#dixon brothers au

[heythereofficerfriendly]

merle: yer ready to get down n dirty with some biters, samurai?

michonne: don't say it like that

i love the idea of merle and michonne on guard duty at the prison and just full of banter that becomes eventual friends...urgh. <3

[alternis]

had some very good thoughts and decided to scrap the zsasz subplot from third eye au and replace the character with an original villain named 'cut-throat', who shiva was hired to kill before a Wrench got thrown in the plans via tim. this allows me a bit more leeway to customise tim's trauma in fun original ways, and also gives a meta-reason why this villain never appeared in real canon (bc he would have gotten ganked by our girl sandy anyway)

[mystic-writings]

ink on skin | daryl dixon

PAIRING — daryl dixon x fem!soulmate!reader

REQUEST — anon — hello! could you do an angsty story with daryl dixon? fem reader please <3 

SUMMARY — daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long ago, even with the words marked on his wrist. and then he found you.

WARNINGS — canon-typical scenarios, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, soulmate au

WORD COUNT — 3,573

NOTES — this was supposed to be part of a really long collection of prompt drabbles from years ago but i found it in my docs and turned it into something a lot longer <3 it’s not the best (i couldn't for the life of me work out a good ending), but i think this might be one of my faves i’ve written bc of how poetic the first few paragraphs are 

masterlist | navigation | requests are open!

Daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long before the world ended. He gave up on it when he was just a boy, when his mother died and his father stopped showing love. When he was told by his peers, his brother, his father, that no one would ever want him to stay with them, because he just wouldn’t be wanted by anyone. 

He grew to loathe the words on his wrist from a very young age. He did everything he could to cover them — makeup he stole from his aunt, long-sleeved shirts, bracelets, you name it. He’d even gotten used to not glancing at the ink scribed on his left wrist, making sure that no matter what, his eyes never fell on them. 

But even when he hated the words that sat there, waiting to be spoken by someone who cared, someone who wanted him, he couldn’t deny the countless nights he spent awake, tracing each letter and imagining what his soulmate’s voice sounded like. How would they say those three little words? What would they look like? When would he meet them? 

Daryl missed the feeling of being wanted. He only ever felt it when he was with his mother, when he was a young boy who didn’t know anything but that the sky was blue and soulmates were real and his father was mean. He hasn’t felt wanted — truly wanted — for a long, long time, not even when he found the group. 

Over time, with the loathing came the forgetting of the words marked on his wrist. By the time the world ended, Daryl had almost completely abandoned the reality of having a soulmate, and he rarely ever thought about it. In fact, he felt some relief in the fact that the world had ended. The chances of him finding ‘the one’ had lowered significantly now that most of the population was undead, and he had no reason to worry about being better for someone just to make it seem like he was worth loving anymore. 

For almost three years, he lived with the relief of likely not having a soulmate anymore. 

Today was an ordinary day, especially for the Alexandrians. At least, it seemed like an ordinary day. The sun was shining, people were milling around, crops were growing. But underneath the surface was something that no one wanted to address. Fear. 

Negan was beginning his wrath on the community that could barely keep itself alive. He demanded supplies, and he demanded a lot of them. So, half of Daryl’s people had gone out on runs to look for stuff. Food, clothes, medicine, whatever they could bring back. Daryl was among that group, taking a car as opposed to his motorbike and going to a high school with Carol.

At first, he volunteered to go alone, but she reasoned with him. It was too big of an area for him to cover on his own, she said. He could get hurt, or worse. And it was Carol, how could he deny her? She was his best friend, after all. So, Daryl drove in silence, Carol in the passenger seat, staring curiously at him. 

The feeling of her eyes on his annoyed him to no end, and eventually, the archer caved. 

“There somethin’ on my face or wha’?”

“Nothing,” Carol chirped. “Just… thinking.” 

“‘Bout wha’?” Daryl asked, sparing a glance at the woman. 

Carol shrugged, eyeing her friend. “About those words, on your arm.” 

Daryl tensed, shifting his posture to hopefully hide them from Carol’s view. “And?”

“Well, they’re not gone, for one.” She stated, a lilt in her voice. “And they’re… interesting first words for a soulmate, don’t you think?”

“How am I supposed ta know? I ain’t never seen anyone else’s tattoos. And it ain’t like I got a good chance of meetin’ ‘em, with all this shit goin’ on.” Daryl grumbled, watching Carol shrug and avert her gaze, looking ahead at the road. 

“Just saying… I wouldn’t give up hope, Daryl.” 

How would Carol know whether or not he should give up hope? Sure, she’d been the person closest to him aside from Rick, but even she knew nothing about his soulmate. Hell, he was still trying to figure out how she knew exactly what words marked his wrist. Still, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued the drive in silence, as though nothing had been spoken between the pair. 

Somehow, the high school Daryl and Carol had arrived at seemed to be completely abandoned. 

There were no walkers roaming around outside the grounds, most of the windows were intact, and the parking lot was practically void of cars. It was a small town, but from what Daryl could remember of the high schools they’d driven past or looted during their time at the prison, he figured most high schools in small towns — like this one, in particular — would’ve been turned into aid camps for refugees. 

Even with no signs of life, Carol and Daryl kept their weapons up as they entered through the main doors. 

Flashlight beams swept over every inch of the school, and it became clear as to why there were no walkers. Rotting bodies littered the linoleum floors, dried blood splattered over tile and wall and metal lockers. A stench that the pair had, unfortunately, gotten used to, permeated the air, filling their guts with a permanent feeling of nausea. 

The first place they’d found was the nurse’s office, and while there wasn’t much in the way of medicines, there were supplies that Alexandria was lacking. Gauze, tension wraps, bandaids, generic over the counter medicines like ibuprofen and Gravol. Whatever was left, Carol loaded into the backpack she’d brought, filling it to the brim with what they found. 

“Cafeteria should be this way,” she nodded down the hall, flashlight sweeping across the path before they exited. 

Passing by empty classroom after empty classroom, Daryl said, “Migh’ need some of this stuff for later, when the kids get older, ya know? Be good for ‘em to learn.” 

“Yeah, it would be,” Carol nodded, eyes landing on a set of double doors to her right. “Maybe we’ll come back for all that stuff later.” 

Daryl grunted in affirmation, about to push the cafeteria door open with his shoulder. He paused as a loud thump echoed down the hall. His eyes flashed, followed by the beam of his flashlight, landing on a singular closed door, a plastic chair propped under the handle. 

“Leave it,” Carol advised. “It’s just a walker.” 

Daryl nodded, but his eyes lingered on the door for a moment. Deciding to leave it be, he pushed the cafeteria door open, finding it empty yet again. The pair crossed the large area to the hot table, where they could already see some canned goods lying about on the tables. 

“If there were people here,” Carol began, “why wouldn’t they have taken the food with them when they left?”

“Why’s that matter?” Daryl asked, propping his crossbow against the wall and pulling out his knife. He knelt by the door to the kitchen, putting his flashlight down and wedging the blade between the frame. “‘S more for us, ‘s all that matters. Don’ gotta question everythin’,” 

Carol said nothing, keeping her flashlight trained on the door for Daryl to use as extra light. 

After prying open the door, the pair used a cart to transport the mounds of large, sealed canned goods. With Carol pulling and Daryl pushing, they’d made quick work of the first two trips they needed to make, loading their trunk as best as they were able. 

