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cultofdixon · 2 years ago

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In a past life it was yours, the present is mine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • At the line up it was revealed your family history, in the future it won’t be used against you, but for now? You have to change the problem from the inside out or all those you love will perish • ANGST/SFW • TW: Past Mental Abuse / PTSD / Trauma / Anxiety / Canon Violence / Depression • Canon re-written

Requested by: Anon

“Well, let’s meet the man shall we?” The right hand to the mystery man says with a smirk as he approaches the RV.

The archer turns to his other half seeing her keep a calm exterior even if the inner feelings spilled in tears.

I’ll always keep you safe Y/N Daryl mouths to her watching her nod smiling through the tears as both of their attention snapped back to what’s in front of them.

As the tension grew in the woods and the creek of the RV door opens followed by whistling that drove chills down their backs. The man stepped out and instantly locked eyes with the archer’s partner, standing there for too long as neither of them said a word. Until a smirk brought itself on his face as he grabs his right hand by the collar pulling him close to tell him something.

Then you know the rest…

As Negan drags Rick into the RV after killing two of their own. Abraham and Glenn. The right hand that is named Simon approaches the group as the vehicle disappears.

“Take the girl” Simon states watching two saviors come up behind Y/N grabbing her by the arms. “Take the hits and scratches, guys. She’s just a little thing anyway”

“Wait WAIT!” Maggie yells watching her friend getting taken as Daryl tried rising to his feet again when Dwight hit him in the back of the head with the blunt end of his crossbow.

Y/N froze watching such as it made it easier to drag her body to one of the trucks. The bigger man out of the two practically tossed her into the back of the van and was immediately pistol whipped by Simon.

“Best I do somethin’ before boss man puts a bullet in your head” Simon scoffs shutting the doors after pushing the guy of the way. “Take her back to the Sanctuary. She don’t need to see what else the man’s gotta do”

And with that the van left, leaving the group confused…Maggie hurt even further and Daryl livid. They didn’t understand why Negan ordered such to happen. Hell they don’t even know when that was ordered. His hushed side conversations were so short because he had other business to attend to.

How…how could he

How could he do this

To me

The drive was long, at least it felt like such. Y/N didn’t know where she was going or who else she would be dealing with but during the unknown period she simply cried. Cried over her deceased family and over the fear of losing the man she loves.

Soon the doors to the back opened and no one was forcing her out of the vehicle until a blond woman came. She grabbed Y/N by the arm and let the girl scratch at her or try to pull away but the grip she had on her? Good luck.

“Where are you taking me?!”

Nothing

“I demand to know!”

Again, nothing

“What is he going to do to my family?!” Y/N snaps before getting shoved in a room as the woman stood at the door a second.

“Family? This is your family, dollface” and the door shut, locking from the other side.

Y/N immediately went toward the door and started pounding against it, screaming out for anyone to let her out. Then she started to look for something to pick the lock with but as she searched the room she was in…it took a second to realize it was a room and not a cell. She decided to look around in hopes she’d find something to help her escape.

Instead she was met with her past.

How come yea never talk about your old life?

I told you a lot. What specifically?

Everybody’s got a family. You never said anythin’ bout that

Guess I’m just. Never ready to talk about it

I don’t think I’ll ever be, even now Y/N frowns holding a picture frame in her hands and the sound of keys jingling startled her to grab something heavy.

When the door opened and Negan stepped through, he quickly dodged the jar of pickles Y/N had grabbed as it hit one of his saviors behind him instead of him.

“Still got a hell of a throw”

Nothing

“How long have yea been with these people?” Negan asks watching her tense and retract at every step he took, inevitably stopping. “You have no idea how long I’ve been lookin’ for you” he snapped for one of his own to close the door to give them more privacy as Y/N immediately shoved him away.

“Why”

“Listen—-“

“WHY!” She yelled loud enough for those standing outside the door, even if the walls were thick. “WHY DID YOU BECOME THIS MONSTER?!”

“Princess, please—-“

“No! You killed my best friend. You don’t get to ‘princess’ me, dad. You took me away from my family…you killed those of MY FAMILY”

“IM YOUR FUCKING FAMILY” Negan finally yells back in her face watching her cower, making him step back taking in the sight to memory. “I’m your blood. You’re my daughter and my family. At least what’s left of it”

“I was your bastard child when you were a teenager…you only cared cuz I got stuck in your care. Then you met Lucille and I was already out of the house…you cut the line there. You moved on but even then…you still went back to your old ways.” Y/N frowns feeling the tears roll off her cheeks. “Now you’re just worse. A monster that put the woman you loved’s name on a bat that killed those important to me…where do you get off”

Before Negan could say another word, Dwight opened the door abruptly which was a big no-no on his part.

“Hey we got Daryl in one of the cells. What’s the next—-“

“What? WHAT” Y/N pushed Negan out of the way as he quickly grabbed at her arm only for her to pull with all her force. He tightened too hard that he heard a crack and instantly let go resulting in her shoving Dwight over like it was nothing and going through the halls.

No one was touching her

Or at least weren’t allowed to intervene

Unless she tried to escape…or help someone escape.

The banging on his cell door gave his position away as Y/N was stopped by the brute guarding his door. But she had about enough in the moment.

“Move out of my way”

“I can’t do that princess”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Or Wha—-“ He was instantly cut off by her leg swung right in between the legs hitting the family jewels hard enough for him to drop. Giving her a window to go for his knife and threaten to cut his throat open the second those chasing her approached.

“Jesus Christ. This is your blood?” Dwight scoffs stepping back every second their eyes locked.

“She’s definitely Negan’s daughter” Laura laughs at the sight watching Negan step closer not giving a single fuck if Y/N took the man’s life.

“It’s best to let him go. Wouldn’t want to be like me right?”

Y/N felt instant regret for her actions after he said such. She slowly released the knife as the guy quickly pulls away bringing himself behind Negan.

The man stood there for a while staring down at his child while his people stand behind him in fear of both Smiths. Then a pain brought itself in his chest watching her cower when he tried to simply step forward and help her up.

A small child took her place sitting there on the floor as he stood before her in his early twenties with a suitcase in one hand and a ticket in the other.

The two locked eyes and he turned around closing the door behind him. Never turning back.

“You get five minutes. But I’m not letting either of you go” Negan frowns opening the door to Daryl cell as he was about to fight whoever opened it when he saw Y/N and Negan on the other side.

The two were soon closed in the cell for privacy with a lantern for the light. Y/N frowns looking at Daryl after just telling him about who her father is and why she hasn’t told him or anybody. It’s not like she knew about his dictatorship in the old world, just knew the man as someone who wanted nothing to do with her as a child and when she became an adult he had already moved on.

“He…we gotta get out of this shithole”

“I don’t think that could happen without a window…or a bullet in one of us”

“From how he wanted yea at the line up, doubt he’d hurt yea”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you” Y/N frowns bringing herself close expecting Daryl to reject her after finding out of her bloodline.

But the archer carefully took her face into his hands wiping away the tears that suddenly sprung from her waterline.

“He may not hurt yea sunshine, but he can still break you”

Before another word could be shared, the door sprung open and Y/N was suddenly grabbed pulling her out of the cell as Daryl tried to use that as a window but was met with his own crossbow aimed at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare hurt him” Y/N thrashed against the grasp two saviors had on her as they lessen their grip when Negan glared at them. “You lay a hand on him and I will make you fucking regret taking me too”

Negan glared at his daughter before turning back to the archer and his people keep him in. He shoved Dwight back before shutting the door and locking Daryl in there. No more words were exchanged but all he did was grab Y/N by the bicep leading her to the rooms and locking her in a new one.

________

“How come yea never talked about your family?” Daryl frowns joining Y/N on the porch of their new home. “Ever since we got here you’ve been extra quiet so I’m just assumin’ what the subject matter is”

“I just. Never experienced this niceness before. Like when y’all found me in the woods outside the prison? I had just gotten lost after seeing where my dad had lived all my life without me”

The sadness grew in his expression as he noticed hers barely shift, she’s accepted it a long time ago…but the pain will always be there.

“He had me as a teenager and my mom just gave me to him then fucked off. So he struggled for four years with the help of grandma, then one day I was seated on the carpet watching him pick up a suitcase and walk out the door.” Y/N frowns hugging herself as she kept her gaze to the floor. “It’s a mess of a story. Raised by my grandma, left at 18, heard years later he remarried and didn’t care about my existence further, his wife found out about me and met me in private…then the outbreak happened later and I went to see if they were alive because I had their address for the longest time…and all there was was a house in ruins”

“I’m sorry, sunshine”

“If he’s…still out there and our paths cross…I don’t think I’d want to be on this rock anymore”

________

Daryl kept banging on his cell door for what felt like days. Granted…it was. To be real with what’s going on in Daryl’s mind, he thought he would be beaten to a pulp at this point. Or put through even worse, mental abuse of some kind.

They’ve been treating him well?

His wound

Keeping him fed

He doesn’t quite understand it until Dwight opened the cell one night to give him a sandwich and decided to talk.

“Your woman almost ripped me a new one when I tried to feed yea dog food. She’s takin’ everything like a champ though…with a dad like that.” Dwight laughs. “Everything I had of yours, she almost killed me for. But daddy will do anythin’ to get her to smile. Even if she cries most nights”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this”

“You ain’t dead because she’s doing everything Negan asks of her. Her reward? We don’t hurt you” Dwight states before making his leave and shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Y/N laid in the bed given to her, in the room made just for her. She kept staring at the ceiling dressed in a black dress that someone pointed out was made for pointing out Negan’s wives. But that was shot down by Simon who was assigned to keep her at the Sanctuary and to be honest? Neither of them were happy about it.

“Yo! Princess, boss man wants yea” Simon knocks on the door as Y/N sighs bringing herself to the edge of her bed slipping her boots on before leaving the room.

The two walked to the conference like room and found a head on the table, an anxious Dwight, and an angry Negan.

“Good luck princess” Simon whispers to Y/N, leaving the room laughing.

The annoyance on her face grew, but immediately changed to anger and worry.

“Daryl escaped” Negan snapped the second he locked eyes with his kid. “Who did it.”

“I’ve been with you and in my room almost every hour of every day. Your GOON here doesn’t let me anywhere near Daryl’s fucking cell. Even when he’s not on watch” Y/N gave back the same energy her dad was producing. “You’re always so controlling of everyone around here but what happens when your eyes aren’t glued on your fucking prisoner. He escapes on his GODDAMN OWN”

In a split second, with no thinking before actions made, Negan grabbed her by the throat and forced her against the wall as the thud echoed in the room but the alarming sound was the crack that came from her skull when she made contact. Tears instantly started to stream down her cheeks as she held onto his wrist feeling his grip loosen while her eyes slowly fluttered open after the impact made them shut tight.

Daddy please don’t go

The leader of the saviors suddenly pulled away making her drop to her knees as she instantly pressed her hand to the back of her head noticing the blood on her hand when she retracted.

“You’re just…the same fucking monster…I’ve always known” Y/N sobbed through broken words as Negan towered her unable to move or breathe for the matter. Dwight looked at him a bit confused but a wave of concern came over him as he brought himself to Y/N not caring if she protested.

“Come on. We’ve got a doc” Dwight helped her to her feet directing her out of the room, glancing back to see Negan in his frozen state.

“Daddy please don’t go” The four year old cried hugging onto her father’s leg as Negan drags her agaisnt the carpet before forcefully shaking his leg to get her to fall on her butt.

The tears broke out as she sat on the carpet right in front of the main door.

“I…I can’t do this” Negan frowns picking up his suitcase after slipping on his jacket. “I never should’ve had you”

The pout that grew on the little one’s face as the tears streamed down her cheeks while no more sound escaped her.

“I never should’ve left you…” Negan whispers to himself while his own tears rolled off his cheeks.

It’s been days with nothing going on…nothing…not even a visit from his saviors to communities they have under their thumbs. If you were new to one? You wouldn’t be able to tell they were controlled by someone unless somebody told you. But even then, they didn’t collect every other week. Didn’t threaten anymore people.

Nothing happened. Then the radio gave off receiving static.

“Rick. We gotta talk”

Rick looks at his radio with concern before looking across the table at his partner as Michonne shared the same concern but was also littered with confusion and doubt. This could be a trap of some sorts.

While Negan may have done nothing. The group had gotten to work on lessen the Savior population (once Daryl returned) by attacking more outposts with the help of the Kingdom, the Hilltop, and few Oceanside…it was top priority while certain few wanted to get their person back.

“He could’ve killed her by now” Daryl frowns sitting with Maggie on the steps of the Barrington House as they all decided it be smart for him to stay there in case if they did look for him.

“She’s his daughter. He wanted her, I doubt he would’ve killed her…but something still could’ve happened” Maggie didn’t mean to plant anything in Daryl’s mind, granted he was already thinking of such, but it was overwhelming. When Daryl returned and Negan’s first visit to Alexandria, everyone Y/N was close to found out that she’s Negan’s daughter. It brought a lot of mix feelings but even with certain negative ones, everyone collectively agreed they wanted to get her back safely.

“Daryl…you think that Rick would hurt her?”

“What.” Daryl says sternly noticing how calm and collected Maggie presented herself after saying such.

“From what you’ve told me, Y/N and her father are estranged. He didn’t raise her. She’s nothing like him. It’s just…instead of running with fear, Rick is turning back to that scary version of himself when we first came to Alexandria.” Maggie frowns her finger tips gently brushing her barely showing pregnant belly. “I’m afraid of him hurting her indirectly. To be fair…when I found out, I wanted to do exactly that. But then I remember she’s this outgoing person who’s super smart and an amazing listener to every single concern a person may have…she doesn’t even have to know you long to care so deeply about you…she’s nothing like this monster but he will hurt her and Rick will break some part of her”

While all of such happened, the Sanctuary sort of collapsed within itself once Negan disappeared. He just left without a word and Simon tried taking his place but then the people that Negan tortured under his boot for so long, started to fight back finally. Y/N watched it all unfold while packing up her stuff and planning her route out but it came clear to those die hard followers that she’s something that can bring him back.

