were almost in his lap. “You said yourself I’m no good at lyin’.”

“I don’ wanna hurt ya, sweetheart. Not after what ya been through.” His voice was shaky.

You cupped his jaw and forced him to look at you. “Daryl Dixon, I have been yours since I was in the seventh grade, and I have spent the last decade and half waiting for you to realize that. Whether it’s tonight, tomorrow night, or a year from now, however long I have to wait, I’ll always be yours. I promise.”

His heart beat so fast, he almost expected it to burst out of his chest and fly across the room. At the same time, your words soothed his soul, wrapping around the broken pieces of himself and tying them back together. 

He cleared his throat, and slowly closed the distance between you to press his lips to your forehead. A gentle sigh escaped your lips, and he kissed you again, this time on your unmarred cheek, and finally the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, Dare,” you breathed. 

He was ready to let you go, but then you closed your eyes and kissed him right on the mouth.

Daryl could not hold onto you tight enough as your lips molded to his own. He kissed you back like he’d never kissed anyone before. His whole life spread out before him, and there you were in every part of it, every secret corner and every forgotten wish. He found it all in your kiss.

All too soon you pulled away, but just enough to look him in the eyes.

He took in every detail of your face, from the small crinkles in your smiling eyes to all the bruising and hurt you’d endured tonight, and he found himself gazing at you in wonderment. 

You said, “Didn’t you know? All those times I watched you working on bikes and cars? All the times I followed you and John around like a lovesick puppy? Chasing after you? Asking you to the bar?”

Daryl could scarce believe your words. By the time you were old enough for him to see you for the woman you were, you’d gone off to college. When you got back, all you dated were those college boys with their creased slacks and polo shirts and BMWs. Men so unlike Daryl that they may as well be another species altogether.

And all that time you wanted him?

His thumb traced your bottom lip. “‘M sorry ‘bout what happened to ya,” he murmured. “If I’d gone with ya like ya asked…” then you would’ve never been hurt in the first place. If he’d said yes a year ago, two months ago, nothing like this would’ve happened to you.

“Oh, honey,” you sighed,  “it’s not your fault. Not my fault. It’s Blaire’s fault. Besides, I’m not sorry it happened, not now. Are you?”

Daryl kissed you again, then peppered the uninjured parts of your face with soft pecks. “Can’t say that I am,” he admitted. He cupped your jaw and grazed his thumb on your cheek. “‘M still gonna knock ‘im on his sorry ass next time I see ‘im. Time after that, too. Get to be he won’ know up from down.”

“Alrigh’, Dare, you do that. “Don’t forget to thank him for me, though. ‘Cause kissing you made it all worth it.”

Daryl kissed you again, and again, and each time you met him where he was. Throughout the night, you both got lost in each other until you fell asleep, holding onto each other until morning.

The End (?)

Thank you for reading. I hope you found some joy and comfort in this story!

I have a possible epilogue in mind, but it requires me to do something that I find super difficult to do, which is to write a sex scene. I want to see what kind of response this story gets before I put myself through that struggle. If I feel like people are supporting me, my motivation and self confidence to write such a scene will make it less daunting. So please let me know your thoughts and wishes! 🙏🙏

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[griefbacon]

‘I had her first’

Daryl Dixon x reader

Description: hurt comfort, jealousy, overprotective, fight scene

Copyright © griefbacon 2023. All rights reserved. This is original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

She/they reader pronouns :)

The group had found Alexandria, a safe place to stay for at least awhile. She had met Daryl while still dating Xander. They hadn’t gotten close until after Xander and her had broken up. They started going on patrols and supply runs together, getting more and more frequent as days went on. Soon it wasn’t jobs anymore, it was walking around the forest, sharing food, laughing, everything. Daryl had asked them out almost 7 months since they started hanging out. Since then Xander had been insufferable, he was always in their business, practically stalking the couple, until one day emotions boiled over.

“ Say it again, I dare ya’ ”, Daryl inched closer to Xander. They couldn’t see his face, but the icy tone in his voice gave them a clear picture. “ I said that I had her first and you ain’t nothin’ ”, Xander spat, getting in Daryl’s face.

“ Daryl come on, let’s not do this ”, Rick interrupted, gesturing to them both. It was silent between the two men, neither breaking eye contact. It looked like a fight between wild animals, the snarls and grunts telling the other they were not going to back down. Rick’s attempt to defuse the situation wasn’t working, at all, yet he tried again,” Daryl, don’t do this, it’s not worth the trouble”. It was over when Xander piped in ,” listen to your master, dog ”, a silent ‘shit’ came from Rick.

A fist connected to his jaw and a fight broke out. I backed away from Daryl over to where Michonne was standing, she put a hand on my shoulder, still watching with wide eyes. I stared in shock at the sight before me, other men had jumped into action trying to pry them off of each other with yells from both groups. They dragged them off of each other, Daryl shoved them off of him and trudged into the woods while Xander was brought into a house to cool off.

Daryl had disappeared into the woods, Carol put her arm over their shoulder,” let him cool off, come on, let’s get you something to drink ”. She led her away from the scene, as they looked back towards the woods with worry.

They sat on their porch, swinging their feet off the side of the porch in thought. Mind swirling with thoughts of Daryl and his wellbeing.

Daryl walked out of the woods with a skinned and cleaning rabbit in his hand. He spotted them immediately, he always did. His face burned with embarrassment, ashamed of not keeping his cool earlier. He stomped past them.