On their way out of the third and final trip, Carol held the cafeteria door open as Daryl pushed the half-full cart, stopping abruptly as the door started to swing shut behind him. 

“What? What is it?”

“I hear somethin’,” Daryl muttered, straining his ears to listen for the noise again. He listened for what felt like decades, and just when he thought he was going crazy, he heard it again. “There,”

“What? I didn’t hear anything,” Carol said. 

“Nah, I heard it. Comin’ from this way,” he gestured down the part of the hall they hadn’t bothered exploring. Slowly, focused entirely on identifying the noise, Daryl crept down the hall, a confused Carol following him. 

Just as he’d been passing the room with the chair blocking the door, Daryl heard two sounds: a dull thunk, and a hiccuping cry. He stopped, turning to the door that had drawn his attention before. 

“Daryl, it’s just a walker,” Carol insisted. “Let’s go, we got what we need.” 

The archer didn’t listen, footfalls nearly silent against the linoleum as he approached the door, knife raised. In quick motions, Daryl pulled the chair from the door, sending it down the hall with a resounding screech, grabbing at the handle and pulling it open. The hinges squeaked as he peered within the dark, small room — a supply closet, he’d discerned from the cleaning products lining the shelves. All sense of danger left him when he wasn’t met with a walker, but instead a girl, her body half-laying, half-sitting, propped against the wall. 

Daryl’s eyes widened, taking in her form. She was covered head to toe in dirt and grime, save for the clear tear tracks down her cheeks and neck. Her hair was matted, and the side of her calf, just above the ankle, was wrapped in dirtied bandages. Her only protection was a small knife, covered in dried blood, the handle of which rested in her limp hand. 

“Holy shit,” Daryl blurted, catching the attention of Carol, but barely gaining acknowledgement from the girl before him. 

Carol, peeking over Daryl’s shoulder, moved first. She darted around the archer’s broad frame, kneeling down at the girl’s calf. Peeling the bandage from her skin, Carol sighed in relief, finding a deep gash where she feared there might have been a bite mark. “She’s hurt,” Carol remarked, moving closer to search for a pulse. “And barely alive.” 

“Go bring the cart out, I’ll carry her out,” Daryl’s eyes never left the girl’s form as Carol left. Carefully, he scooped the girl into his arms, relief flooding him when a weak, protesting groan fell from her chapped lips.

There was no telling how long she’d been stuck in that closet, without food or water, simply left to die. And based on the chair propped against the door… it had been intentional. 

Daryl carried her to the car with ease, having Carol assist him as he laid you across the back seat, taking the time to make sure she would be secure as they drove. After confirming that everything was packed into the trunk, Daryl peeled out of the school parking lot, the drive back to Alexandria being much shorter than the one to the school. 

The sun was setting when the car passed the gates, and from there, things passed in a flurry of motion. Daryl carried the girl to the infirmary himself, watching Tara and Denise move about hastily to heal this mystery woman. 

“What happened to her?” Denise asked, cutting the bandage from her ankle. 

“Dunno,” Daryl huffed. “Found her like tha’. Musta been trapped for a while. Few days without water, at least.”

Denise only nodded, working to clean the wound and stitch it. She barely had the focus to think about the wound itself, how deep it was and the likelihood of infection setting in. Tara worked at cleaning the girl’s skin, inserting an IV into her hand like she’d been taught. 

The sun had set by the time they were done, the girl changed into new clothes and her skin cleaned of grime. Tara had been sitting by her side when Daryl came back to the infirmary, after going to the Grimes home to eat something and give as much information as he could to Rick and Michonne. 

“How’s she doin’?”

“As good as she can,” Tara smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime soon, she’s like— super dehydrated. It’s been an hour and I’ve had to change the bag thingy twice already.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, pulling up a chair on the other side of the girl’s bedside. He didn’t know much about her — or anything, really, not even her name — but even with her chapped lips and sickly look, he thought she was beautiful. And he also knew that whoever had left her in that closet had done so on purpose. He figured it might have been because of her injury, but it was cruel no matter which way he tried to paint it. 

He just hoped she’d be okay when she woke up. 

It took the mystery girl three days to wake up. Managing her health at a time where there weren’t any real supplies to use had been difficult, and it took all of Denise’s focus to make sure she had enough fluids. 

Waking up in an unfamiliar, oddly clean, room, on a bed, with no stench of rotting bodies wafting through the air was confusing, terrifying, and oddly comforting. 

Your body woke with a jolt, eyes snapping open like you’d woken from a nightmare of sorts. There was movement to your right, and you jumped back from it, frantic eyes finding a blonde girl attempting to calm you without touching you as best as she was able. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re safe.” She’d said, stressing the last word. “One of our guys found you in a supply closet and brought you here. He— He said you were half dead.” 

Pure fear and confusion kept your mouth shut. The girl kept talking, asking questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to any of it. The pain in your leg hadn’t been of any help, pulsing and throbbing with every slight movement. 

By the time she’d realized you weren’t going to respond, she sighed and moved over to the kitchen to your right. When she came back, she placed some food and a tall glass of water on the bedside table, backing away slowly as she spoke. “I’m Denise. The man who found you, Daryl, is on his way to see you. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable talking to him?”

The idea of speaking to anyone, even the man you vaguely remember before passing out due to dehydration, made your stomach roll. Still, you picked up the plate, gratefully digging into the food you were given. Drinking the water, you relished the feeling of it sliding down your throat. Water was something you hadn’t had in what felt like years, and you’d be damned if you didn’t cherish what you’d been given. 

As you finished up, the door creaked open, and your body stiffened. You watched a burly, reserved man step inside, his movements hesitant. You watched Denise approach, whispering something to him — likely about you. Presuming this was Daryl, you willed yourself to relax, even as you pulled your knees tight to your chest, arms locked around them. 

You watched him approach the bedside, standing awkwardly beside you as you looked into his eyes. Strikingly blue, surprisingly soft. 

“Hey. Ya alright?” He asked. His voice was rough, southern accent awfully thick. But his words sounded soft, somehow. Small. Like he was trying not to frighten you. 

All you could manage was a nod. He huffed, nodding back, clearly somewhat relieved that you were at least communicating somehow. You kept your eyes on him, tracing every inch of his face and his clothes. It was clear to you, though you were unsure of how, that he must’ve been built for this world. Daryl seemed out of place in this clean, crisp, white room, and when you pictured him in the woods, he seemed to blend right in. 

After a moment, he turned and went back to talk to Denise. They spoke in hushed whispers, and you thought back to the exchange you’d just had. Your mind had been reeling, so caught up in the entire situation, that the words Daryl had spoken didn’t register. And neither did the tingling across the inside of your wrist. 

Pulling down the sleeve of your shirt, your fingers grazed at the skin where the words you’d been waiting your whole life for the right person to say used to be. With wide eyes, you found the words gone, replaced by a slight scar of where they had once been inscribed. It was surreal, and definitely not the time. 

“Hey,” Daryl called out as he came to stand beside you again, voice still soft despite its natural roughness. “Doc said ya can leave if ya want. I know ya don’t know me, but if ya want… ya can stay with me. I got a cot ya can sleep on, if yer okay with tha’,” 

You mustered up a small smile, nodding at the man before you — your soulmate. You’d been wishing to find him your entire life, but with the world ending, you put that aspiration aside. You certainly hadn’t expected to find him when you were at the brink of death, trapped by the selfish people you’d once considered family. 