Which he was planning to do while he stood in the old outpost, the first one the group attacked that led to their deaths. Negan sighed when Rick didn’t immediately come into view but once he did, he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have the whole group or those who’ve lost their partners. All he needed was Michonne and his son Carl. Knowing they’d keep him centered.

“If this is a trap, the others know to come rain hellfire on—-“

“The Sanctuary is currently imploding. None of’em like Simon and won’t follow him. Whatever you want to do to me, I’ll let yea do. As long as you don’t punish her for my actions”

Carl’s expression softened hearing such as he didn’t think about that. His dad was just mad and terrified of what else could happen since Negan hasn’t done anything to them. Little do they know the shit he’s been putting his kid through mentally, and the few times physically that one would think she endured it all for her family.

“Dad. This seems��like the truth, but we still need to be careful”

“You should listen to the kid.” Negan states only for Rick to take that moment and right hook him making him stumble a bit as Michonne quickly pulled Rick back knowing he was about to do more. “I deserved that”

“You deserve a whole lot worse”

“And I’m telling you…” The man straightens himself up brushing the blood from his busted lip on the back of his hand. “Do whatever you want to me”

Before Rick could get to say his response, Carl stepped in front of him to physically cut him off.

“Why? Why are you rolling over on your back now? After you killed Glenn…killed Abraham…killed all those people just to gain superiority but we just…” Carl couldn’t connect the dots, even if they were right there, guess part of him wanted him to say it.

“I hurt her.” Negan stated watching all of them tense. “I hurt my daughter. I tried so hard to get some fuckin’ relationship back after what I’ve done in the past. But the present was never mine. Then I really hurt her…for something someone else did, and I could’ve killed her…I’ll do whatever yea want me to do, and let you do whatever you want to me…for her promised safety”

________

Daryl sat on the porch checking his bike after they had gotten it back from the outpost. He felt her presence and felt it when Y/N brought her arms around his waist.

“You alright?”

“You know, whatever happens with whatever comes next…I’d always choose you”

The archer brought himself to turn toward her so he could wrap his arms around her kissing the top of her head whispering again asking if she was okay. She was.

________

She will always want to be in his arms.

Y/N stood outside the Sanctuary or what it used to be as people left…communities took people in, die hard followers were skeptical but given a second chance, Simon ran off, and she stayed at the place that kept her mentally beaten. But with her father, the Grimes (minus Jude), Daryl, Maggie, the king Ezekiel, Cyndie from Oceanside, and those who wanted to witness Negan get punished.

People wanted him dead. Rick wanted him to rot. So a bit of both happened. Y/N watched Rick put all his anger out on Negan and every punch made her flinch. She felt the tears come but no sound escaped her. Maggie brought herself to the other side of her friend while Daryl was on the other. She carefully took her hand into hers feeling her squeeze.

He’s a monster. He did all this horrible things and even with a good like…getting rid of it all…the pain was still there but so was the child from before the hell.

Michonne grabbed Rick’s shoulder when she thought Negan had enough but she also had enough of her friend watching her partner beat up her father.

“Patch’em up” Rick scoffs turning away from Y/N knowing if he looked at her, the regret will build. The new doc that his son found on a walk in the woods, Siddiq, took care of patching up Negan while Gabriel and Aaron tied him up taking him back to the cell that Morgan had made.

It was late in the night when Daryl felt the emptiness beside him and decided to get up looking for his partner who simply sat on the steps leading to the main floor. Her tired eyes said it all as he wished she had woken him to the nightmare she endured alone. He brought himself to sit beside Y/N as she flinched when he tried to check the bandage that was on the back of her head. The doc at the Sanctuary had to shave a part to get stitches in there after…yknow.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah…”

“No…I mean, does it still hurt” Daryl frowns watching her tears build up as she continued to hug her knees to her chest hiding her face feeling him bring his arm around her. “You should’ve never had to deal with that shit, and shouldn’t have seen what happen”

“I couldn’t…let him hurt you or my family…I just…the words won’t come out clear in my mind…I just couldn’t lose anymore”

Daryl watched her unravel as he didn’t let her go bringing her into his embrace and into his lap. Holding her desperately close as Y/N latched onto his person afraid they’d fall apart if she let go.

________

“You can have everythin’ and you still choose him?”

Y/N frowns looking at her father after she was forced to put on the outfit given to her. She looks around at the room surrounding her before locking eyes with the man that helped bring her into this world.

“He fixed what you broke” She states crossing her arms and holding her ground. “He didn’t have to, hell I did my best to keep my past to myself. But he loves me, protects me, makes me feel wanted…”

Negan wanted to speak but watched her hold her hand up to shut him up.

“I will always choose Daryl Dixon, over every man on this god forsaken planet”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #that took a while #four more after this then requests will be open #after a break ofc…#hope you enjoy this one

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lady-phasma · 1 year ago

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Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 1 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Kinda Friends to Lovers, Bathing/Washing, Awkward Flirting, Not Canon Compliant, No PTSD in chapter 1 (mentions of past abuse in later chapters), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, Fingering, Choking, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: Making friends in Alexandria is easier than on the road, which also means friendships can evolve and become something more if the connection is there. There's definitely a connection. Non-canon compliant because I don't ship him with Leah. (I think this is my longest fic, probably because this has been cooking for the full 11 years of TWD.) No beta. 9k words.

Daryl opened the door to the small “apartment” he lived in. Not really an apartment as much as the finished basement of one of the original surviving homes. Dog ran in first, pushing past his legs before the door could open fully. He watched as Dog started licking and nuzzling something on the couch. Dog wasn’t warning him but Daryl was always cautious and set his crossbow down gently as he closed the door and grabbed his knife from his belt all in one swift movement.

No one in Alexandria locked their doors, most of them probably didn’t have the keys to the houses anymore if they had ever had them at all. That meant that people didn’t trespass either. It was an unspoken rule made from mutual respect. Even in the faint light coming through the curtained garden windows he could tell this was a someone just not who. He started to relax a little but still held his knife as he turned on a lantern. Dog whined as the head on the couch turned and sniffed and groaned.

“Tha hell,” Daryl almost yelled it. “Dog, sit! What tha hell’re you doin’ here?” He stepped closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table. Eye level with Kristina as she sat up bleary-eyed and disheveled.

“Ya ain’t gotta yell,” she said as she rubbed her eyes open. Her short hair was sticking up all over on the side that had been on the pillow. “Anyway you’re the one that’s late.”

Daryl grunted and put the lantern on the coffee table. Kristina swung her feet onto the floor to make room on the couch for him.

“Ain’t late for nuthin’,” he grumbled as he stood up. He took his vest off and draped it over a chair followed by his belt and all the attachments. He even put his knife on the side table before sitting down on the couch.

“Well you’re late getting back is what I mean,” she said as he sat. “You were out on a run and gone longer than I thought. Find anything good?”

“Nah,” he answered. “Same as most days, ‘bout nuthin’ left here. Why’re ya here?”

“Because…” she let out a sleepy little yawn “you said that we should hang out today but then I remembered I don’t have a calendar and I don’t know what day it is so if you said Friday maybe it’s Monday and I’m the late one.” She chuckled a little at her own nonsense and that made Daryl scoff or grunt or whatever that noise was that he makes when something is slightly humorous.

She lifted her sock clad feet and a portion of blanket up onto the couch, almost in his lap but not quite. She tucked her cold toes between his leg and the couch cushion as she leaned back on the arm of the couch and looked at him.

“You had a hard day, huh?” she tried but he rarely took the bait. She was feeling him out, trying to get the sense of his mood.

Daryl shook his head just a tiny bit then shot her a side glance briefly before looking down at his hands again. He appeared to be missing the “armor” of having his pocket knife to clean his nails to avoid eye contact.

“We’ve been friends awhile,” she leaned up and hugged her knees. “Not as long as some but a while, right? So you should know by now I’m not asking as your therapist, hell I don’t even need full and complete sentences!” The half of his face she could see shifted into a slight grin at this. She desperately wanted to reach out and move the hair back from his face but they weren’t those friends.

“Yeah,” he spoke this more than grunted so that was progress.

Kristina really wanted to be more than friends with him but had never pushed him, would never. She was so curious about him. There was only so much you could learn about someone if they didn’t talk. She knew his relationship with Carol was particularly special because they had spent so many months living out there and they didn’t always need words to communicate. Trauma bonds will do that to people. She really wasn’t his therapist. She functioned as one in Alexandria for most people but never for him unless he asked. She didn’t want him to. She wanted him to need her for other things. She had been through a lot of shit when the world fell apart, made some unpleasant choices. She had survived. She didn’t want him to be her therapist either but she had shared some of the milder parts of her past with him as a kind of proof to him that she wasn’t soft or, rather, that being here hadn’t made her soft. She hadn’t told him everything but she probably would eventually, if he let her.

“Com’on, I have an idea, and don’t argue,” she said as she stood up. Stood up so quickly in fact that she startled Dog who had been nearly asleep next to the couch. “No whining either, just trust me.”

“I don’t whine,” he said, looking up at her and suppressing a bit of a grin. She smiled widely at him but let him win that one. She reached down and grabbed his hands and feigned pulling him up weakly. He conceded and stood up.

She led him by one hand through the small area he called a bedroom (truly an alcove with a mattress on the floor but whatever) and into the bathroom. She barely heard his “huh?” as they walked in. He was tired but he was also filthy. Alexandria’s electricity was mostly out but their cisterns kept water pressure pretty strong as long as everyone wasn’t opening their taps at the same time. She closed the toilet lid and pushed his shoulders down as a signal to sit. He actually didn’t argue.

First, Kristina plugged the tub drain, then she turned on the hot tap and ran the water over her inner wrist testing its temperature. She wasn’t optimistic but what was in the hot water tank had stayed pretty warm. Some of the solar electricity must be working during the day. She ran the water into the tub until it ran almost cold. Looking at the amount and scowling she turned around to look at Daryl and raised an eye brow. He was watching her intently. She blushed a little. He couldn’t read her mind thank god because she had only glanced at him to assess water displacement and how full the tub needed to be for comfort and at that moment thought about him without his clothes on. Naked Daryl, my, well that would be different. She shook her head and looked back at the tub.

The water was cooling off so she instructed him to “stay right there, just a sec” and bounded through to the kitchenette for a pan and a sterno can. When she returned to the bathroom she looked around and realized the best place for the sterno was on the toilet lid but Daryl was still where she had told him to stay.

“Ugh, what now?!” he grumbled.

“Get up! Laws of thermodynamics and all that means your water’s coolin’ off, so I’m going to do this and you get undressed,” she bossed at him while setting up her burner and pan.

“No, wha?” he blustered “Uhn-uh, nope.”

“Oh you big baby, just do it,” she teased, she made sure the teasing was evident in her tone. Once she had filled the pan with water and sat it over the flame she turned to see what she had expected: Daryl pressed so hard against the opposite wall that he might just sink into it, with all his clothes on.

Kristina giggled a very girlish giggle, something she rarely ever had occasion to do in her 30s but damn he was endearing. He looked up at her with those eyes and through his filthy hair and she couldn’t stop herself. Walking slowly as if toward a cornered wild animal she made the couple of steps to him. She slowly reached out her hand and put it on one of his, slid it around so they were palm to palm.

“Look, you don’t have to,” she soothed. “But the water is warm, I’ll add some more hot as fast as it heats so you don’t get cold. I won’t see anything you don’t want me to and anyway, when did you last bathe? That wasn’t in a creek?”

His grin was reply enough to that and was a very sincere grin. He nodded slightly and she let go of his hand.

She tested the water in the tub again, nodded to herself, and tested the water that had been heating while they talked and sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the hot water hit the tips of her fingers. She grabbed a towel to hold the pan’s handle and gradually mixed in the heated water with that in the tub. She filled the pan again from the sink. It probably wouldn’t take many more of these to make it comfortable. She waited, looking at the pan of water on the flame as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world because she didn’t dare turn around.

At first she had only heard the soft swooshes of shirt fabric as he began to get undressed. Then she had heard one boot, then the next, thump onto the tile floor. The next sounds were out of context so she could only imagine what was happening while staring at this incredibly interesting pan of water. She heard Daryl’s bare feet make a few steps on the floor and then a hand moved past her to grab a bath cloth off the rack.

“Scuse me,” he said very close to her ear. All of the muscles in her neck froze to keep her from pivoting to see how much progress he had made.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied. Except she kind of croaked the words out and had to clear her throat a bit. She decided to test the water.

“Shit! Okay well that’s hot enough.” she yelped. “So I need to pour this in and I can’t do it with my eyes closed so if you don’t want me to see something, whatever, cover it in 3… 2… 1….” She turned slowly looking mostly at the pan and the floor then the tub. But she knew she would look at him once she started pouring. Who wouldn’t?

Daryl stood looking mostly at his feet but not cowering or shy like she had expected. It occurred to her that he probably bathed naked or just in his underwear out in the woods but there just wasn’t anyone to see him. So in this small room the only things that were modest were his gaze and using the bath cloth like a loin cloth. He was tan but also very dirty and she was pretty sure this one bath wouldn’t be enough but he could deal with that tomorrow.

“Okay, I think it’s ready for you but I’m going to heat at least one more pan,” she said far too quickly, almost making one word from them all and turned to the sink to refill it.

“Uh, thanks,” he said from behind her. Then the water in the tub made a sloshing sound and then another. There was some squeaking on porcelain, presumably his hands on the sides as he lowered himself in, and that mental image was actual the first one that consciously made her flush and feel the tug between her legs. She had thought Daryl sexy very, very many times and had probably had this normal, biological reaction to him many times, but this was different. This time was not brief or from her own imaginings. She took a deep breath and relished it.