“ Daryl? “, he stopped, she looked at him with concern as he turned around to look at her, grunting in acknowledgment. They walked towards him, holding his face in her hands she stared intently. He was bruised and battered, they rubbed their thumb over dried blood, scraping it off in the process. “ Are you okay? How are you feeling? “, she asked softly, worry lacing her words. Daryl avoided her gaze in favor of staring at the ground, shifting on his feet.

“ M’fine “, he said, nonchalant, she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “ Come on, let me clean you up “, they grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. He trailed along after them, cheeks still hot from embarrassment.

They ran the water, fiddling with the knobs to get the temperature just right as Daryl watched from his seat on the counter. He couldn’t help but feel slightly dizzy at the thought of her cleaning him. She turned to him ,” strip and get in the bath, I’ll clean you “, they left the bathroom, clicking the door shut, he stripped, settling into the bath. The heat soothed his aching muscles as he relaxed.

They knocked at the door, calling to him. He grunted as a sign to come in. She clicked the door open, holding a towel, wash cloth, and different clothes he could wear. She sat the clothes and towel on the sink tenderly before turning to him with the cloth. Getting on their knees, wetting the cloth in the water and lathering it with soap. She goes to wash him but hesitates, Daryl’s face was flushed as he gave her a slightly confused look, “ is it okay if I touch you? “, his heart skipped a beat, it was a simple gesture, asking for consent, but he couldn’t help but melt. He nodded, she grinned ,” okay, at any point tell me if you get uncomfortable in any way “.

They washed him, scrubbing away the built up grime and sweat on his body. She periodically checked on him, making sure he was still okay and not uncomfortable, to which he nodded. She washed his hair, using their nails to massage his scalp ,” Daryl? “, he barely registered his name as he peeked open his eyes to look at them. “ Hmm? “, they stopped scrubbing his scalp ,” Daryl tell me how you feel, tell me what happened “, his face scrunched at the memory, not wanting to think about it. “ Please? I’m worried about you “, he sighed and caved in ,” I’ got angrier the more he spoke about ‘chu, saying how he had you first, it.. didn’t feel good’ “.

Her face saddened at him, he was so clearly insecure, how did she not see it sooner. They brought his face to hers and kissed his forehead tenderly. Daryl leaned into it, enjoying the intimacy, they pulled away, Daryl subconsciously chasing their touch. They cradled his face in their hands ,” whether or not he ‘had me first’, you have me now, I love you, I adore you, I have no interest in him anymore, you are my focus, the apple of my eye “, he stared into their eyes, searching for, something, he wasn’t sure what.

They kissed him again, bringing him closer, it was long, meaningful, it wasn’t about the kiss, it was about their love for each other, the whole reason she was bathing him, sitting with him at the camp, laying by his side at night, they loved him. They pulled away, Daryl had stars in his eyes, that told him everything he needed to know.

“ Are you ready to get out of the bath? “, he nodded, allowing her to help him out of the bath and handing him a towel. She unplugged the drain, watching the dirty water wash away. She dried his hair and brushed it, untangling the knots being careful not to pull too hard. They helped him into some comfortable clothes and led him to bed.

They crawled into bed together, Daryl laid his head on her chest, listening to her heart beat. “ I love you Daryl ”, he heard her sleepy voice say, he reared his head up and kissed her on the cheek,” love ya’ too “, he laid his head back down, feeling secure in the arms of his lover, his reason to keep going.

They ran the water, fiddling with the knobs to get the temperature just right as Daryl watched from his seat on the toilet. He couldn’t help but feel slightly dizzy at the thought of her cleaning him. She turned to him ,” strip and get in the bath, I’ll clean you “, they left the bathroom, clicking the door shut, he stripped, settling into the bath. The heat soothed his aching muscles as he relaxed.

They knocked at the door, calling to him. He grunted as a sign to come in. She clicked the door open, holding a towel, wash cloth, and different clothes he could wear. She sat the clothes and towel on the sink tenderly before turning to him with the cloth. Getting on their knees, wetting the cloth in the water and lathering it with soap. She goes to wash him but hesitates, Daryl’s face was flushed as he gave her a slightly confused look, “ is it okay if I touch you? “, his heart skipped a beat, it was a simple gesture, asking for consent, but he couldn’t help but melt. He nodded, she grinned ,” okay, at any point tell me if you get uncomfortable in any way “.

They sipped their tea, hanging her legs off of the porch in thought. Daryl still hadn’t got back yet, their mind swirling with worry.

Daryl walked out of the woods, he held a skinned and cleaned rabbit. He noticed them, but embarrassment kept him from walking inverted and checking on her. They looked up, hearing heavy footsteps practically running away from them.

“ Daryl? “, he froze in his tracks, turning to them, grunting in acknowledgment. “ Are you okay? How are you feeling? “, they abandoned their tea on the porch in favor of walking to Daryl, examining him. His face was bruised and battered, dried blood crusting off when she brushed over it with her finger. Daryl’s face burned from the attention they were giving him, still not used to her eyes on him.

“ m’fine “, he brushed their hand away, reluctantly, face still red from the contact. She stared intensely at him, he couldn’t help but avoid her gaze and shifted his feet. It was silent for awhile before she spoke ,” let’s get you cleaned up “, they grabbed his hand, leading him to the house.