Carefully, you slipped out from the blankets, stumbling as you put weight on your injured leg. Luckily, Daryl caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist as the other guided your arm to rest around his neck. Wordlessly, you watched his cheeks flush red as he shifted his weight before you began walking. 

It was painful, getting to the house he lived in. Not because of your leg, but because of the proximity. Along with the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word, not even to him. 

As you settled into the large basement room he’d taken, he told you more about the community, about his people. The ones who lived here — Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith — were family to him. The others were the same, but they all lived in different homes. He laid out the cot as you sat on the bed, watching intently as his voice reverberated around the room, rattling your heart in your chest. 

“I know ya don’t talk much,” he huffed, rooting through a bag of his and pulling something out. “But ya can write, right?”

You nodded, watching a smile play on his lips as he handed you a notepad and pen. 

“Can ya tell me yer name, at least? So we can call ya somethin’ that ain’t jus’ ‘girl’?”

Smiling, you wrote out your name and handed the paper back to him. Your smile widened when you heard him say your name, meeting his eyes as he looked back up at you. 

“Ya can talk, right?” You nodded. 

Daryl nodded, leaving the pen and paper with you, just in case. “‘M gonna go find Rick, tell him yer stayin’ with me fer now. Alright?”

The thought of Daryl leaving you, of being alone, in an unfamiliar place, with no light aside from the window at the very top of the wall, shocked the fear back into you. As he turned, heading for the door that led to the stairs, your breath caught in your throat. As quickly as you were able, you reached out, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling him back to face you. 

“Please, don’t leave.” You whispered, voice gravelly and strained. It surprised even you, eyes widening as you met Daryl’s gaze. But his carried a certain fear as his eyes tore from your own, locking onto the wrist you’d caught. 

Following his line of sight, your heart stuttered, watching the ink on his arm begin to fade into his skin, into the same imprinted scar of words that you had. 

“Yer…” he breathed, eyes filling with tears.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes watering, watching him as his eyes remained on his wrist. “Your soulmate.” 

Daryl pulled his wrist from your delicate hold, his mind on overdrive. He’d thought it ironic, that the apocalypse had only pushed him closer to his soulmate instead of further apart. And now, the words he’d been desperate to cover throughout his life were finally gone, and the woman that the universe decided was meant for him was sitting on his bed, saved from the cusp of death because of him. All because he couldn’t take his mind off the closet with the chair blocking the door. 

His hand came to his wrist, rubbing at the skin that was no longer tainted with words he thought would never be spoken. And despite all of the fear Daryl carried with him over the years, the gratefulness he had for the apocalypse and the relief that he’d never have to let down his soulmate when they saw that he wasn’t good enough for them, he felt none of it when he looked at you. 

All he could feel was happy. Relief, not that the world had ended, but that you were safe and healthy. 

And, all of a sudden, meeting your eyes, Daryl was okay with the idea of having a soulmate. All the words that had been spat his way growing up, all the times he was desperate to pretend like he didn’t have a soulmate didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was you. 

It would take time for Daryl to feel like he deserved you, he knew that. But you were here, and you were alive. That was enough for now.

Forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

Daryl Dixon taglist: @katrina765 @hp-hogwartsexpress @ellablossom @alexxavicry @avabh12 (open!)

taglist form here!

[1427]

something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove. 

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar. 

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost. 

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be? 

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room. 

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief. 

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.” 

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh. 

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.” 

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?” 

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room. 

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway. 

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there. 

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else. 

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet. 

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl. 

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence. 

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything. 

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end. 

Why won’t he look? 

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing. 

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward. 

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.” 

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.” 

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally. 

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know. 

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more. 

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady. 

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him. 

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing. 

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.  

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground. 

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?” 

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all. 

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do. 

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile. 

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going. 

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot. 

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly. 

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them. 

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more. 

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him. 

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans. 

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened. 

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him. 

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water. 

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

 You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person. 

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room. 

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?” 

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’. 

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth. 

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant. 

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body. 

He needed more. He needed to watch you again. 

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that. 

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him. 

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you. 

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained. 

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly. 

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own. 

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good. 

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on. 

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t. 

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you. 

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

[intoxicated-chan]

❜𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl never liked it when the neighborhood cop Shane came around. You, oblivious to Shane’s attempts to flirt with you and don’t see the fuming Daryl.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “You” by Ari Abdul. Those who are waiting for the first chapter of JUDAS, it’s almost done. I’m just finishing the final touches before it’s uploaded. This is also very rushed, I’m sorry.

Word Count ➳ 900

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, MODERN AU/NO OUTBREAK, DUB-CON, SHANE, jealous Daryl, sexual content, p-in-v, protected sex, phone sex, hair pulling, pet names (baby, darlin’), overstimulation, little dacryphilia…

“Goddammit Daryl!” You clutched the sheets under you as Daryl pulled your head back by your hair. “S-Slow down!” You cried out.

Daryl seemed to ignore your plea, his eyes remained on your ass and how it jiggled by each hard thrust. He continuously slammed into your g-spot, doing so without mercy.

You had no idea what’s gotten into him, he was perfectly fine this morning…

But Daryl knew what was wrong, he was angry, maybe at you but most of his anger was focused on that shitty cop.

Shane Walsh.

Daryl never believed Shane’s bullshit excuses whenever he came around your neighborhood. It was like he knew when Daryl was around, he knew of his record and his brother’s which is why he always stood back and remained silent.

Daryl was out on your driveway working on your beat-up car. He used his arm to wipe away the layer of sweat on his forehead. You had brought out a glass of ice-cold water for him, you went back inside to retrieve a rag as he asked.

“Dixon!”

Daryl froze at that voice, he cursed Shane under his breath. He turned his head slightly, enough to get a view of Shane who exited his car and walked up to him.

“(Y/n) home?” He asked, his hands on his belt as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.

“Busy.” He grunted in response, going back to your car.

“Mind if check?” He took a couple of steps towards your door before Daryl stood in his way.

“I’ll get ‘er.” He didn’t bother taking a second glance at him because he knew Shane had won… Yet fucking again.

You had come down the stairs, a couple of rags in hand. “I didn’t think one would be enough-“

“Cop ‘ere.” He told you, taking the rags. “Lookin’ for ya.”

“Shane? Again?” You lifted an eyebrow and peered through your window to see Shane standing there, giving you a wave. “What’s he here for?”

“The hell should I know.”

You made your way outside, seeing Shane leaning up against his patrol car. “Hey, Shane, what brings you here?”

“Just checkin’ in, makin’ sure you’re alright. Y’know, keepin’ the neighborhood safe.” Shane’s eyes lingered down your neck, he fixed his posture, getting himself a better look at your cleavage.

“Well, everythin’ is fine here. Nothin’ to report.” You let out an awkward chuckle, fixing your shirt.

Back in the house, Daryl stayed by the window, jaw clenched as his hands formed into fists.

Shane leaned in, way too close for comfort. “You free tonight?”

“I- What?” It took you a couple of seconds before his words sunk in. “No, no. I’ll be here… with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shane mocked. “Hard to believe a redneck like Daryl Dixon could be your boyfriend.”

“You don’t know shit, Shane. Find some other woman to ask out.” You sighed, growing frustrated.

Shane pulled out his pen and notepad, writing something. “It’s only a matter of time before he disappoints you. Call me when he’s gone or you want somethin’ better.” Ripping the paper, took your hand, and pushed into it.