Daryl sighed and then inhaled sharply. He went all the way under the water, coming up sputtering and smiling to himself a bit. She noticed the shampoo on a high shelf and, without looking, sat it near the tub so he could reach it.

“You good on soap?” she asked the pan of water.

“M’fine,” he said. “You don’t hafta keep starin at that water. I’m in now, won’t embarrass ya.”

Kristina looked over at him and the blush rose from her cheeks to her hairline. Shit, yup, Daryl was now Naked Daryl. She didn’t stare at any one place and after making eye contact briefly she put her gaze on the floor. Mostly out of respect. She decided she could sit on the bath mat and keep an eye on the heating water without feeling like an interloper. He didn’t tell her to leave and it didn’t occur to her to leave but there was more water heating so she’d stay until that pan was finished.

He sighed and leaned his head back, dipping his hair into the water again. She had seen some of his scars before but he still kept most of them out of view. She had a clear view of one on his chest she had only glimpsed before through an open shirt or when he changed quickly out of blood and dirt covered clothes. She desperately wanted to touch each of them. She equally didn’t want to get caught staring though she was pretty sure he already knew she was.

She tested the temp of the water on the sterno and it felt hot enough. Maybe he would ask her to leave and that would be that and she’d wait with Dog in the living room. She blew out the sterno flame and he opened his eyes, looking at her sideways without moving his head. Now the only light source was the small lantern. The sudden semi-darkness had surprised them both.

“Uh, do you want me to, um, or you can if you’d rather,” she stumbled through that question without finishing. “I don’t want to burn you. How’s the water?” She wanted to sew her mouth shut. Wow that was embarrassing.

“You can if ya want,” he answered as he closed his eyes. “I trust ya. Water’s good. Thanks again. Ya knew I’d just go to bed smellin like the woods.”

“Like the woods for starters and dead things and dirt and Dog. He needs a bath soon too!” she was able to tease unselfconsciously again in the dimmer light. She couldn’t see anything below the surface of the water, not that she was looking, but that made them both less tense it seemed. Like he were less naked.

Kristina turned to pick up the sterno can and take it and the pan to the kitchenette when she felt his hand lightly on her wrist.

“Don’t go,” he whispered without looking up.

She placed everything on the sink and went to sit on the bathmat again, this time she put her back against the tub wall, facing away from him, and hugged her knees to her chest. They sat in silence like that for some time. She really did cherish that he enjoyed silence. The world before had been so loud that it made her anxious. Now the sounds of walkers was almost constant depending on your location. Any silence when you were able to be unguarded was sacrosanct.

She heard the water sloshing gently behind her and smelled the mingled odor of the outdoors with the floral soap and smiled. He would definitely feel better and sleep better.

“Hey, could ya do one more a’ those?” he asked in a low whisper trying not to disturb their silence too much. Wordlessly she set everything up, lit the sterno, they both squinted at the extra light, and filled the pan. She sat back in her exact spot on the bath mat.

At first her brain lagged and didn’t know how her arm got wet. She felt the warm water on her upper arm before she felt his fingers. Then his fingers went up under her t-shirt sleeve and back down, up then down. So slowly that she almost shivered and she did make the smallest moan then clenched her jaw tight so no other sound could escape. He was so guarded against the world that touching someone seemed impossible. She had analyzed that from afar for a while now, not infrequently. But the part of her brain trained in analysis wasn’t in control at the moment. Right now she just wanted to feel this. When she leaned to check the water somehow, not intentionally on her part, his fingers grazed the side of her breast. She hitched in a small breath. She was pretty sure he had been looking at her and aimed that last touch.

The water was hot enough so she blew out the sterno and turned, still on her knees, with the pan ready to pour in the hot water. His blue eyes glinted in the dim light as he watched her. He was beautiful like that. Strong, lean, hair wet against his head, muscular arms on either side of the tub, amazingly unselfconscious. Just waiting on her. She nearly dropped the pan when he quirked up one corner of his mouth.

“Whasa matter with you?”he asked.

“Nuthin’,” she muttered. She started gently pouring the water into the tub and unconsciously glanced at him under the water. The bath cloth was strategically placed and she relaxed a little. Then she knelt next to the bath and swallowed hard.

“Well, I’ll let ya get on with it,” she told him. “You probably need two or three good scrubbin’s and your hair. Do you sleep in mud?!” Her hand was halfway to smooth back his hair before she realized it. She followed through and pushed a lock back from his cheek. He didn’t look at her.

“Nah,” he replied and cupped both his hands full of water and swept it over his head. He sunk down into the tub just a bit, knees poking out of the surface now. “An’ don’t go.” His eyes were closed as the water ran down his face.

“Okay,” Kristina replied. “So whatcha wanna do, talk?” She laughed a little and she noticed the corners of his mouth twitched up at that. She enjoyed teasing him because he knew his own idiosyncrasies and wasn’t embarrassed around her… most of the time.

Daryl started fiddling with the soap and cloth nervously and unproductively. He seemed to finally realize he was naked. He looked over at her watching him. It was a good thing his face was flushed from the warm water or she would see him blush.

“Lord, why am I even in here then?” she asked exasperatedly. She snatched the bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub, anxiety forcing her to do something. “Sit up.”

He did as he was told while she put some shampoo on her hands. She started out gently and then the absolute mess of his hair distracted her from her nerves. She had never washed a grown man’s hair before in her life and had not planned this but now that she was doing it she wondered a bit about why he was letting her. She had her suspicions about his experience with women and understood his shyness. But this felt out of character at the moment, out of character for both of them.

She scrubbed at the tangles and grumbled. “Dunk,” she commanded. He did. She added a bit more shampoo and massaged it in. From the corner of her eye she saw him start to actually use the bath cloth to clean his face, neck, arms. His arms. Her breath hitched a little at the sight of his bare biceps.

She rose up on her knees to get better leverage on this mess and her breast pressed into his shoulder. The water soaked through her t-shirt and bra. She tried to continue with the task at hand but both of them had frozen for a moment, keenly aware of the contact. She didn’t pull away. She decided to appear to ignore it, maybe it would be a signal to him. She took advantage of the accident and pressed a little more against him. He made a sound like quietly clearing his throat. She smiled to herself a little.

When she was satisfied that his hair was as clean as it would be this time she told him to rinse. She sat back on her heels as he sunk under the water and ran his fingers through his hair. He came up sputtering and immediately shook his head like a dog, spraying her and the bathroom with water. She laughed and instinctively shoved his shoulder.

“Hey! Not fair,” she played but her hand lingered a bit longer than intended.

Daryl scoffed, that small laugh of his. He leaned back and started working the soap in his hands. Still avoiding eye contact. What on earth is he thinking, she wondered. The longer this stretched out the more she began to feel things, things she wasn’t sure she was supposed to feel. She had always been bold with men but most weren’t as… as what? delicate? as he was. Timid might be the more accurate word. She couldn’t just grab him and drag him to his bed even if that’s ultimately what he was trying to get her to do. So she stood up and perched on the edge of the tub. She held out her hand. He looked up at her slowly from her hand, up her arm, to her face, questioning.

“Gimme,” she said. “Soap and cloth.” Neither of them broke eye contact as he put them in her hand. Their fingers grazed.

She had never done this before and felt a very awkward. She wasn’t judging him for wanting this, she could probably psychoanalyze why he wanted her to, but she was trying to enjoy it for him. If she was tense he would pick up on it. He was too perceptive not to.

Kristina wet the cloth and her hands in the water next to his legs, extra careful not to touch him. She tried to exhale as quietly as possible. She slid closer to the end of the tub and positioned herself almost behind him. She pressed her fingertips on his shoulders, indicating she wanted him to lean forward. He did but he kind of crumpled and drew his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. She really had never seen all of his scars and tattoos. He kept them hidden. She gently started washing the back of his neck, then she realized she would actually have to scrub. She was honestly embarrassed, more than he was it seemed.

Her mind was racing as she washed down his shoulders and back. All these thoughts and at the forefront was the idea that he knew exactly how uncomfortable this made her. Dixon could be that manipulative? Nah. she argued with herself. She scrubbed a bit too hard over a recent bruise and he pulled away and hissed air through his teeth.

“Sorry, shit,” she said and laid her bare palm on the bruise. He softened a bit with that but didn’t speak. She slowly finished what she could reach and then pulled back on his shoulder for him to lean back. She rinsed and re-soaped the cloth and decided to be a little bold, test his intentions a bit. His eyes were closed so she started on his neck and down his shoulder, bicep, to the water’s surface. She retraced her path and then moved the cloth slowly down his chest. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t move. She wanted to feel the hair and the scars on him with her bare hand but it was too soon to drop this ridiculous pretense.

She leaned across to reach his other shoulder deliberately pressing her breasts against him. He did move a little then. A kind of shrug, not to move away but to reciprocate. She wiped the cloth down his other arm and then slowly sat back up. She cleared her throat a bit more loudly than she intended. In the silence of the bathroom it almost echoed.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked at her. She just couldn’t put her hands under the water. She panicked and dropped the cloth. She stood up, didn’t quite run from the room but almost. She was out so quickly that she left the door open behind her. She leaned against the wall in his bedroom and exhaled, shaking all over. Nope, I did not just do that, she thought. She had. She had fled. Whatever he was doing, on purpose or not, was too much for her. She heard the drain start in from the bathroom. A few more noises and then Daryl was in the doorway, the towel wrapped low on his hips.

“Thas how it is, huh?” he had a great poker face.

“Mmmm,” was the best she could muster in front of his defined muscles. She felt herself shake her head side to side without meaning to. God how she wanted to start babbling and explaining and deflecting but also not do those things and just let this play out how he wanted.

He walked toward her. So big and silent. He could look menacing if he tried but his face was always kind to her. His hair was tousled and in his eyes again. Unph. She almost made that sound out loud. Instead she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. His eyes caught on that movement while he took the few steps to her. She could feel the heat coming off him, he was so close to her. He smelled wonderful, not entirely clean as she suspected. She could smell him.

There was no way he was doing this, being the opposite of shy with her. He looked down at the wet spots on her shirt. He started to touch her hand but only hovered next to it then let his drop to his side. He started talking, mumbling, toward the floor.

“Dunno, it’s dumb,” he said. “Jus wanted to see if you would, ya know, do somethin.”

Wow he was so uncomfortable even after trying to seem otherwise that she ached for him and the courage he must have dug up from deep inside. Very slowly she thought she understood how he could see something incredibly awkward as an opening. Realization dawning, she smiled up at him. She would not laugh because she didn’t want to risk him ever thinking that she was laughing at him. She had to pause to choose her next words and actions carefully. He wasn’t confident enough to overtly take control but wanted it, wanted her to give in, meet him more than halfway.

“Yes, Daryl,” she almost whispered. She brushed a wet lock of hair back from his forehead and trailed her fingers down his jaw. She liked that he didn’t shave. “Yes, I would do anything but only with your consent. Probably, I’d do some things I didn’t want to,” she tipped her head in the direction of the bathroom, hopefully indicating that had been awkward for her.

“Yeah?” he almost growled, the single syllable rumbling in his chest.

“Sure,” she let her fingers move to his lips and she thought she had finally lost her mind. “Sure, just as long as I know it’s what you want.” He pulled away but not in a way that made her regret her honesty.

“Yer prolly doin that head shrinkin’ thing,” he said dubiously, inspecting her eyes for any reaction, any tale-tale sign that she would lie to him.

“Never!” she said a bit louder than she planned. “I couldn’t anyway,” she winked at him. “You’re a completely open book.” He almost laughed at this, almost. Kristina was relieved that he was great at picking up on her sarcasm.

They stood silently for nearly too long, it was almost uncomfortable. Finally Daryl took a step back. He held the towel at his waist and started to walk toward the living room. She was pretty sure he was going to put clothes on and she would miss this window, this giant window with a neon sign flashing “entrance” above it, and she’d be damned if she would miss that.

“Wait,” she grabbed the wrist of his free hand and he stopped. He didn’t turn toward to her, just froze. She stepped up behind him. Still wishing not to rush things and probably failing, she lightly touched his shoulder, a scar. He winced. She traced her finger down his spine to the top of the towel. She flattened her palm on his hip and pulled their bodies together. He was quite a bit taller than her so her head was exactly level with the space between his shoulder blades. She watched them flex, he was now holding the towel with both hands. She continued to slide her palm around him, to his stomach. He stiffened as she placed her other hand there as well and pressed her entire body into him. She hugged him tightly, waiting, hoping he would breathe and start to relax. She felt the rumble against her cheek as he sighed or moaned or whatever that sound was. He shifted and placed a hand on top of hers.

She didn’t know how long they stood there but it seemed neither of them was in a hurry to move. She did though. She gently pulled her hands back, trailed her fingers along his back in the direction she was walking, summoning him. She stood in front of the mattress on the floor and waited for him to turn around. When he did, when she knew he was watching, she started to lift her t-shirt over her head but he nearly pounced to stop her. He grabbed her hand while only her stomach was bared. He tightened the towel around his waist and hesitantly grabbed the hem of her shirt, sliding it up and off. He dropped it on the floor. His hands hovered momentarily and then he slid them down her bare arms.

Daryl stepped so close to her that they were nearly touching again. He tipped her chin up to him with his fingers. She looked at him and parted her lips slightly. He leaned down as if to kiss her but stopped with their mouths only millimeters apart. He licked his lips but still seemed unable to make up his mind. Then, suddenly, he was kissing her. Lips pressed hard together against teeth. Inexpertly but lovely. She kissed him back, desperate, but not opening her mouth further, letting him lead. She felt his tongue against her lips and the surprise ran down her spine to her clit. She encouraged him with her own. God how she wanted to press against him, hurry him.

He put a hand on the back of her head and twisted his fingers in her short hair as best he could. He didn’t pull her into him but tugged, almost pulled on her hair. He groaned into her mouth. She pushed her tongue past his lips, exploring his tongue, his mouth. She placed her hands on either side of his face hoping to help him relax his clenched jaw. It almost worked. Until it didn’t. He overthought everything and this touch startled him enough to pull back from their kiss.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I, uh, I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She enjoyed this for a few moments, the closeness, breathing each other in.