Shane Walsh had crossed a line…

Daryl remembered snatching the number out of your hands and nearly ran out of the house just to punch him. You dragged him back to the room just to get him to call him.

“D-Daryl!” You mewled, shutting your eyes as you felt your hot tears slip.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.” He growled. He didn’t stop, even when you tightened around his cock, another orgasm coming down on you.

He released his hold on your hair, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He picked up his phone and began to dial the number. He left it by your head and on speaker.

“C’mon baby, let ‘im hear you.” He turned you over onto your back and shoved a pillow under your hips, letting him go deeper inside of you.

It felt like you were screaming, you couldn’t focus anymore. Not on Daryl, not on the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall… It’s a surprise that nobody had called to complain.

“Keep ya eyes on me darlin’.” He said, his hands coming to your wrists to keep them from covering your face when you tried to. “Look at me.” He demanded.

You opened your eyes to meet his blue ones, he licked his lips as his eyes were clouded.

Your nails dug into your hands. “Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” You chanted his name over and over again, your legs coming around his hips to pull him closer.

That’s when you felt the pit again. “Daryl-!”

“C’mon, cum ‘round my cock. Let ‘im know who’s makin’ you feel like this, scream like this.” Daryl let out one final grunt as he came.

Your eyes shut instinctively as your back arched from the bed. Everything became white noise as you were sure you screamed louder than you could, waves and ripples.

Daryl slummed over your body, too tired to push him off or say anything.

He picked up the phone and smirked when he saw the call’s duration, he could hear panting on the other side. He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, hearing it hit something.

“Stay with me darlin’.” Daryl sneered at your fucked out face. “I ain’t gonna be done with ya for a long time.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

[dixons-sunshine]

Study Buddy | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Your exams were coming up soon. While studying for your history exam, you offered to tutor your boyfriend. However, Daryl accidentally revealed that he's much smarter at school than he gave himself credit for.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: This sucks. I don't like this at all, but I really wanted to get some actual writing done, so I powered through. I hope you like this nonetheless.

The late afternoon sun was starting its slow descend beyond the hills. The birds' chirps were slowly being replaced by those of crickets, and the owls were making their presence known one by one. There was a lone pigeon resting on the bench outside your trailer home, but the unsuspecting creature was startled by the rumbling of a stopping truck.

Daryl Dixon got out of the truck his brother had unofficially given him, a shopping bag with multiple snacks and a few drinks in his hand. He slammed the driver's side door shut behind him before walking up the small steps into your trailer. Without even really thinking about it, Daryl walked down the familiar narrow hallway that lead to your room.

The sound of your door opening diverted your attention away from the history textbook that rested on your bed. An enormous smile spread across your face at the sight of your handsome boyfriend. You got up from the bed and walked over to him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a soft, tender kiss.

Daryl, shy as ever, could feel his face heat up at your actions, but he didn't resist. His hand that wasn't holding the bag rested on the small of your back, his fingers lightly gripping at your sweater. When you pulled back, he gave you a lopsided smile, his eyes holding a softness that he reserved only for you.

You smiled at him, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted him in a whisper. “Took you long enough.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, sunshine. Got caught up at the store,” he explained, pulling back from your hold slightly to reach into the bag and take out a soda for you. “Got yer favourite for ya.”

You gently took the drink from his hands, sending him a look of appreciation. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks taking on the colour of the red rose bush outside your window. “Ya might've mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well,” you began, popping the lid of the can open. “Then I definitely don't tell you that enough. I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.” Daryl smiled a small smile, before moving to plop down on your bed. He picked up the textbook that rested on your bed and started flipping through it, his eyes skimming over the pages. “Ya already started studyin'?”

You sat down next to him, placing the can of soda on your nightstand. “Only to make flashcards.” To prove your point, you picked up the aforementioned flashcards from your nightstand. “I was just skimming through for good measure. Just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important.” You made yourself more comfortable on the bed, adjusting the flashcards. “You ready to get some studying done?”

Daryl nodded. “How's this gon' work?” he asked.

“Well, I wanna see how much you know, so I'm gonna start asking random questions to see what we need to pay special attention to.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Do yer worst.”

You smirked playfully. “I'll try my best.” You shuffled the cards, selecting a random one. “Okay, let's start easy. When did the Second World War start?”

“September 1st, 1939. Tha's when it was generally considered to have started. S'when the Nazi's invaded Poland,” Daryl replied with zero hesitation, absentmindedly twirling one of the loose threads on your blanket. “The UK and France officially declared war on the third, two days after the invasion.”

You looked at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows, impressed by the way he answered the question so easily and proceeded to answer two separate questions without being asked to do so. You knew Daryl was smart, there was no doubt about that, but you were still a bit surprised. Daryl made it no secret to you that he wasn't the best student, so his perfect answer to the question was a nice surprise.

“Correct,” you told him with a smile. “Next question: How many alliances were there in the Second World War, and what were they called?”

Daryl pondered over the question for a moment. “Two. The Allies and the Axis Powers, right?”

You flipped the flashcard over and read the answer, humming in approval. “Correct again. You're on a roll, Dar.”

Daryl shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ya ain't askin' any hard questions. Everybody knows the answers to those.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, shuffling through the flashcards again to find a different question. “Okay, then, smart guy. How about this one: Which cities did the United States detonate atomic bombs over?”

“Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Two cities in Japan. The bombs were dropped on August 6th and August 9th. The US wanted to force the Japanese to surrender.”

“Okay, time out,” you started, carelessly tossing the flashcards to the side. “Please tell me again how you're not smart? Because those were perfect answers and you haven't even read through the textbook yet.”

Daryl shrugged again, averting his eyes to the bed. “Ain't smart. Jus' heard the teacher talkin' 'bout it in class. Ain't tha' hard to remember it. 'Sides, history is interestin'. S'the only class I dun' mind attendin'.”

You laughed in disbelief, looking at your boyfriend in wonder. “You manage to find a way to surprise me every day. I thought I knew everything about you, and now I learn something new. You're a history nerd.”

Daryl scoffed incredulously. “Ain't no damn nerd. Jus' 'cause I know some history doesn't mean m'a nerd.”

“Sure,” you started, sending him a playful smile. “So I know a lot about science and I get called a nerd by you, but you know a lot about history and I can't call you a nerd?”

“Damn straight,” Daryl replied, his tone playful. “Yer a nerd. Tha's one of the many reasons why I fell fer ya.”

“I love you, too, Mr I-know-that-Hitler-was-born-on-the-30th-of-April.”

“He was born on the 20th. He shot himself on the 30th, ten days after his birthday.” You smirked, and Daryl instantly knew that he had fallen into your trap. “Oh, fuck ya fer tha'.”

“My point has been proven,” you said with a victorious smile, leaning forward to let your lips hover over Daryl's. “No need to be ashamed of being a nerd. I find it extremely hot.”

Daryl hummed, his lips grazing against yours. “Ya find it hot tha' I know 'bout the world war? Then yer gon' find it really hot when we get to the Cold War.”

“Colour me intrigued,” you whispered, before closing the gap between the two of you.

Daryl's lips moved against yours hungrily. Soon, he gently guided you to lay on your back, hovering over you as his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. You giggled, leaning your head back to allow him more access.

“You might be really smart in history, Dar, but I'm not. I need to study,” you told him.

Daryl hummed, but his kisses didn't cease. “Ya'll be fine,” he mumbled against your skin. “'Sides, we got a human anatomy exam comin' up soon. I suck at tha'. I need to get some studyin' done fer tha'.”

You laughed lightly, yielding to the desire. Well, studying would just have to wait. You had other, much more fun activities planned for the time being.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[darylmydix]

RIDE OR DIE | daryl dixon [coming soon]

❝your folks were right to send you away. i ain’t good for ya. wasn’t then, and sure as shit ain’t now.❞

summary: you were always warned to keep away from troublemakers like daryl dixon, but when an intense romance forms, you find yourself pregnant. with no other way to keep you two apart, your disapproving parents send you away to live with your aunt in virginia. now as years have passed, and your father is on his deathbed, you’re forced to return to your hometown in georgia; it’s a bittersweet homecoming as you’re reunited with old friends, old enemies, and your old lover, who is now apart of a dangerous biker gang lead by his older brother.

pairings: biker gang!daryl dixon x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, lovers to exes, exes to lovers, baby daddy!daryl dixon, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug use, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, strong language, twd au, 18+, minors dni.

©darylmydix. please do not repost.

000

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Here you will find the full list of my works for Daryl Dixon and other characters portrayed by Norman Reedus. [Main masterlist]

Requests are OPEN

⬇️ Masterlist under the cut! ⬇️ [My Ao3]

★ indicates smut, 18+ content.

Series

Paintings & Picture frames [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7]

No apocalypse AU. Daryl and reader are studying at the same college and are assigned orientation project parters. [ONGOING, HIATUS]

Wings [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

Judith plays matchmaker by stealing your jacket and making it match Daryl’s

Oneshots

Records of forgotten times

Digging through old music brings back sad memories, but also happy talks of the future.

Sinful ★

Father Daryl enjoys some private moments with the not-really nun.

Ruppel

You're chilling on the couch watching your favorite show. Daryl joins you because he wants to learn about your interests.

Shielded (Fantasy AU)

Everyone openly shows and uses their powers, except for Daryl. Until you get hurt.

Bad ideas ★

During a laundry round while home alone you find some ..'used' items of Daryl's to fuck yourself with and now have to work through the concequences.

Girlfriend [Pt.1] [Pt.2]

Daryl is in a sucky relationship but doesn't see it at first. Reader helps him see and later shows him how a good partnership works.

Hunters Ink

One tattoo leads to many more when you fall head over heels with the artist.

Creep (modern AU)

Finding an apartment in this new town was easy, but now you needed a job.

Daisy chains

Daryl gets separated after the prison attack. He comes across a home for him and his kid to hole up in. Your home.

Beef

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?"

Rough times

Requested: Hi! Would you be willing to maybe do a one shot with Daryl x reader in a pre established relationship but the reader is pregnant with a child that doesn't belong to him and she isn't proud of? (non-con if you're comfortable with that) Some angst about the reader being worried he won't love her once he finds out 👀

The fun has just begun

Two men snatch you away for some fun. Before they even get anywhere you and Daryl have turned the tables and have some fun of your own. CW: Torture

Forest Guardian [pt.1] [pt.2]

You plan a week long vacation to a luxury cabin. Luxury is nowhere near what you find.

Not your usual undead Vamp!AU

Which undead do you choose? The ones outside, or the one in front of you?

Breakfast ★ Vamp!AU

Locked in a bathroom stall with a hungry vampire was not how you planned to spent your time hiding from a herd.

Drabbles

Period cramp relief

Photographer Daryl

Different kinds of sex w/ Daryl

You needed Daryl for something

"Hey buddy, what are you doing here?"

"Carol gave me some cookies to share!"

Rick and Daryl go out on a run

Old man Daryl

Showing Daryl how beautiful he is ★

Worshipping Daryl's worn body

Daryl read you like a book ★ Vamp!AU

🐺Were!Daryl 🦊Were!Reader

🐺Series🐺

Shared interests [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] ★

Grimes!reader. Your father shares information about the man he considers his brother in support of your interests. Those interests take a different turn than he expected..

🐺Multichapters🐺

🐺Monsters among us [Pt.1] [Pt.2]

Your water breaks in the middle of nowhere but you find the prison in time for them to help you. There you meet the man of your nightmares. CW: childbirth

🐺🦊Feral for you [Pt.1] [Pt.2★]

Request. Daryl develops a crush on a soft and sweet lady, afraid to ask you out and ruin your sweetness, only to learn later on your have a feral side as well,

🐺Oneshots🐺

🐺 His girls (xOFCs)

Alexandria's new residents find a dog. And his very handsome owner.

🐺 Full moon meetings

You get stuck in the woods, surrounded by walkers and are saved by ..something.

🐺 Night shifts

During a night shift with Rick he sends you to investigate movement in the woods, knowing it would end with two of his group members coming home together.

🐺 Dog person ★

You’re Dog’s new favorite human and Daryl gets jealous. Lucky for him you’re also good with his dog-side.

🐺 Creature Feature ★

After overhearing your spilled dirty little secret of old world fantasies, Daryl suddenly feels like he does have a chance to get you into bed with him.

🐺 Unexpected

This can be read as a continuation of Dog Person. Reader is pregnant with Daryl’s pups and has to hide it from the community until they can leave for Daryl’s cabin. CW: childbirth

🐺 Roses for the ones left behind

Daryl gets taken and leaves a pregnant reader, not knowing her child and partner aren’t human. CW: childbirth

🐺 New comforts ★ alt. ending ★

No one needed to know that sex between the two of you was for human Daryl only. Alt.: Rick now knows.

🐺 Witch hunt

Thanks to an emotional slip-up you almost risk your home in Alexandria.

🐺 Arrows & Rags

You help a wounded creature who leads you back to its den, where you find the one person you thought you had lost in the walker attack.

🐺 Why didn't you tell me?

You follow Daryl into the woods on the one night he asked you to stay away.

🐺🦊 The softer the skin, the sharper the teeth

Request. WereDaryl and Glen find a she wolf (in human form) out and talk to her about coming to the prison. She and Daryl are mates

🐺 Shame

Your most private moments are shared with the intent to drive you away. And it amost worked.

🐺 Not a monster

Request. Beauty and the Beast inspired fic. Set during Alexandria times.

🐺 Domesticated

Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship

🐺 Bath time

Daryl's distaste for showers rubbed off on his children.

🐺 Forbidden ★

Strickt parents and werewolves don't mix, so you run.

🐺🦊 Found

Daryl finds a young girl and takes her home. He adopts her and learns she's a wolf too.

🐺 Savior ★

You show a little too much interest in Negan's new prisoner so he uses you as a test subject. CW: Non-con, forced impreg

🐺 King of the cage

In the apocalypse, entertainment is hard to come by. Until you hear of underground groups fighting with anything nonhuman.. CW: Descriptive violence and murder.

🐺King and his Queen ★

[KING series pt.2] After Daryl's match he gets treated like royalty by his loving partner.

🐺 Instincts [Pt.1] [Pt.2]

Daryl finds a woman with her newborn pup, taking them into the group. Slowly their bond grows stronger.

🐺 Rules of Nature

Daryl gets hurt on a simple hunting trip and reader patches him up.

🐺 Get rid of it

You and Daryl never fought, until you did. Daryl relives old traumas while you stay at Hilltop.

🦊 The bridge home

Daryl has to introduce his exraordinary girlfriend by accident. (teeny bit of smut at the start)

🐺 Monster outside the walls

A warning about a monster outside of the Alexandrian walls takes a weird turn as new residents turn out to be trouble.