“That’s okay,” she said in a near whisper. “Com’on, sit down.” She sat on the mattress and leaned her bare back against the cold wall. She shivered. He slumped down next to her and the towel slipped a little, showing one of his thighs more than he might have wanted if he had noticed. She turned to look at him, not stopping herself from smoothing his hair back just a bit. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him but she was pretty sure that was not what he wanted.

She pressed the side of her body up against him completely. She let her fingers slide over the back of his hand and then rest on it.

“Hey…” she whispered. When he looked at her she kissed his cheek, jaw, then his bottom lip. Using her hand to guide him she lifted his and set it gently on her breast. Her bra was still damp and her nipple was hard against his palm. He made the best sounds, this one between a grunt and a groan, and she was positive he had no idea how sexy he was when he did that. She pressed the back of his hand lightly until his fingers flexed. She arched her back. He turned toward her more fully and started to explore, edging his finger tips under the edges of her bra.

Kristina made all of her movements slow and deliberate, contorting her arms behind herself to flick open her bra. She nudged the straps down and he took the hint. His breath was warm on her chest but her nipples ached they were so hard. He sat up, leaned down, and slowly put his lips on one nipple then carefully licked at it. Her moans encouraged him. He sucked her nipple into his mouth. He caressed and kissed and licked with singular focus, adjusting based on the noises he drew from her.

Then he knelt and pulled her under him. It was strained and awkward at first. Her legs were curled under her, he held her up with a hand on her back while the other kneaded her breast. She sighed and pushed against his mouth. His hands were rough and strong. The feeling of his scruffy beard on her bare chest sent electricity through her entire body. He was perfect and a quick study. She tested putting her hands on his sides, smoothing them up his back, wrapping her arms around them to pull him closer. As she did this he started to lay her back on the bed. She straightened her legs out under him. She became acutely aware that her jeans were still on and he was mostly naked. He moved his hand from her back and cupped both of her breasts in his hands. His sharp, ragged breaths made her hips rise. She was pinned by him as he straddled her, holding her in place with his thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut harder not allowing herself to find out if his towel was still holding on for dear life. That would ruin this moment of focusing only on Daryl’s mouth and hands.

He felt her hips move and her back arch. He split his attention between her breast and finding his way to the waistband of her jeans. One handed he unbuttoned them and ripped open the zipper. She gasped a little and dug her fingers into his back. She wanted him to do everything at once, anything he decided to do next was fine by her. He slowly let her nipple slide from his lips. He began kissing her collarbones, her neck, her jaw, and then, finally her mouth. She opened her eyes to find his were open as he watched and decoded every her every move and expression. She felt his fingertips under the elastic of her panties and stayed as still as possible, kissing him harder, brushing her tongue over his lips.

She was so wet. She probably had been since he first undressed in the bathroom. He moaned into their kiss as his fingers slid between her folds and over her clit. He was learning, exploring, and taking his time. He moved his other hand to the bed beside her head to support his weight and get a better angle. He drug his finger through her wetness and up onto her belly. He started to sit up, ending the slow, delicious kiss and she lifted her head trying to keep their lips together as long as possible. His large, strong hand pushed her back, actually shoved her, onto the mattress. Her eyes went wide.

When he gripped the waist of both her jeans and panties she had to look down. He was pulling them down while he worked his way to the foot of the bed. Miraculously the towel was still on his hips but only barely. She could see how hard he was. He was basically naked and when he slipped her pants off her feet he also dropped his towel on the floor. This is happening, she thought. Holy shit. Before any more thoughts could form he was spreading her legs, opening them by her ankles. He looked at every part of her with such intensity that she wasn’t at all surprised when he kissed her calves. Then he started his way up placing kissed behind her knee, on her thigh, on the inside of her thigh. He smoothed a hand up over her hip bone and rested it firmly on her belly as he kissed the sensitive skin in the crease of her hip. It was clear he wasn’t going straight to her pussy. Her eyes were fixed on him and as soon as he was within reach she put her hands in his hair.

Daryl’s eyes shot up at her, his mouth still on her hip. For just a second he seemed to being making a decision. Then he lifted his head and grabbed her wrists, one in each of his hands. He slammed them down on the bed firmly. Message received. She pressed them down to indicate she understood. He almost smiled as he dipped his head to place more kisses on her belly and just below her breasts. Her hips moved and tilted and his hands stopped them as well, fingers digging in hard against her hip bones. She moaned. So this is it, she thought, this is what he was afraid of?

He roughly forced her legs wider apart, careful not to put his thigh where they both wanted it. He leaned over her, his knees holding her thighs open, the cool air on her pussy making her tremble. Okay not just the air. His hands were on either side of her head now. How badly she wanted to put her hands on his arms, feel his muscles, touch every part of him. He looked down at her, almost drowsily, and the groaning purring rumble started in his chest again. He kissed her fiercely, briefly.

“This good?” he asked because he had to. Not because she needed him to but he needed assurance, guidance.

“Mmmhmmm,” she mewled and her body reflexively arched and tried to roll her hips against him.

“No,” he said tonelessly. She stopped.

“This ain’t the time to say this,” he started. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, gathering courage. “But I ain’t never, I mean, well, shit.” He blushed. She started to lift her hands to comfort him, sooth him, and let them fall back to her sides. So she just tilted her head slightly and smiled.

“S’okay,” she whispered. She felt like it would be disobeying too soon if she were to touch him so she had to find the words. She licked her lips and looked directly in his eyes. “Take your time, tell me what you want, show me, we do it how you need to, kay?”

Daryl answered by sliding a hand down her body, without breaking eye contact, and slipping a finger through her wetness again. She let out a small breath and he smiled just a bit. She swallowed hard.

“May I?” she nervously asked.

He grunted assent. So she carefully slid a hand over his, lining her fingers up with his. He groaned and closed his eyes, concentrating. She used her fingers to guide him, first circling her clit then dipping lower. She gently pressed his finger into her and sighed. She slid her hand to his wrist and pushed. It had the desired effect and his finger moved deeper into her. The sounds he made were always guttural, sincere, almost feral. Maybe he had never even had his fingers in a woman. This thought made her cunt ache and she clinched around him.

“Another,” she begged.

He obliged, slipping a second finger inside her. Her hips twitched toward him. His entire body started to move as he began to fuck her with his fingers. They seemed to become aware, for the first time, of his dick pressed between them. She struggled not to push her hips down on his fingers. She wanted him to fill her and she didn’t know if he could read the signs. She spread her legs wider and moaned, almost begging wordlessly. He obliged and slid a second finger in. Certain that it was not possible for him to being enjoying this as much as she was, Kristina flushed when she opened her eyes to see him watching her. That intense focus aimed at her. Like tracking an animal, he was reading every sign available to him. He bit his bottom lip. His eyes moved over her arms by her sides, her chest rising and falling, her hips rolling, the place where their skin touched at the hip.

He ground his palm into her clit and pulled his fingers almost completely out. Then, very nearly roughly, he pushed three fingers into her. He bit his lower lip. He was using only a fraction of his strength but watching his arm working to make her feel this good made her want to grab onto it, claw and scratch at him. He really was paying close attention and curled his fingers slightly inside her. Her cunt clenched tight on him and she balled the sheets of the bed in her fists. She didn’t recognize the sounds that came out of her mouth but some of them resembled his name. Then his thumb pressed on her clit. He didn’t move it, only increased the pressure.

“Oh god Daryl,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.” She couldn’t fill her lungs with air.

He put his mouth close enough to her ear that she almost felt his lips move. “No.”

She couldn’t contain a deep groan but it wasn’t protesting, it was resignation and she tried with all of her focus to relax her grip on his fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the mattress dip with his weight as he pressed up to be right above her, on top of her. His dick nudged at her belly and he hissed sharply. He had moved his weight to his knees to free his other hand. With it her gripped her jaw, under her chin and lifted it up. She was learning him as quickly as he was learning her. She opened her eyes. She was supposed to be looking at him, not escaping the sensations. His thumb was harder on her clit, he had more leverage with this angle. He leaned in and kissed her. This time forcing her lips apart with his tongue. He was hurried and desperate and hungry. She gave in and made room for him.

She wasn’t completely sure she had ever allowed anyone to control her like this. She was excited, thrilled, by it. The release of control, no longer making decisions, but mostly allowing him to take pleasure from her… that was flattering for lack of a better word. It made her feel sexy and uninhibited. In the past few years there hadn’t been time for those feelings. Every moment of life was filled with decisions and nothing remotely sexy. She wanted to relax and enjoy this but she was so close and it had been a while since anyone had given her an orgasm other than herself. And this was giving, if he ever allowed it this would be a helluva gift.

At almost the same moment that he pulled his mouth from hers he removed his fingers. The sudden emptiness made her gasp. He actually smiled. Still kneeling and holding her face he placed his fingers on her mouth. He inhaled deeply in an almost crude way, smelling her. He started to slowly part her lips, encouraging her to do what he wanted. She did. With her inhibitions nearly forgotten she started sucking his fingers, doing whatever this enigmatic man asked. Whatever pleased him. If she took the time to really think about it she might panic, think this was too different from some core part of her. She wasn’t going to do that. Instead she sucked his fingers deep into her throat, wanting only to pull those sounds from him. Or to finally make him grind into her, give her the friction she needed.

He took his fingers away and briefly kissed her. Then he mumbled something into her mouth.

“Huh?” she was barely able to focus. He released her chin and propped himself up, one hand on either side of her head again, and leaned in close.

“Ya want it?” he growled. She wasn’t entirely sure it was a question but she moaned and nodded emphatically.

Daryl straightened, placed a hard, heavy hand on her belly, and stared at her pussy for a moment. He wrapped his hand around his dick and began to slowly stroke. She couldn’t look away but watching made her ache. She realized his hand was on her stomach to keep her still so he could watch. He pressed harder when she started squirm and push her hips toward him.

“Uhn-uh,” he said without looking at her.

He was actually expertly rubbing the head of his dick against her clit. His sighs were deeper now. He slid his hand from her belly to her hip, nearly to her ass, and guided her to tilt and lift her hips how he wanted her. She felt exposed. Now embarrassment washed over her. Her legs were spread wide, her hips raised, and all for him, only him. So he could look at her. She could follow through and trust this or she could stop. She didn’t want to stop. She was amazed at how exciting this humiliation was, wanted to let her mind examine how much he intended to humiliate her. She was relieved when he guided her ass to rest on his thighs, her calves were trembling from the position.

Once she had relaxed and trusted him with her weight his hand went back to her belly. He stroked her clit with his thumb while also holding her down. She let out a small huff when she realized what he was doing. That made him glance up at her face. His head still tilted down but his eyes studying her behind his loose, messy hair. She wanted to pout, put on a show for him, antagonize him, but thought maybe that would come later, if they ever did this again. Instead she mouthed please and he lowered his gaze again.

His dick nudged at her pussy, sliding in just a bit but it was enough that she completely understood why he was holding her still. He’s really never done this?! her mind yelled. He pulled back almost punishing her for trying to rush. Then he started to slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slide into her. He released his grip on his dick and pushed into her until their hips met. He found her hips with his hands and pulled her closer. She didn’t know if he could go any deeper but she wanted it. Wanted all of him in her. She didn’t want this delicious slowness to end but she desperately needed him to move. Her hands pulled at the sheets using anything she could to stay still like he wanted. His eyes flicked up when he saw the movement but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were shut tightly trying to center herself.

“Kristina,” he said. A flat toneless word the way he said it but it had more meaning behind it than she had ever heard. She moaned and looked at him. He wanted needed? her to watch, to be present. He withdrew and using her hips as leverage pushed back in. He intended for her to feel every inch of his dick but was taking it slow for himself. Out nearly completely, back in tapping lightly against her cervix. This sudden, unexpected resistance was the first thing to elicit an involuntary reaction: “shit” he hissed, drawing out the word. She had always enjoyed it when her cervix was involved in sex, if it wasn’t hard pressure it was pleasant but this, this was mind altering. His exploration, his excitement combined with her inability to move and control the fucking made every sensation heightened.

Daryl was definitely exploring. He repeated the action. Out, in, pressure on her cervix. His fingers were going to leave bruises on her hips and she didn’t care. He increased his speed, shortening his strokes, lifting both of them just a little each time. His eyes had barely left the place where he disappeared inside her cunt but now he looked up to watch her breasts sway with his efforts. He leaned forward, unintentionally pushing in farther than he had yet, and ran his hands up her sides. She was liquid, pliant, and let him move her like a doll. He scooped her up with his arms under hers, hands gripping her shoulders for leverage. She was no longer in control of any part of her body and instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. She had enough presence of mind to think he is so strong before letting her head fall into the crook of his neck. She was panting with the speed of his thrusts.

He had lifted her off the bed and into his lap and she felt small and dizzy and wonderful. There was no space between them, no room for him to pull out with each thrust. Her clit rubbed against the coarse hair on his lower belly. She couldn’t stop the rolling of her hips, clenching and unclenching around him. He kissed her neck, sometimes scraping his teeth over her skin, not quite biting. His lips brushed against her ear. One hand moved up her neck and into her hair, then back to her shoulder, lower to her ass. He was exploring, touching every part of her. She felt like he was touching her everywhere at once, inside and out.

When his hand snaked between them and his rough fingers found her nipple she started to beg and plead and warn “I’m going to come, please Daryl, oh god please.”

He breathed against her as his fingers dug into her shoulder, finding more purchase and bringing them closer together when she was sure there had been no more room. His other hand still rolling and pinching her nipple. They were both moving faster now. No difference between them, in perfect rhythm, and she noticed more than felt her fingernails dig into his back.

“Mmhmm,” he grunted. “I want ya to.”

An incoherent stream of ohfuckDarylohfuckfuck poured out of her mouth, head flung back, body arched toward him. She clamped her legs tight against his sides as her orgasm spread from her center. His arms moved to encircle her and press her breasts against his chest. She moaned with this new sensation. Groaned actually. It was going to be too much soon.

And then it was too much. His breath hitched in his chest and she felt him tense nearly every muscle in his body. His groan started deep in his chest. She wanted to feel that vibrate through her so she sat up straighter and ground her hips down onto his dick. He buried his face between her breasts and she tangled her hands in his hair.

“I’m gonna…” he tried to say through clenched teeth. “Ah baby I’m comin’. Fuck. Fu…” He crushed his face against her chest. She felt his hips jerk a few times then become still, felt his dick spasm inside her, and now she felt she could sooth and reassure without permission. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair, kissed the top of his head, and ran her hands down his neck and back. Then her hands found his face and turned it up to hers and she kissed him. Hard and rough and deep. She forced his mouth open with her tongue. He kissed her back and as he did her grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her up. He laid her back on the bed. She untangled her limbs from him. Then he slowly pulled out. She felt his cum trickle out, hot and more than a little satisfying.

He sank down heavily on the bed next to her. Half on his side, he laid an arm across her stomach and curled his fingers over her arm. She snuggled against his chest, still feeling small and safe but now also calm and quiet. Peaceful. With her eyes half-closed she languidly traced a scar on his arm.

“So that’s it huh?” he said quietly. She felt him smile as he kissed the top of her head.

“Well, when you put it like that,” she teased and giggled. She kissed his chest, pressed as much of her body against his as possible. “Yeah, that’s it, exactly it.”

Chapter 2

#daryl dixon #virgin!daryl x ofc #virgin!daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon x ofc #the walking dead daryl #daryl smut #x ofc #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #demisexual daryl

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youmakethelight · 3 months ago

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I need to be so clear with my tumblr algorithm right now.

Liking daryl ≠ being attracted to him personally

Liking daryl ≠ finding norman reedus attractive or caring about him at all beyond the fact that he plays daryl

Please oh my god please make the nr thirst and daryl x reader smut stop

And replace it with melissa mcbride please please please I'm on my hands and knees please

#why does twitter get it and tumblr doesnt???#this is meant to be the gay website not twitter what the fuck is going on #ofc referring to real daryl not spinoff daryl idk that guy #adding a note to say that I do find daryl attractive but in more of a 'omg I love him what a cute creature so cute cute cute but omg what #are you doing with that grenade wow I love him I trust him he makes me feel safe and carol makes him better I want them to be happy togethe #sort of way #daryl was my fave fave fave but specifically his character is the attractive part not the actor who plays him and whose other roles seem to #be so very very different #also his voice is a crucial part of it

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thesoggyraincloud · 9 months ago

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Catching her Chapter 8

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 2913

Updated

Warnings- Allusion's to SA, Cannon swearning and physical violnce ------

Instead of the comforts of a viable, functioning society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind, a week after the initial outbreak and a day after Quinn had run out of food.

------

Daryl.

He hadn't felt terror in a long time. The kind that leaves you powerless, voiceless and without a scrap of logic left to reason with. That hadn't touched him since he was big enough to be called a man, since before he realised his fists left less room for argument than his words and he’d never seen a reason to turn back. The first time he’d felt terror was at the hands of his father, but this time maybe he understood Merle’s. Why he took the beatings and why he left. Because it paralyses you, when someone who feels like a part of you gets hacked away. Leaves you primal and wanting to charge towards the danger or away, whatever helps the feeling in your chest subside fastest so you can fucking breath again.

Because he can't breathe. Not while she's in there and it’s his fault. He doesn't even know if she's ok, totally absent from their earlier scuffle at the Vatos base. All his senses tell him to run head first into the danger to get her, but the guilt in his chest makes him wanna turn on his heel and run away from it all entirely and back to Merle. His thoughts crashed and rolled against his skull as Rick spoke, forming words that were sucked away before they reached the redneck's ear.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the items of offence were pushed into his view, the guns they unwittingly traded for their friends. And now would be forced to trade back, leaving him just as unable to defend her as before. He hated himself for it but his body felt tight at the thought that he’d be trading Quinn for Merle if he did this. One wrong move and he wouldn't be around to look for his brother. Hell every second that passes separated them by another mile, was she really worth more than Merle to him?

“Them Guns are worth more than Gold.” He huffed, rubbing his face, and quickly continued, “Gold doesn't protect your family, put food on the table.”

“Are they really worth it?” As the word left his mouth he physically pulled away from them, turning from the men and only thinking about the guilt coating his mouth. .

“If I knew we’d get them back, I might agree.” Rick quickly turned toward T-dog, “What, you think Vatos across the way is just gonna hand 'em’ over?”

The boy they grabbed spoke up, Daryl didn't care for the subject of his words, only that the kid's voice made him feel like pushing his nose through into his skull. Hitting him didn't do anything to make him calmer it just poured more into his sense of injustice and had him pacing across the room again

“The question is do you trust that man's word?” T dog spoke over the chaos, and he tried to focus, to use his rage as a tool to help the situation and not hinder it, but he just ended up wondering how Merle would’ve responded.

“No, the question is what you're willing to bet for it, could be more than them guns, could be your life. Are they really worth that to you? “ In his mind he asks himself the same question, weighing it against his heart and his mind.

“The life I have I owe to him, I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away but he didn't, neither will I.” he paused and handed Daryl a gun and continued,

“I could be asking you the same question. That woman, Quinn, came out here to help your brother. She could've stayed back at camp with the rest of the women but she's out here for you.”

He wanted to knock the self righteous bastard around the head with the butt of his gun or push him out the window and into the street, he didn't have a damn clue and he sure as hell didn't have a right talking to him about it right now. That asshat was ignorant of anything that happened in that camp, hell he owes her shit? she owed him if anything. But the nagging feeling was pulling his feet toward fighting, bulldozing through the next few hours to get Quinn back to him so he could try and get some control over this hellish day. He knows where she is and if he could get her back he might have some hope in finding his brother.

The men around him stared at him, eyes boring in and he realised they were waiting on his answer.

“What, you gonna hand the guns over?”

“I didn't say that.” Rick turned to T-dog, “You can still leave, there's nothing keeping you here.”

Like hell there ain't, Daryl internally snarked, but T-dog chose to stay. Giving him nothing more to complain about. Leaving that space empty to focus on the pricks that took Quinn and Glenn.

“Come on, this is nuts. Just do like g says.” The kid spoke up, and sooner wished he hadn't by the time Daryl's hand connected with his face again. And like a highschool bell, the slap quietened the room, unifying them in their decision to leave.

The whole ride down he sat in anticipation, each metre the van flew over filled him with steam and fire. Like the bow of an old ship his mind fractured into a thousand working parts pushing and pulling against itself, the bedlam refusing to placate against what possibilities lay ahead. She hadn't been there when they initially tried the exchange, although from the way they’d displayed Glenn like a Christmas turkey, he's almost grateful he didn't see her. Or he would be if it didn't mean 100 different, worser outcomes might be taking place. It could be happening right now, what had he done to try and stop it but think about leaving her there with them to chase after his damn brother, yet again picking up after him.

Soon enough the Van came to a stop and He had to prepare himself for the fire fight to come. He stepped out into the sun with a frown and pulled himself alongside the others, boots filled with lead treading slowly along the concrete.

When the door opened, Rick led with Miguel, displaying the hostage and using him as cover from any enemy fire. It was a cold thing to do, Daryl mused. Stepping in behind them, it was clear they’d not lacked much in man power, at least seven or eight stood guarding the entrance. Locked and loaded ready to push them back out into the street.

“I see my guns but they're not all in the bag.” The head vato, Guillermo spoke first.

“That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that.” Rick countered.

Both sides anticipate the pull of metal against their fingers. Someone spoke up from the back but Daryl was so wired on Guillermo he didnt make out what was said just that something was, staring into the crowd of antagonist’s he tried to pin the voice down to a face.

“I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.” The head Vato replied and the room felt like it shrunk as the Vatos pressed them back.

“No, I'm pretty clear. You have your man, I want mine.” Miguel was freed, stumbling into the men in front and being absorbed by the crowd.

“Two hostages for the price of one? I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. And my boys will do worse to your girl. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?” Daryl had to hold himself from throwing the gun and running at the asshole.

Rick argued back but the situation grew more tense by the second, each man cocking their guns readying for the battle, that was until a small figure displaced the crowd in front. Breaking it apart and revealing themselves to be an elderly woman, calling out for someone to help.

“Get that old lady out the line of fire now!” Daryl shouted, but she paid the situation no mind, not seeing the true threat before her. Tugging away at a man and crying for them to help someone they couldn't see.

Guillermo shouted for them to leave but it was too late, with their weakness exposed they had no choice but to back down. The elderly woman, now realising the man in front’s attire started to shout in defence of her grandson, she thought the group came to arrest him. The situation quickly made Daryl feel grateful that his grandparents had never been any thought to him, looking after the young, old or sick were the kind of burdens he knew he couldn't handle with the dead walking.

“Let em pass” That brought Daryl back to attention, pushing forward to find what he’d come all the way out here for.

“Where's the woman?” He hadn't bothered waiting for an answer, heading off down the corridor towards Glenn's voice.

“If your looking for your wife, she's in the nurse's office.” A larger woman pointed towards a door in the opposite direction and he started for the handle, halfway turning it before he actually registered what she’d said.

“Wife?” He questioned but the woman had already begun walking away back to the gathering at the end of the hall.

He clicked open the door with a breath of relief, she lay down sleeping on the examination table and for the first time since she was gone Daryl felt he could shut his mind up, if only for a minute, as if looking at her might salvage this hellfire of a day.

“Quinn, Quinn?” He shook her but she didn't stir, it took a hard shove before the woman woke up. Shifting in place and wincing in pain as she slowly opened her eyes to his face above hers.

“Jesus Daryl.” She flinched back until he caught her arm bringing her up to a sitting position.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Those damn asshats busted my back when they grabbed me.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke, looking away from him.

“Lemme see.” He panicked as soon as he’d said it, pulling away almost immediately at the idea but unable to stop the words leaving his mouth.

She shook her head, No, and took a sharp breath in.

“There’s something- It’s more then today.”

“I was in an accident, there's a lot of scarring from when I was fused back together, I got a couple of grafts and shit too.”

“Fused wha-” He was cut off when she raised her shirt, twisting around to catch his face.

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he could manage, her back was a mass of scar tissues and mottled bruising. A perfect line snaking up her spine stood against the paintings on her skin as permanent evidence of the surgeries she’d had to save her life.

“This is from an ‘accident’?” He questioned, although he was faintly aware she’d just said as much.

She didn't reply, clumsily pulling down her shirt and letting out a heavy sigh. Rubbing her face, likely still sleepy. It wasn't unusual but something about the weight in her limbs set his mind in motion, his eyes watching her more carefully.

“It’s not something I like talking about.”

He turned away, wiping his damp palm’s on his jeans. He stood rigid on the spot, eyes darting between the wall and his feet trying to come up with something to say. But he was left at a blank, he had never seen anything like that on someone outside of himself, he could only think of his father and the crack of the belt flicking over him.

“We should go find the others, Daryl.” She broke through the image of his fathers torment, slowly walking to him until he took her arm to steady her, moving them both down the corridor towards their friends.

Once all was said and done, the vatos were left with half the guns and ammo and Daryl hoped he never saw them again. He’d spend the minimal time inside hoping he would recognise the fucker that hit her, and the rest helping her hobble around trying to find a brace for her back. He’d been in a borderline rage helping her look for it in the vast building, but once they had it he was exhausted and ready to head back to the van and away from all these damn people.

He could have died hearing glenn call out ahead of them.

“Oh my god. Where the hell’s our van? We left it right there. Who would take it?”

‘Merle” Rick countered, he looked at Quinn but she had no expression, refusing to meet his eyes.

“He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.”

They continued their trek forward, pushing on despite the missing van, it was starting to get dark by the time they found a car in decent enough condition to hot wire. They all passed the journey in anxious anticipation at the wrath Merle might have inflicted upon the camp. He felt too done at this point to feel any guilt over it, Merle's potential actions might be his to deal with but until they got back he could have a moment of peace.

His focus returned to Quinns rhythmic breathing, deep in sleep her face covered partially by his jacket collar. He found he had the temptation to pull it down from her face to get a better look. He settled on counting her breaths instead, watching the car pass by the highway.

“Is she alright?” T-Dog spoke from his space in the empty trunk behind them.

“They roughed her up pretty good.” Rick filled the momentary silence as Daryl thought of a reply.

She wasn't ok, not in the slightest. He had no idea what the fuck to do to help her, hell he didnt even know there was something wrong with her and he’d spent the better part of 3 months with her. If she told him there wouldn't have been a chance in hell that he’d have let her run after those guns, she put herself in so much danger.

“She’ll be fine.” He really hoped she would be.

When they arrived at a stop the air was cold and silent, interrupted almost immediately as the car door shut by a scream that ripped out across the quarry. A chorus joined them, wailing on as Daryl raced forward, Quinn momentarily forgotten in the back of the car.

He knew the others were following behind him, their footsteps quickly falling among the shuffles of the dead as bullets rang out. In the smoke and dispersing crowd, it was hard to tell how many there really were, taking extra agonising seconds to clear out the walkers.

Every direction he looked they stumbled around, most covered in fresh blood and ripped flesh. He took them down as they came to him, bullet after bullet firing from his magazine. Eventually running out of ammo and resorting to using the butt of his rifle to smash them down in unbridled rage. Using every ounce of his frustration and fear to carry his arm down onto the rotting skulls of the dead.

“AMY!”

“Oh god”

“AMY!”

Andrea’s screams signified the end of the walkers' evasion on their small encampment, Daryl stood alongside the rest of the group. Watching in shocked and equally horrified silence. No one moved for a few seconds, standing stagnant in the sea of death around them not daring to disturb her.