🐺 Demons are a girl's best friend ★

You hide from the rain in a church, not knowing a very interesting beast already claimed the place as his home.

🐺Drabbles🐺

🦊 Daryl was out on a hunt > Daryl liked being around her > Daryl has never been so proud

🐺 Daryl hated full moon these days.

🐺 You, Carol and Daryl go out on a run.

🐺 "Man, 's colder than a witch's tit."

🐺 You and Daryl had a great life.

🐺 Daryl came home early today.

🐺 Daryl saves you

🐺 You were all sitting around the bonfire

🐺 Daryl came home from a run. (xOFCs)

🐺 Cramps

The adventures of Daryl the werewolf and his witch girlfriend.

Inked Sigils. ★

Fate brought you together. Spells finally brought you family

Bored ★

You tagged along with your boyfriend who ‘just needed a minute’, but you were so bored..

Momma's boy ★

You find your boyfriend all alone and desperate in your apartment, so you help him out. Again.

Help wanted ★

Request "Fuck me if I’m wrong but scud just being pounced on by a desperate werewolf girl in heat would kinda be hot"

Warm & fuzzy

You just love him. It doesn’t matter what the others think

Much fun indeed ★

A summary of what being with the biker has thought you over time.

A biker's true loves ★

Request: can you do a story with funny sonny before his teeth got all messed up, younger and with female reader. super smutty. then maybe time jump and they are still together even after his looks have changed?

Coming soon??

Double Stuffed ★ Daryl/Scud/reader

It's your birthday so you get to have twice the fun!

[ichorai]

sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy. 

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified. 

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face. 

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop. 

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of. 

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk. 

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt. 

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight. 

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set. 

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready. 

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group. 

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm. 

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort. 

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon. 

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table. 

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly. 

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign. 

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt. 

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear. 

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up. 

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded. 

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach. 

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead. 

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet. 

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through. 

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was. 

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well. 

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV. 

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried. 

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry. 

It was then that the RV came to another stop. 

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features. 

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence. 

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders. 

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year. 

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry. 

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more. 

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you. 

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!” 

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face. 

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself. 

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face. 

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated. 

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you. 

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away. 

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route. 

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form. 

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you. 

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides. 

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck. 

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught. 

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you. 

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back. 

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago. 

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges. 

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression. 

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him. 

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man. 

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on. 

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway. 

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you. 

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face. 

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll. 

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!” 

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?” 

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine. 

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went. 

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham. 

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!” 

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it. 

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek. 

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him. 

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.” 

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.” 

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream. 

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat. 

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over. 

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!” 

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out. 

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again. 

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood. 

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him. 

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs. 

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest. 

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls. 

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan. 

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.” 

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple. 

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move. 

“Kid… now.” 

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man. 

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan. 

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative. 

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?” 

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?” 

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes. 

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.” 

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off. 

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head. 

“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief. 

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now. 

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?” 

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.” 

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards. 

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!” 

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today. 

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter. 

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (Part II)

II. On the road

MASTERLIST

Summary: You face your first challenges with your new “team”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (slowburn)

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, this chapter is particularly hard, if you had seen the series you know what’s coming, THREATS of SA to a minor and to an adult, shooting people, murder, throwing axes, blood, RIck munchin on someone’s throat 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: As always, I will not describe the reader, the only description about her is that she is not from the US, I don't specify where she is from either. My Walt Disney complex is attacking me again because -again- my reader won’t have any family or parents with her (or that were with her and she saw die), I believe this will give her some sort of “freedom” and the sense that even if she saw “Death” up close and personal, and horrible things she still doesn’t have that cruelty and trauma of witnessing family get killed in front of her.

You started walking, walking, walking. You still had a few hours of light to find another place to camp out, far away from the group that stormed the house. Just across that group of houses, you encountered tracks, train tracks, and you started walking along them.

You spend the night on an old train station, those small ones in the middle of nowhere, you took shifts to keep an eye on things.

Rick wouldn’t let you out of his sight

And you tried to stay calm, he didn't know you, so you did what was expected of you, kept watch like you had done for the last months, helped to make food and snacks. You didn’t dare to ask much, so the silences between you were a bit uncomfortable.

You were super curious about them, but again, they didn’t trust you, and why should they? so you’d think 

It was the third night with them, you were on the roof when Rick joined you

“Don’t take this the wrong way”, he started in whispers, “but you don’t strike me as the kind of person who would last this long, out here, alone”, he said in a friendly tone, you look back at him, amused

“Well, looks can be deceiving”, you muttered

“Have you received military training or something?”, this was a nice change

“No, not really, I lived on a farm, we hunted and that sort of stuff”, you said lightly, he looked at you and nodded, “Maybe I watched too many action movies, those were my favorites”, you said, with fond memories in your mind, “you were a policeman, right?”

“How did you know?”, he asked, surprised 

“When I looked at you for the very first time I had this immediate feeling of shame, like I was doing something wrong, so…”, he laughed a bit, “I knew”

“Yeah, we evoked that on people”, he said lightly, “I’m sorry you got stranded here, on foreign lands”, you nodded

“Thank you”, you said after a long breath, “I probably won’t ever see my family again and… it's hard to face that reality”

“Where are they?”, he asked

“My family lives in a really small town, and an hour away, they have a farm”, you said lowly, “a farm on a freaking island”, your felt his surprised gaze on you, “I’m sure my brother got them out, my parents, he has big trucks, and he knows how to hunt, he has guns, he knows how to fish, they have cattle…he began farming a bit ago”, you said with a breath of relief, “they are in the best possible place, and I…”

“In one of the worst”, he whispered

“I just really hope they can mourn me”, you whispered, “that they can be at peace with me gone, not knowing what happened to me, and I really… because you are right, everyday I wonder how I got so lucky so survive this long, so I feel like I’m living on borrowed time”

“You can’t think like that if you want to survive”, muttered Rick, “you need to fight for it, every single day”, you nodded. You heard moans and grumbles. There was a full moon today, and clear sky so you saw the fucker coming out of the woods, limping towards the structure you were in, reaching towards you with with its putrid hands. You grabbed your gun with your silencer and shot him straight in the head, quieting him once and for all, and dropping him

You both sighed, as you kept listening to the quiet night. 

You let out a strangled whimper. Your family had wanted you to stay home, but you wanted to do this fancy masters degree.

“Have you… lost people too?”, you asked him

“My wife, my best friend, my…”, he choked so you only nodded

“I’m very sorry”, you mumbled, he nodded

“We were a big group, I’m hoping I can still find some of them”

“I’m sure they are out there somewhere”, you said with a hint of hope, if the rest of them were like Rick, Michonne and Carl, you really believed that the more the merrier, this could really be something. But still, you didn’t want to get too attached in case things went south 

The next day also found you walking together, Michonne and Carl played at “who could walk longer on the tracks”, and it was quite entertaining to watch, even though Rick wanted to speed things along. They still haven’t told you the next steps. But you were following the tracks hoping they’ll lead you to somewhere.

You have seen posters and maps of some sort of sanctuary, called terminus, if they ask you? it didn’t sound quite right, the maps seemed old and maybe they were, maybe it got overrun, but Rick and Michonne still wanted to check it out

This time, when the sun fell and the night came over you, they just wanted to sleep on the open road. You found a car that was in a pretty good state, so Carl took preference, and locked himself in to sleep for a bit. 

You were super scared to be alone in the woods at night, but you didn’t want to say that outloud, so you just grabbed the smallest and softest of flashlights and dived into the woods, it was the call of nature, nothing you could do.

The good part about “walkers” is that they groaned and moaned, so they were easy to spot, especially at night, so you weren’t concerned. Although, you did know that sometimes they entered this “sleep” state, only awakened when a human was near, so you had to be careful about that as well.

After you had done your business, you decided to make a round, all around where Michonne and Rick were talking and Carl was sleeping, maybe it was customary for you at this point, being awake at night. An instinct pulling you into the night, connecting with nature.

When you thought you had done a full lap, you realized that you got a bit lost, you cursed yourself thinking you had counted your steps, clearly you were wrong

You found the street, and by then, you could hear voices.

You first saw a big man by the car, you could only see his silhouette, as the only source of light was the moon and the fire Rick and Michonne had lit up 

“We are gonna kill you Rick, not before Dan has his way with your son, and Tony with the lady here…”, you heard someone say, as you came closer, quietly, you realized a man was holding Rick at gunpoint, and another had Michonne.

How the fuck they sneaked past you? you had no clue. You stood there, watching the situation unfold, you didn’t know what to do. 

“TEN!”, You grabbed the gun, and unlocked it, you had to help them. You don’t care who those men were, Rick, Michonne and Carl were your group now, you had to defend them. “NINE… EIGHT”

“WAIT!”, Another man, from the other side of the car, appeared

“You stopped me at eight Daryl!”, the man said. This strange man walked up towards RIck and Michonne, and only then you realized two more men were right behind him, your vision impaired by the vehicle between you, you tried to stay in the shadows, you couldn’t go in guns blazing if that would mean one of your group could end up hurt.

“Just hold up!”, he said softly, trying to calm things down

“This is the guy who killed Lou!”, muttered the fifth man, “we got nothing to talk about”, there were five hostile men, one of them, right in front of you, eyeing Carl who was inside the car

“The thing ‘bout now-a-days is we got nothin’ but time”, the ringleader held Rick at gunpoint, they were tightly squeezed together, no space for movement, “say your piece Daryl”

“These people”, the man said, “you’re gonna let ‘em go”, that surprised you, but still you raised your gun to the creep, “these are good people”, he muttered

“I think Lou would disagree with you on that”, RIck had told you he had to take a guy out in the house, this might be the reckoning, “I have to speak for him because your friend here strangled him in a bathroom, let him turn, and come after us”, 

“You want blood, I get it, take it from me, man”, this strange man, just threw his weapon, a badass crossbow, into the floor and offered himself up to the maniac. There was a dramatic silence

“This man killed our friend”, you did not have good visibility, but you could hear every breath, “but you say he’s good people, you see? that right there… that is a lie”, his voice dropped an octave and you knew that meant trouble, “IT’S A LIE”, the two men behind him grabbed him and started beating him up, “teach him fellas! teach him all the way!”, the car moved when they pushed and beat him against it. Distracting you, so you couldn’t help when the fat man in front of you opened the door to the car, and dragged Carl out of it.

“YOU LET HIM BE!”, you heard the scream of Rick

You couldn’t move, if you shot “Dan”, then the others could shoot RIck and Michonne, and besides…

DId you had it in you? to kill?

You had done it once, it kept you awake with guilt

They kept beating the man they called Daryl, making your skin crawl, to hear fist against flesh, moans and groans from the man that clearly knew RIck, -in the good sense-, he was probably part of the group RIck was seeking so desperately 

“... First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we are gonna have the girl, then the boy, and then we’re gonna kill you, and then we’ll be squared”, you heard him proclaim. You looked in front of you, the fat man, with a knife in his hand, and…

Oh fuck no.

Without even thinking about it, you had your gun up and…

You took the shot and in less than a second you drew a whole in the back of the man’s head. 

Before he even dropped to the floor you helped Carl push him off of him. The boy was a whimpering, scared mess, and now that you uncovered yourself, by pure instincts alone, you grabbed him and placed him behind you, away from the guns that were now pointing at you.

In all happened in seconds

When Rick’s eyes anchored themselves at you, he seemed to nod, and then he moved at the speed of lightning, pushing all of his body backwards, a shot made your ears ring, but he had managed to free himself from the other group’s leader, that served as a good distraction as you shot against the man that had Michonne, who was also distracted, your bullet got lodged on his arm, making him scream, that gave Michone the time and space to kick the bastard, making him drop his gun

“Daryl!”, screamed Carl behind you, you looked now with more visibility, and saw the beating was getting worse. He had managed to punch one of the men out of his way, but still was fighting with the other. You grabbed your ax with your other hand, right as he was being pushed against the hood of the car again, then grabbed and pulled backwards towards the other man.

You were even better at throwing axes, -something you discovered in the damn apocalypse-

“DUCK!”, you screamed at the bowman, and he did, just at the same time you threw your ax, slaying the man that was right behind him

But you knew that wasn’t going to finish the job, you jumped and climbed over the hood of the car between you and you threw yourself at the man screaming with your ax nailed in the middle of his chest. You shot him in the head, not even thinking. You fell haphazardly on the floor, twisted your uncle a bit.

Fuck this people

When you turned around Daryl was beating the crap out of this other guy, Michone had shot the man that was holding her and Rick…

Oh Rick

In the midst of screams, he dropped the man, who was bleeding profusely from his neck. When you raised your eyes back again you saw that…

Rick’s mouth was dripping blood, as he spitted out a chunk of meat and more blood

From a second to the next everything went quiet, the archer turned to you after he left that man a moaning mess on the ground, you shared looks, and you offered him your gun. He took it, and put the man out of his misery with one shot on the head.

The adrenaline quickly left you, and you started shaking.

Your kill count just went up to three with one assistance.

You must have whimpered because they all turned to you

Rick went to hug Carl tightly, as did Michonne, the man, Daryl turned back to you, his face was made a bleeding mess, but he nodded when he gave you your gun back. You received it, putting it back in your holster

You told him your name, offering your hand for you to shake, he nodded

“Daryl”, he said, shaking your hand back, although it was more like a growl. You could tell he was this gruff man, his shaggy hair a bit long, covering his eyes, naked arms on display, he was a badass

“You take it you were a part of RIck’s group?”, you asked, and he barely nodded, “we just met three days ago”, you offered as an explanation.

Carl went around the car and hugged you tightly, that took you by surprise, but you gladly hugged him back

“Are you alright?”, you asked, he only nodded against you

You were sleeping in the back of the jeep, pleasantly, as Carl slept on the back seat, cuddled with Michonne.

Rick and Daryl were sharing a moment

“Who was tha’?”, he asked

“Carl found her sleeping on a roof three days ago”, said Rick, they shared looks, “before this, she had only killed one man”

“Now she is up to three”, said Dayl nodding

“We had our doubts at first, but… after tonight…”

“She is one of the good ones”, muttered Daryl

“She is looking up to be a good addition”, he completed, nodding 

Post chapter notes: reader was like, “ah hell no, that’s my future husband you fucks” haha

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Somewhere only we know

Part 2

Part 2

Young Daryl Dixon x fem reader

Synopsis- No outbreak and modern ish day AU (set in 2007-2010 era) Reader moves to the Georgia mountains, to live with her dad for her final year of school, as her mum is going travelling with her new husband. She meets a shy redneck boy with a tragic background, who immediately captures her heart.