“I remember my dream now, Why I dug the holes.” Jim broke through the clearing, ending the silence and snapping Daryl back to attention.

“I need to go get Quinn.” He didn't bother waiting for a reply but he equally didn't expect one from the shell shocked crowd.

As he got further out back toward the road he left moments ago, he was almost halfway down the road to the car as he heard another slow, shuffle of footsteps coming towards him in the dark. Grinding dirt under their feet and limping over to him- he didn't think twice lifting up the end of his gun and stepping forward in quick succession.

“JESUS CHRIST” It was Quinn, shuffling down the road, in the dark on her own ready to be chomped down on by any geek around.

“Are you Dumb? Or just high again because I told you to stay in the Damn car.” He grabbed her arm, his heart beating faster than it ever had before. He took a good look at her, checking for any more injuries as she tried weakly to pull away.

“What?” Her voice came out harsh and narrow, face obscured by the dark.

“Fuck you, I woke up alone. To screaming and gunshots. Where were you? What the hell is going on?” He was silent, staring at her shadowed figure watching her expression closely.

“Walkers hit the camp, and you’d know that if you hadn't gone out there earlier and stormed up Atlanta like your G.I Joe.”

“Is anyone hurt?” At this point she was leaning up to him, so close he held his breath.

He pushed her shoulder down firmly, immediately regretted it as she cringed back, wincing in pain.

“Aside from you, Yeah. Just wait till you get back to camp, no point crying over shit you can't do anything about right now.” He slid his hand down her arm, letting her lean on him as they started the slow walk back.

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Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

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one-blaze-of--glory · 2 months ago

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i want to say who all stage doored but I don't knoww which white guy came out I'm so fucking face blind.

#i know hailey hyde and daryl tofa and anna bermudez #and ofc alex <3 #BUT I CANNOT RECOGNIZE ALL THESE WHITE GUYS I FEEL LIKE I'LL GET KILLED IN THIS FANDOM FOR THIS

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taus-inc · 5 months ago

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wanna sob at daryl yelling at carol heavily projecting onto her his fears.... like i love carol so much she's so kind but also why would she put herself in that situation. i feel like in her mind she knew he wouldn't hit her but she was prepared if he did and i'm so sad for her.. but also for daryl bc he feels so alone and is pushing these people away bc of all the feelings he had surrounding finding sofia.

#IM GONNA CRYYY #i love them and their dynamic sm but i just really love who they become #ect ect they're my favs #+ michonne ofc #taus on tv shows #taus on twd #the walking dead #twd #carol peletier #daryl dixon

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thecuratxr · 1 month ago

Note

♡ (from Carol to Daryl)

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

#Daryl being Daryl and not knowing how to be Affectionate (i will die on this hill)#ofc he gets better at it as time goes on but #ya know #/vague hand motions/ Daryl #daryl && hc #daryl && face #i live for caryl

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gennyan · 1 year ago

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need a no apocalypse au where carl and judith go to school and have like 50 crazy aunties and uncles that show up for events and shit

#twd #the walking dead #carl grimes #judith grimes #yes no apocalypse but the whole found family dynamic stays ofc #carl having a stupid little sports event and rosita just yelling her ass off and calling all the opponents curses in spanish #judith having a parent meeting thing and daryl and carol showing up because rick & michonne could come. and truly traumatising the teacher

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tending-the-hearth · 11 months ago

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tony awards performance theories mainly going off of the fact that brody, joshua, and sky are all nominated:

mashup of "great expectations" and "grease got a hold" OR "stay gold" and "grease got a hold" (this is the one i'm mostly leaning towards since it makes the most sense) (most likely "stay gold" over "great expectations" since it features both sky and brody)

"far away from tulsa" or "stay gold" leading into "little brother" or "run run brother", which would be a really cool tony's mashup

the opening lines of "tulsa '67" leading into "grease got a hold" leading into either "far away from tulsa" or "death's at my door" (which is personally the one i'm manifesting because i will cry my fucking eyes out)

like it'd be the "as i stepped out into the bright sunlight" line into joshua starting off with "i hereby declare that ponyboy curtis" and going into "grease got a hold", then going from darry saying "you want to be a fighter, then know just what you're fighting for" into "death's at my door" when johnny sings "i had no reason to live back in tulsa"????? literally would sob my heart out on the floor (if you can't tell this is the mashup or some form of the mashup that i'm hoping for lmao)

HOWEVER they could possibly do "great expectations" leading into the final chunk of the finale, starting with joshua joining in with brody until the very end (which would also make me sob)

i feel like in some way they're going to do a full cast number, due to the best musical nomination, which is why i think "grease got a hold" is probably going to get featured (and also ofc because joshua is nominated and he's the lead in that song) (also because they're also up for best choreo), but with how much they've been using "stay gold" and "great expectations" as their promo/tv spot songs, i'd love to see "far away from tulsa" or "death's at my door" as one of the tony award songs because they'd be PERFECT for sky and brody to duet with

whatever way they go 'm literally so excited for their performance and will be watching the tony awards JUST for them <3

#i just realized they could also POSSIBLY start with “friday at the drive-in” if they want to focus on choreo #but it doesn't feature joshua sky or brody #so i think grease got a hold or the finale is gonna be the group number #but tbh even though daryl and jason aren't nominated #if they do “hoods turned heroes” i WILL lose my entire mind #ohhh jfc “hoods turned heroes” into “stay gold” or “death's at my door” would actually destroy me on the spot #manifesting either a joshua or sky win PLEASE #and brody ofc i hope he gets it #and best musical win begging the universe #just an outsiders sweep in general #anyways ignore me and my silly little theories #the outsiders #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders musical #the tony awards

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sondheim-girly · 5 months ago

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I feel like I should spend Monday away from outsiders content so that on Tuesday I’ll be rested and ready to lock in on obsessing over Daryl Johnny

#/j #jean has thoughts #the outsiders musical #daryl tofa #I’ll be same level obsessed no matter what ofc

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lady-phasma · 1 year ago

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Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 2 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Kinda Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, mentions of past SA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: I'm terrible at these, it's just more fluffy smutty stuff like chapter 1. No beta. 3.6k words.

They lay in the fading light, drowsy, him on his stomach, her on her side. Kristina had tucked an arm under her head and was tracing lazy circles and swirls on his back with her other hand. His breathing was slow and relaxed. She watched his back rise and fall with each breath. Sometimes the shiny scars caught the light. She was brave and occasionally traced one, outlined it, caressed it. But mostly she stayed away from them. She wanted him to feel her adoration not feel like a freak show for someone to stare at. She understood that feeling too well.

Their friendship had graduated quickly as a lot of things seemed to do in this new world. There wasn’t time to get to know people the way one used to. There had been a couple of nights of safety and beer with him. One night of utter drunkenness with some others in Alexandria. Mostly there had been stolen moments of respite between runs and work details and fear. She had told him a lot of things about her past and intuited a lot about his.

Daryl stirred and turned his head to face her. She smiled down at him. She felt so relaxed with him. Possibly she had never lain naked without even a sheet with anyone in her life. She was honestly amazed at how comfortable they both were.

“Whatcha thinkin’?” he asked somewhat sleepily.

“Lots,” she replied. “Too much to say right now. Also thinkin’ about how perfect your ass is.” She drug her fingertips down to the hollow of his lower back but not quite to his ass. She watched a shiver run through him. Well it is perfect, she thought.

“Sure,” he replied. She could almost hear him roll his eyes. He brushed his knuckles over one of her nipples. He shifted to lay on his side and kissed her nipple, her breast, her shoulder, gently he kissed her lips. He let his lips linger and breathed her in. Then he rolled and stretched like a giant cat, arching his back and groaning. They weren’t young anymore and they would hurt tomorrow. The muscles they had used today were different than the ones they used when killing walkers. When he laid back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, she rested a hand on his stomach just below his chest. He was so tough, so taught. After all this time she was still soft in places, smooth, round. He apparently had no body fat, just exquisite muscle.

She liked touching him. She couldn’t get enough of him. But it nearly broke her heart to really see that his chest was as covered with scars as his back. New ones over older, faded ones. Dark, deep scars alongside barely visible ones. He was a tough motherfucker for sure. Not all of these were from something horrible and scary but how many were? She had so many questions. Which were made since the world ended? Which from before? How many from The Sanctuary? All horribly invasive questions that she would never ask, only wait for him to drop crumbs of information.

“What’s this from?” he asked and she jumped a little. Almost as if he had read her mind he touched one of her scars. It tickled when he did. It wasn’t large but it was noticeable. It sat low on her belly just to the right of center. It had a smaller, less obvious sister on the left.

“Oh,” she rolled half onto her back but didn’t pull away from his caressing fingertips. “Before everything, I had a partial hysterectomy.” She laughed a little. “I didn’t want kids and I had a condition that couldn’t be cured so they took out most of my lady bits. They left one ovary and my cervix. Because of my age I guess, pretty young.”

His eyes were wide but not judgmental. A little concerned perhaps so she explained.

“Endometriosis. A big word that means a lot of pain and bullshit but isn’t usually life threatening. Fortunately for us I made this decision ages ago and that’s why I didn’t freak when you didn’t wear a condom,” she smirked and winked at him.

“So ya can’t ever…?” he trailed off.

“Nope, no baby making equipment in there,” she grinned. She stroked his arm from wrist to shoulder, still trying to touch every inch of his skin. “It was definitely a perk after the world went to shit, no periods either.”

His hand rested on her lower belly, almost spanning the width of her. He felt like a giant sometimes even though she wasn’t particularly short and he wasn’t abnormally tall. She liked the illusion. She sighed, enjoying the weight of his hand, the ease of being with him. She felt his fingers tracing her scar again, finding the other of the pair, following the jagged lines of her stretch marks. Walkers were a great weight loss plan, she hadn’t always had this small body. And she had never let anyone touch those much less felt like she could almost enjoy it, especially with his rough hands. But it did still make her twinge with that familiar insecurity, just a little, and she felt herself accidentally recoil. Without missing a beat Daryl grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of him, kissing her roughly. He held her for a moment, her laying on him, his hands on her ass, her head on his chest.

Her mind raced with all the things she wanted to do, say, ask, and then her stomach growled. She held her breath hoping it had been her imagination until he started laughing. It was contagious. He laid her on the bed, still laughing a bit while she giggled and covered her face with her hands.

“Hungry, huh?” he goaded.

She nodded and answered with a muffled uhuh behind her hands, more giggles. He stood up, grabbed some presumably filthy jeans from the floor, and yanked them on. She couldn’t help watching him, jeans sitting low on his hips, as he walked to the kitchenette.

He came back to the bed and plopped down. He brought what was beginning to be the norm for every meal: part of a loaf of homemade bread, some fruit, some meat jerky that was mostly just salt and probably venison. He sat, legs crossed, barefoot, hair a mess, no shirt, and looked as happy as a little kid with a new toy. He might not smell like he was still in the woods but he ate his food like he still was. This thought made her giggle and he looked up at her with a side-eye that sent her into snorts of laughter. She yanked the sheet over her lap as she sat up to eat before he inhaled everything.

“Chew often, Dixon?” she teased while trying not to inhale a bite of bread.

“I’ll teach ya to laugh at me,” he growled as he crammed the last of his bread in his mouth. She squealed and he pinned her down. Food crushed between them, flew off the bed. He continued chewing loudly and comically while kissing her sides, her stomach, her neck, and chest. His unshaven face tickled her even more. She raked her hands through his hair and laughed harder than she had in years. Her stomach and sides ached with laughter. He finally swallowed the last of his bread and took a deep breath, flopping onto his back with dramatic flair and a huge exhale.

Still struggling to catch her breath Kristina laid her head on his chest. They both stared at the ceiling, small giggles bubbling out of her occasionally. She felt around above her head until she found his arm and she hugged it across her breasts. He maneuvered the sheet down from her chest so there was nothing between their skin and cupped one breast.

Dog had padded into the room to investigate the commotion. He looked at Daryl with accusation.

“Ah shit,” Daryl groaned as he stood up. “Imma take ‘em out.” Before he stepped off the mattress he placed a kiss on her forehead.

She heard them when they came back in: some yipping and a lots of whosagoodboy. Daryl kicked off his boots before sitting on the bed.

“You got one of those nasty rolled cigarettes handy?” she asked.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he went into the living room and came back with a small leather pouch. Like so many guys she had known in high school and college were able to do with weed he balanced the components on his lap. Pinch, roll, lick, voila. He handed her the nearly-perfect cigarette and started working on his own. She scooted up so she was leaning with her back against the wall. Still naked, still relishing being comfortable naked. He lit his cigarette and held the flame out to hers then clicked the lighter shut. He was fastidious in a lot of his actions but not his housekeeping, he dropped the pouch on the floor and sat on the bed facing her. Cigarette clamped in the corner of his mouth he reached down and snagged an empty bottle off the floor for their ashtray.

She adored the way he sat cross legged and grinned at the thought that he hadn’t put his underwear on, grinned that she could take his jeans off and have him again if she wanted. She tapped her ashes into the bottle and picked some tobacco off her lips.

“Damn this shit is rank, Dixon,” she exhaled a cloud of the stale smoke. “But thank you for sharing.”

He grunted toward her, ashed, and took another long drag on his smoke. “It is but it’s all we got. Nobody’s tryin’ to grow anything ya can’t eat.” They smoked mostly in silence.

Kristina put her cigarette out. She stood up to go pee, wobbling a bit on her weak legs. She wasn’t going to take the sheet with her but wasn’t quite ready to walk naked in front of him. She looked down and spotted one of his button down shirts in the floor. She leaned over, holding the wall for balance. He was finishing his cigarette and watching her. She dropped the sheet, slipped the shirt on, and started to button it.

“Where ya goin’?” he mumbled.

“Gotta pee,” she flashed an almost embarrassed smile at him.

“Unh-uh,” he wasn’t smiling. “Take that off.” He tipped his head toward her, indicating the shirt. She groaned in her head, it couldn’t have been that easy. She slowly shrugged the shirt off her shoulders. She hadn’t had time to button it so when she shrugged it started to fall, catching only on her breasts and now-hard nipples. She tugged at the hem and it fell away completely. She was too aware of her breasts while she was standing, how different they looked from when she was laying down. Ugh she thought again because literally every body part she had she now wanted to hide. Wanted him to stop looking at her. He didn’t stop.

“Better,” he said. He jerked his head toward the bathroom and took a long drag on his cigarette. His sign that she was free to go but to do so she had to be naked. She wanted to die. Shrivel up and disappear. But she set her jaw and carefully stepped off the mattress. She was conscious of every imperfection and movement, feeling things she realized she hadn’t felt since before. She wasn’t angry with him exactly, not thrilled but not angry. She felt cracks in her armor. But she put one foot in front of the other and made her way to the bathroom, in reality only a dozen steps or so but in her excruciating thoughts it felt like miles.

He never took his eyes off her after he put out his cigarette. He shifted, adjusted for the increasing erection he was getting, his pants becoming uncomfortable. She didn’t close the door all the way and he listened to everything. Something about her allowing him to hear this excited him. He tugged at his jeans and tried to be still when she came back into the bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of her. She walked toward him carrying the lantern from the bathroom. He hadn’t even noticed that it was almost dark now. It cast an unusual shadow, lighting her from the side where the lantern hung from her hand. Her full hips, the slight slope of her belly meeting the curve above her naked pussy, he couldn’t look at anything but her.

She sat the lantern next to the bed. Before she could get back on the mattress his hands caught her hips and centered her in front of him. He was sitting so low that his eyes were almost level with her pussy and she blushed, hard. Her hands flenched to cover herself and he stopped them. Even in the dim light he could see her blush move down her face and neck and flood her chest. He looked up at her leaning in closer and closer. She was mortified but incredibly grateful that she had kept up shaving at every opportunity. She was pretty sure the end of the world had ushered in the revival of the huge bush but she couldn’t stand it. Somehow shaving her pussy completely felt like armor, powerful, and all signs pointed to Daryl Dixon liking it.

“Damn,” he sighed as he closed the distance and kissed her just above her clit. Kristina felt her head swim, thought she might pass out, and he had her wrists. She couldn’t hold onto him for balance but she also realized he would never let her fall. Her vision blurred but she forced herself to focus on his searching eyes. He was looking up at her. Disheveled hair, scruffy beard, heavy-lidded eyes, and he was kissing. Just kissing but she was shaking all over. And then it wasn’t just kissing.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, exhaling a hum against her. His tongue was slow and gentle. He had never done this before. The porn his brother used to watch didn’t make it feel like this. That stuff made everything look… gross. But none of this was, would be. This felt completely natural. She tasted wonderful, salty and a little bitter but he thought part of that was from their sex earlier, that if he did this first it would be nothing but salt and sweet and whatever this other amazing taste/smell was. He wanted to go slowly, not just for her but because this really did seem natural. He could feel her tremble while he held her. That he wasn’t entirely sure was natural but he was still learning to pay attention to her queues.

He paused and listened, looking up at her. Her breathing was shallow and not at all like how it had been before. This was more like gasping. He stood up and cupped her face in his hands.

“What did I do?” he asked softly, gently.

She shook her head in hands. “Nothing, not you. I need to sit for a moment.”

She sat down on the mattress and had the silliest thought Well fuck, that escalated quickly. She knew what to do but not how to communicate with him in this moment. Especially in a way that wouldn’t wound him, push him away, or make him doubt his instincts, his perfect instincts.

He didn’t reach to comfort her or hold her or touch her at all. He wasn’t afraid or anxious. He was confused and his brow knitted together expressing that but otherwise he was a rock, solid, reliable, there. So she took a deep breath and struggled to find things on her list: 5 green things or something similar. She did reach out for his hand while she scanned the room, sure she looked like a wild animal but not able to care. He held her hand or, more accurately, let his hand be squeezed. He used his other hand to pull the sheet over her. He thought she would want that. She finally mumbled the last brown thing of 5 because goddamn if Daryl didn’t have the most monochromatic life ever with only brown, grey, or black to choose from. This made her smile. She was coming back to herself, grounding. He noticed the smile and moved a little closer to her.

“Hey,” he whispered, searching her face for some clue as to what he needed to do. “Hey. Ya okay?”

“Um, yeah, I will be, I just need…” she mumbled. “Water maybe?” So of course he got her some. She gulped it and breathed and leaned back against the wall.

“Hi,” she opened her eyes and looked at him. “So I can explain that or we can pretend it didn’t happen and talk about it later but I have to tell you either way: not your fault.” She reached for his hand again. He took hers and gently, soothing, rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Ya can tell me anythin,” he said, his shoulders visibly relaxed. “Imma good listener,” he teased her and they both smiled.

“Well, if you were anyone else, Daryl,” she said, “I probably wouldn’t but you are truly the coolest cat, no judgment, and ya have this fundamental understanding that life hands out shit nonstop.” She smiled to soften her words but he looked down at their hands anyway. God now she wanted him closer, pressed against her, wanted that small, safe feeling.

“Do me a kindness, Dixon?” she asked. “Come over here?” He nodded, let her hand go, and sat beside her, back against the wall. She was working up the words, the ways to speak around things, to communicate pretty awful shit without saying it. Plus she didn’t want to talk about it all night or have it tarnish everything they had done before. It was helping that he was next to her, gave her some stability as she stumbled forward with this pseudo-confession.

“So ya know how I told you I had seen shit too, like before, and we talked about some of it, or mostly I talked and you grunted?” she began, throwing him a smile to emphasize the teasing. He wasn’t having it and reached out and took her hand in both of his and just rested them in his lap.

“Well when I was young, younger than I want to say, but it’s important so I have to,” she watched Daryl’s jaw clench. “When I was four years old a man did things… I’m not comfortable talking about. You know what PTSD is?” She continued when he shrugged, yeah/kinda/maybe. “Well it’s a bunch of words that mean ‘something bad happened that fucked you up for a long damn time.’ Most people know it ‘cause soldiers get it from combat. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Means that a trauma was bad enough, wrong enough, that our brains can’t deal with it. Shit, I figure now everyone has it and it’s just the human condition but before it was a diagnosis. Anyway, short version, some people who have this get flashbacks, like the thing is happening again right then and there. Like those Vietnam Vets in movies who hear a helicopter and dive under a table. That shit’s not made up. That is fact. And it fucking sucks.” Her voice broke on the last two words and what she feared would happen, did. She started to cry silently.

God fucking dammit I didn’t want to do this, she yelled in her head. But perfect Dixon only waited and rubbed her hand. She sniffled and gulped some air. She wanted to get this done.

“One of the things he did to me I can see and hear and feel when the flashback comes and unfortunately it’s what you started to do. So I kinda go into survival mode, well my brain does, and I don’t get a choice.” She looked at him, tried to read something in his face this time and was startled to see his eyes were wet. He wasn’t going to cry but she knew then that he had them. She had suspected, as any good psychologist would, that he had PTSD from childhood trauma of some sort but she wasn’t positive his manifested with flashbacks. Now she was. Her protective instincts kicked in and she reached toward him, every intention to ease his pain but he intercepted her. He pressed her back against his chest and she curled her legs up next to his, not quite in his lap. He put both his arms around her and she let her head drop back onto his chest. She closed her eyes.

“So that was not anything you did. And hey, check this out,” she turned a little awkwardly to make sure he was listening. Satisfied she put her head back. “I want you to do it. I mean I really, really do. I want Daryl’s mouth and only his mouth on my cunt.” She felt his hips shift a little when she said the last word. “I just need to work up to it or have some notice. It’s perfectly normal and even wonderful that you want to do that. I just can’t do it without some mental preparation. Maybe you know things like that in your life, ya kind hafta get your mind right first? So yeah, too heavy for you?”

He took a deep breath and cautiously said “Heavy, sure, but I got ya.” He sighed and tightened his arms around her.

“So does that mean you still wanna go down on me? Try again soon?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, the gravelly words vibrating through his chest into her. “Hell yeah I do. Ya make me wanna do a lot.”

“Good, that’s the best answer a woman could hope for.”

Chapter 3

#daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion smut #cw sa mention #tw sa mention #cw ptsd #daryl x oc #daryl dixon x ofc #twd fanfiction #demisexual daryl

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amhrosina · 2 years ago

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finally writing ‘Matt With An Inexperienced Reader’ headcanons!!!!! sos college!matt is going to be making an appearance <3

#when i tell y’all i have had the craziest week of my life #currently binging the new bridgerton show #and the walking dead ofc #daryl dixon the man that you are #whew chile #matt murdock #amhrosina update #amhrosina

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thesoggyraincloud · 2 months ago

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Catching her Chapter 9

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 4000+

edited

Warnings- Allusion's to SA, Drug use, Cannon swearning and physical violnce

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Instead of the comforts of a viable, functioning society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind, a week after the initial outbreak and a day after Quinn had run out of food.

------

She’d been staring, boring her eyes into the wound on Amy's shoulder then to Andreas' haunting eyes- held steady on her sister. Refusing to part from their last embrace. Quinn’s mind worked slowly, lugging information between sinapses, each thought blooming from beyond the abstract sensation of pain radiating across her back.

She felt the bite of tears on her tongue and continued staring.

–

The last time she saw Colton before he left home he was high. As he has been for the majority of time he spent there. She hadn't understood him at the time, living in the kind of bubble that false logic and intellect provided you at the age of nine. A time where any true emotional complexities reflex back against her sheltered mind.

He had snuck back into the house through her window, the scratching of the metal slides pulling against their joints jolting her awake as they usually did.

“Sorry Pooh, go back to bed.” The soft voice of her brother padded the room.

But she was far too excited to go back to sleep, her brother's adventure had left her biting her nails in anticipation at his return.

“Where did you go? Mom said you went to a friend's house, but I heard her and dad talking, they said you ‘Ran away’.” Her voice jumped out of the sheets with her, fixed on her brother.

“Quinnie pooh.” His voice had meant to quieten her, but she just looked up at him. Demanding her answer, running over his form with eyes far too sad and understanding for a little girl her age.

If you had asked Colton at the time, he probably would've said his sister was far too nosey for her own good, and that he regretted getting her those Nancy Drew books for christmas. The novels unlocked some foreign part of his sister’s mind that wiped out her childlike ignorance and replaced it with an observant gremlin that snuck around the house like a B-movie detective. For what it's worth though, he had bought her all the books.

“Okay, I really did go to a friend's place but I didn't tell Mom and Dad. And you can't either, you can't even say I was here lil miss. Promise me.” His voice continued in a whisper despite his sister's shouts, a plea for her to keep quiet.

And he knew that she would understand his words, ‘promise me’ , as an opportunity for her. She couldn't have known the stack of mistakes that would lay against her name in time, so she asked anyway.

“What do I get?” He rolled his eyes in response, pulling out a ten dollar bill.

The girl patted her bed with a yawn and like usual he took his place beside her, she breathed in the sour, smoky smell that radiated from his jacket as it brushed against her. The warmth of his arm cradled her head and she found herself being gripped by the fingers of unconsciousness.

“Mom was really scared, and I missed you. Please stop leaving.” She was half asleep, eyes watering with her yawn as she spoke.

She hadn't realised it at the time, but her now adult mind knew he must have been crushed by that. She could taste the guilt thickening in her throat.

“I missed you too. Mom and I will be okay, but It’s complicated Pooh. It's too complicated for the adults so don't get mad at me for not telling you because you're too little, I know you're not. I will try my hardest to see you more though ok?”

She sniffed and folded around him in a clingy hug, wiping her snot onto his shoulder.

“But I don't want you to leave again.” Her voice was strangled by her tears.

He had only started stroking her hair in response, quietly telling her he was sorry and that he loved her but she had only heard one thing, the only thing she really understood which was that it wasn't going back to how it was before; where they could all be together, happy.

When she woke up he was gone, she didn't tell her parents she had seen him.

–

Daryl's axe landed with a soft ‘thump’ and a squelch as it cracked through the walker's skull, breaking her trace on the sisters.

“She still wont move?” The sheriff had been collecting bodies from around camp along with the group, eliminating any signs of life and gathering them in a pile.

“She won't even talk to us, she's been there all night. I'm not sure what we can do.” Lori’s presence prickled against Quinns skin, frustration seeping through her emotional blockade.

Why even bring it up she wondered, the endeavour was pointless and painful. Only Amy had the right to resolve this in the end, the right to say goodbye to her sister and put a bullet through her skull. Why not just let her?

Looking down and picking at her skin, she dug a nail in and pulled at the ridge; ripping up the stips of flesh to bite down the oncoming anger- the night's exhaustion catching up with them all was only adding to the agony of the situation.

“You leave them alone, that’s what you do.” She spoke for the first time since arriving in the middle of the night, eyes full of indignation for those around her.

“Can't leave Amy like that. We need to deal with her the same as the others.” Shane, ever present alongside Lori, did his best to shove his way into the conversation.

“It's not your place to say what she does and doesn't do with her sister, we don-”

“But it's yours? She's a risk to herself and the group right now.” Shane’s voice penetrated the sentence and didn't give her a chance to finish. How she would wish everyday she suffered from his presence that he was one of the people she didn't have to come back to camp and find alive.

What did she even care at this point, she wouldn't begin to lie and say she was being righteous, more just being provocative for the sake of it. Even so she could just walk away, but it felt like Shane and Lori's presence had lit a fire under her ass.

Before she could snap back a reply, Rick was off, headed over to the weeping woman. She didn't have time to think about saying anything against it, Andrea pulling out her gun and waving the sheriff away within seconds of his presence entering the space she shared with Amy.

“Y'all can’t be serious? Letting that girl hamstring us, the dead bitch is a time bomb!” Daryl was loud, loud enough for Andrea to hear she was sure. That was cruel, had he always been this cold?

“Leave her alone, will you? She's trying to take care of her sister.” She hadn't expected the bite in her voice, the thick emotional warble it hid just beneath venom.

“What do you suggest?” Rick, always the diplomat, breached through the impending explosion with grace, motioning for Daryl to speak.

“Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I could shoot a turkey between the eyes from here.” She was ready to leave, did he really have no care. No integrity or empathy- even with his own brother gone without a goodby.

“No. For god's sake just leave her be.” Lori surprised her with her support, the woman somehow pausing the discussion for a moment but she could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air.

No she wouldn't stay for the rest of this conversation, she didn't hear what else they wanted to say. Not when they treated Amy like a predator and not with the respect of once being Andrea's sister. A living, breathing, smiling and innocent girl who yesterday was making them all laugh. No she wouldn't stay for this desecration.

Her absence drew no objections, she was still in sight of the group at her smaller camp and it wasn't as if she’d really be able to get further than 100 ft without help. At least Daryl stalking off in the opposite direction gave her a moment to herself, Where she could quietly chew two pills and watch the group. Not as individuals casting blame and hurt, but as a living machine turning through a problem, working away at the issues like bees in a hive.

At some point she drifted away, sleep catching up to her. Pulling her away from the hot sun and into cool dark arms that dampened her hearing and quieted her mind. Her sleep was dreamless, a black void expanding over her and allowing her tired mind to rest in its lifeless limbo.

When she awoke the sun was past its peak, crickets chiming against the fresher air, the humidity from the morning subsiding. Amy went alongside it. The camp bustled around, worker bees still in place and busy. Her head hummed with the last vestiges of the oxy, and she leaned back into the bark of the tree and breathed in deeply. Feeling the familiar itch for a cigarette pulsing in her thoughts..

“You seen Daryl?” She caught T-Dog as he hustled past, the larger man shifted his eyes from her.

“Not since earlier.” Without waiting he took back off, leaving her to stretch back up and head over to their small setup.

“Daryl…? Dal?” Her voice carried over before she did and she saw the tent shift before the zip was pulled open revealing her target.

“Dal?” His face pulled into a playful sneer, but he walked over with a small smile anyway.

“You don't like it?” She held herself steady against a moment of insecurity flashing through her mind.

“S’not the worst I’ve been called.” Relief pulled her coy smile into a genuine one at his reply and she shuffled to her spot, sitting down and leaning over to him.

“What have I missed?” He looked less pleased at her question, the muscle above his eyebrow pulled down in a frown.

“Jim got bit. And Olive Oyl and her bitches are fightin over where to go next.” So she’d missed a lot then, leaning back away from her Daryl sucked in a deep breath.

“Before you tell me more, you got a cigarette?” She felt bad for her interruption but she knew he’d probably been needing one too.

“S’last pack.” The disappointment set in instantly, and her mood plummeted from its earlier buzz.

“But I suppose now’s as good a time as any.” He pulled back into the tent and she beamed at the space where he once was.

He shuffled through the opening of the tent once again, shaking the pack and offering her one. She nodded in appreciation, pulling it away and stowing it between her fingers. She suddenly found herself having trouble looking at Dixon, eyes unwittingly pulling themselves to his larger hands. Quickly forcing her gaze away the tree line became her visual sanctuary, surrounding her and absorbing her sight as far as she could see. It chirped back at her and rustled, back to being full of life after the dead silence of the last 12 hours.

“Light?” It flicked to life in her peripheral vision, his hand looming over her face as she automatically brought the cigarette up to her mouth, having averted her eyes as much as she could while pulling in the flame. .

The smoke was harsh in her throat, tasting burnt and dry but she couldn't complain. It did well to settle her mind, bringing it back into her control as she let the silence sit for a moment longer.

“So, where are we going?” It was a strange statement, the word we she thought alludes to a degree of union between them. And despite it being a given with the fact they resided within the same group, it remained a provoking realisation that the use of it felt rather uncomfortable? The thought caused her to purse her lips, heaving her attention back to the moment like a caught dog.

“Shane was whinin’ on about Fort Benning. Then he comes back like a pussy talkin’ up going to the CDC with Rick so we can help Jim. We’re leaving in the morning.” He flicked his arms around as he spoke, distracted from the woman's displeased look. She hated it when he talked like his brother, It left a rotten stain.

“That’s an ugly word.” He looked up in annoyance.

“Quit whinin’ shane.” He spat out, his face perked up like an arrogant cat. It left her reeling at how unexpected his words were but she refused to let him get the satisfaction of a visible reaction, collecting herself with an amused huff.

“Oh Fuck off.” Her dry tone was not lost on him, the man laughing it off and taking in a deep drag of his smoke.

“Yeah, Whatever you say Golilocks.” He was fully laughing now and she felt herself letting go of any frustrations at his earlier words.

“Am I ever gonna live that down?” She rolled her eyes dramatically and swayed toward him, jabbing his arm.

“Not a chance.” She shook her head and dragged on her smoke, blowing up into the sky. The sun was setting now, basking gold over their heads.

When the two separated into their tents for the evening, both felt more alone despite their evening spent together. Their tents felt larger than usual in mind and for Daryl in space too, as they became more aware than before of their lack of company. Rest came uncomfortably, jolting between a half sleep and consciousness until finally relenting, taking them altogether into a fitful slumber.

And when Quinn dreamed, she dreamed of Colton.

—-

“It's not fair!” Her brother's voice was the only mark of his return, once again pushing her from her sleep. And from there she floated into the dim hallway where she listened in on what she knew she shouldn't.

“Don't tell me what's fair Colton.” Mom, she’d never known her voice to be so sharp. Deeper than usual and undercut with anger it sent the small child shrinking back lest she be seen.

“But it's not! She’s your little fucking princess but you couldnt give a shit about me!” Her brother's voice raised, spilling out across the house in a loud bellow, she could see his shadow against the wall if she pressed herself far enough over the railing.

“THATS ENOUGH.” The loudest, and most commanding voice, that of their father. Echoed across the house, most likely reverberating across the ranch and sent her feet flying across the hall back to the safety of her room. Hovering at the threshold she dared to continue her secret mission.

“No, she can’t do a single thing wrong but all I do is fuck up. That's all I am right! The fuck up! The kid you didn't want who doesn't do anything but mess his life up!” His voice was tinged with something she couldn't quite tell, but she recognised her brother was upset and she knew it had something to do with her, the thought left her confused and guilty.

“That’s right kid, you have fucked up.” Her fathers voice again, although much quieter now.

“William stop.” Mom never called dad by his name, and a second later she heard the shuffle of feet leaving the room, heading deeper into the house away from the chaos.

“Well if you don't want me so much maybe I just wont come back next time I leave.” Her brother's voice was acrid in her ears as she registered the meaning of his words, tears already threatening to spill.

“You're gonna end up dead on the streets, you’ll kill your mother!” Dads voice filled the space between them and she fought her fear against the panic of her brother leaving, edging closer to the stairs.

“She doesn't give a shit about me! All she cares about is that brat!”

There was a crash and the boy appeared below her, pulling at the entrance door with fury.

Her feet hit the runner, soft fabric bouncing back against her bare skin as she ran down the stairs to him. Each stride lasted a thousand miles and she watched his legs cross the threshold. Her chest felt tight and her side stabbed, but she had no choice as she watched the litany of expressions on her brother's face morph together and not one she so much as recognised.

“I’m Sorry, please don't leave!” Her voice shrieked across the white as the door opened and cold air from outside met the foyer.

“Colton don't go please!” She was almost at the bottom of the stairs now, one last turn to go for eternity.

“COLTON” Her voice came out, deeper and older then what her childlike body could’ve ever produced, but such was the nature of dreams.

But his back was turning, the door was closing and her feet were still tumbling down those stairs.

Was that still her voice, or was it the little girls. Still just a few more steps to go.

“COLTON.” There would be no response, in her dream or life as she was snatched from her sleep.

—---

The first thing she registered was pain radiating across her spine and a rough hand on her arm, pulling her up into a seated position. The Tension pulled across her face at the action and she took in a panicked gasp of air.

“Shit sorry.” Daryl’s arm came behind her, providing her support to lean back on.

“Is it morning?” The tent was still dark, the only light spilling from Daryl’s torch.

“No. You were shoutin’. Thought you’d bring a pack of walkers down on us.” His voice was still heavy with sleep, and it took her a moment to realise the hunter was more dishevelled than usual. Clothes clearly thrown on in haste to get to her tent, she felt her mind hum a tune of guilt knowing she’d just put everyone in danger again.

“Fuck sorry.”

“S’nothin. But maybe you should start sleeping in the truck.” She nodded in agreement but her mind was distracted, still wrapped up the last vestiges of the dream.

“You want help taking yer shit ova’ there?” His response made her chuckle, short and dry as her mask pulled around her. She was awake now, fully alert and she knew there was little chance she would sleep again.

“Don’t bother, I am not sleeping again tonight.” Her voice pulled into an over dramatic tone and she pulled herself up. Removing Daryl's support and Her skin prickled from its absence, missing the warmth against the cold night air.

“Then let's just put it all in the truck now.” He insisted, She couldn't help the look she gave him, full of suspicion and confusion. But she relented to his ask, moving to pick up her boots until they were pushed into her hand.

“Thanks.” she said. In the privacy of her thoughts she bristled in wariness, metaphorical hackles raised.

She directed him to the bags that were already packed, ready to load up while she hustled on pulling everything into the last remaining one. Daryl left for the van and she rushed to fill it with the last few of her more private things. Kneeling on the ground, she tried her hardest to discreetly look out the dark screen mesh of the tent for Daryl's figure in the Dark. Finding no sign of him she pulled the bottles from the bottom of her sleeping bag, pushing a few pills into her mouth and crushing it between her teeth. The overly chemical taste was taking some getting used to again but she exhaled hard and swallowed grimly, it would all be worth it soon, eagerly anticipating their warmth.

A quiet rustle of fabric near the tent door broke her peace, and she scrambled to roll the fabric of the sleeping bag around the loud bottles, pills clattering against the hard plastic of their container- begging to spill her secrets. She gritted her teeth and prayed it wasn't loud enough to be heard by the hunter. When the ‘door’ was pulled open, she was already pushing the offending material into the bottom of her hiking bag, taking care to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Leave the tent till morning. I ain't helpin’ you take that thing down in the dark.” He was still obscured by the enveloping darkness from above, half in and out of the light.

“Sure.” She pulled the bag over her shoulder and made for the exit, Daryl offering her a hand and pulling her through the thin tent door into the blue night.

The Journey to the truck was walked in silence, only the nocturnal stirrings from a few woodland creatures echoed out to them. It pulled Quinn's eyes away from the man next to her and back into the treeline. If she wanted she could just walk into it, carry herself into the old bark and the darkness that followed. Let it absorb her to roam inside it. She could taste its call to her in the night air, whisperings of absolution on her tongue tempting her feet to turn in their place.

All too soon they reached the dirty red truck, the sound of metal scraping against metal filling the air as the door was pulled open for her. Pilfering her attention away from the forest and back to him. They remained in silence for a prolonged pause, letting the sound of their breathing fill the cab.

“You were shoutin’, Colton?” He broke the silence and the last semblance of Quinns emotional dam.

“He’s my-” Her face twisted, pinching in the spilling grief. How does one answer the question with the weight it deserved? With the kind of words that he deserved because saying her brother felt useless in encapsulating who Colton actually was.

“He was my big brother.” But the words she needed didn't exist, or she just didnt know them.

“Was.” It could've been a question, but the way Daryl parroted her felt like he was answering it.

“Yeah. Was.” She came off harsher than needed, but couldn't bring herself to let up her defensive nature. It came second nature to her the moment he was brought up, protecting his memory from judgement.

“What was he like?” She smiled, the first thoughts on her mind being the best of him, quickly though the bad ones flowed like vinegar against her memory. She put those back into the boxes where they escaped, tonight he was her brother and he was good.

“He was so much older than me, I'm not sure if I even realised half the time because he would still hang out with his lame little sister. He even used to play doll house with me and he was like in 10th Grade.” She sniggered like Daryl could share the memory with her, its sun tinged edges singed her eyes and made them water. Leaning further back against the cool leather seat and twisting to Daryl she sucked in a breath ready to continue.

“You might have liked him though, he was really good with a bow. Went hunting with my dad every weekend he could, he was a lot like our dad. Maybe better, used to run circles around him on the ranch. Hell he was practically running the thing by the time I was getting on my first horse.” Her voice was thick and her sniffles were the only reveal of her tears in the dark truck, Daryl found himself shuffling slightly toward her, both now face to face in the cramped cab.

“Sounds like he was a good guy.” She nodded in the dark, her face close enough to feel his hot breath fan across her skin. She watched his face for a few seconds too long and his brows furrowed, she pulled from him with an awkward cough.

“You've been holdin’ out on me. You lived on’a ranch and I been’ calling ya’ a City girl.” He huffed out in mock annoyance.

Her snort filled the car, ungracefully pushing out an arm to wack Daryl as she chuckled. Her eyes half closed, creasing the skin around them with how wide her smile pulled across her face.

“City girl.” She repeated him, metaphorically examining the phrase, “Man I like that. Makes me feel like I’m all fancy.” She lifted her hands and cupped her face in a dramatic flare barely visible in the dark.

“You are fancy.” He chortled back, bumping her in the shoulder and feeling the pushback of her arm against his. The feeling of static between them pulled through the cab and they returned to their rhythmic silence in peace.

The sun had hours yet to bathe the woods in its first touches, and the two fell into a peaceful sleep on the cool leather. Bodies leaning against cracked leather and soft skin enveloped in quiet dreams of abstract warmth.

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A/N; This is not edited so please dont judge- I will get to it lmfao. Sorry if this has less action then the last chapters but i wanted to go into some detail on Quinns background and i kinda hated what i had written before for this chapter so literally speed wrote this after finally deciding on some key plot elements for later in the series.

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