Warnings - mentions of abuse, tragic upbringings, mentions of injury, feelings, friends to lovers, judgemental town people, readers dad is a sweetheart, Daryl and reader start falling in love, soft smut so 18+ only, Merle is a dick, cuss words, Daryl and reader navigating high school together, my awful writing, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Word count - 5.4K

_______________________________________

Saturday morning had come faster than you had anticipated, granted it was only eight hours of sleep that separated you from asking Daryl to meet. But still it had felt like no hours had passed at all. You were so excited to see him again this morning but so anxious too, why are you thinking of this as if you’re going on a date, you’re not. This is two almost friends meeting up for a coffee and a walk, you needed to calm down!

Sighing at yourself for your ridiculous inner monologue, you pulled yourself together and got dressed before you were officially running late. Pulling on your ripped jeans and a nirvana hoodie you grabbed your phone and sent Daryl a quick message “Now leaving mine, I’ll see you soon”.

Grabbing your keys you raced to the door shouting “I’m now off out to meet Daryl dad, I’ll be back before dinner”, “ Alright honey bee, make sure to message me if plans change” he responds. “Will do, bye dad”, with that you rushed out to your new but ‘old’ car. You felt incredibly lucky your dad bought you a little run around to get you about. It made things a lot easier to have your own car, it meant your dad didn’t have to drop you to school everyday, and it was the first time you’d owned your own vehicle.

Just as you were starting the engine your phone pinged “Hey, I’m already er, wat coffee do ya drink?” He’s there already? Are you late? Checking the dash 9:45am no your not late yet, he’s just early “Wow your early! I usually have a cappuccino one sugar, I’ll be there in ten!” You smile feeling almost giddy, he must have been looking forward to seeing you too, then you scald yourself for thinking that, he’s just being nice.

Arriving at the lake you spot him sitting on a bench watching the water, cutting off the engine you swallow a nervous gulp as you exit the car. You have no clue why your stomach is swirling with butterflies, it isn’t the first day the two of you have spent time together. You must really be starting to like this boy you think, as you gently pace your way over to him.

Turning to you as he hears you approach, a large grin crosses his face and you determine yeah your really starting to like this boy. “Hey Daryl” you smile, “Hey” he replies handing you your coffee, “Oh thank you, you didn’t have too!” You gushed, “It’s no problem, think of it as a thank ya fer yestarday” he responds with a shrug. You smile at him taking the coffee and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, watching as his face turns beet red.

Not wanting to embarrass him further you say “Shall we take a walk then?” Motioning with your hand. “Yer sure” he mumbles still blushing from your quick peck.

Walking along side the water your talk about everything that comes to mind, you realise you can well and truly be yourself around Daryl, and it’s a really refreshing feeling. As your barrel out a story of your eccentric mother he just watches you with a small smile, “So she literally just takes her shoes off and dances in the puddle, right after being told to move on! She never listens to anyone telling her what to do, it was always super embarrassing as a kid, but now I kinda admire her for it” you laugh.

He retells a story of his brother nearly dying because he was so drunk, and Daryl saving his ass, only for Merle to rip into Daryl for not saving the booze. “Wow your brother sounds like a right pain, I’d of been thankful to have my life in tact” you affirm, “Yer you’d hav thought he’d of been happy I saved his ass, but nah, he was more worried about the beers” he agrees laughing with you.

You were both so submerged in your conversation, you didn’t notice the lady from the shop walking along with her husband. Nor did you see the judgemental looks on their faces, as the lady walked towards you, urgency in her footsteps. “Well hi there sweetie, I thought I warned you about getting involved with this boy” she jabbed voice still sickly sweet. You blanked in that moment, just stared at her in disbelief that she had the audacity to come over to you both, let alone say these harsh things.

“Excuse me” you stammer, still in absolute shock.

“I said I told you this boy was nothing but trouble honey, you don’t want to be tarnished in this town before you even start your life here, do you?” She presses.

You turn to look at Daryl and the sight broke your heart, he was looking down towards his feet, brown hair shielding his face while he kicks the dust with his feet. He looks so broken, so sad, but also like he’s used to this and that upsets you even more. Without think you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together, and much to your surprise he let you, even if he stared at you in confusion.

“Who I choose to be involved with is none of your business, and to be frank you don’t know Daryl, you’ve never taken the time to get to know him as a person, and if we are judging people on their families here, then I hope your kids aren’t as judgemental, condescending and rude as you, otherwise we will have problems when I start school Monday” and with that you walk off pulling Daryl with you, leaving the couple stood there with their mouths agape, not quite believing the way you stood up to their bullying.

Once you were a safe distance away you turned your attention to Daryl again “You ok?” You ask timidly, hoping you haven’t crossed a line he didn’t want crossed. “Yer, uhhh no ones ever stood up for me like tha before……. Thanks” he stammers, looking at your in earnest. You smile warmly at him, “Of course, if you let me I’ll always be here to stand up for you” you reply. He just gives you a small smile before looking at the ground again, cheeks and ears once more turning pink. He can’t quite believe the effect you have on him, he’s never felt like this before about anyone. No ones ever really been there for him in his life, not even Merle. This is a new territory for him and he doesn’t really know how to deal with it, but he knows the last thing he wants to do is push you away. So he gives a slight smile and looks at the ground, while giving your hand a small squeeze.

For the rest of the walk you don’t let go of his hand, moreover he doesn’t try to let go either, and you both can’t help the butterflies that stir up a storm in your stomachs, smiles never leave your faces while there’s what feels like static energy pulling you both together.

_______________________________________

When you arrive home that afternoon you heard your dad on the phone, he sounded incredibly frustrated. “Did she cuss at you?” He asks.

“No so from what your telling me is, she stood up for herself and her friend, as she didn’t instigate the conversation, you did. She didn’t cuss at you, she didn’t use physical force, and you want me to punish my daughter for not letting you bully her? Well in that case you can forget it, in fact I’m proud of her for standing up for herself!” Then he hangs up with a deep sigh, before noticing you standing there watching the scene unfold.

“You’re not mad at me?” You ask, “No honey bee, I’m not mad at you, I’m actually rather proud of you for having the courage to do what’s right! I’m just frustrated at the situation, I don’t want things to be hard for you down here, it’s a small town and gossip spreads like the plague” he explains calmer than you’d expect he would. “I understand dad, but she just stormed over to me and started, I froze to begin with, I didn’t know what to say I’ve never seen anyone have the audacity to do that before. In Arizona people just keep to themselves, no one cares what others are doing, it’s a big adjustment for me.” You mumble.

“I know honey, I know” he sighs pulling you in for a comforting side hug, “I am proud of you though, your kindness always shines. And Daryl is a sweet boy, he helps out at the garage so I’ve met him a few times, he’s always shy but he’s a nice lad, always super helpful” your dad mentions. “Yeah he told me today he has an apprenticeship there, and he will be working there full time once he finishes school” you comment. “He’s a great guy dad, and I don’t know why everyone feels like they can be so cruel” you frown. He gets enough cruelty at home without the rest of the town making his life even more difficult.

“I know honey bee, why don’t you go get cleaned up and we can cook some dinner together?” Your dad offers, “Yeah ok that sounds good” you reply before heading upstairs for a shower.

The rest of the evening goes by without any more issues, but you can’t help replaying the scene that happened today in your head, you still felt so angry that anyone could treat someone like that, as if he wasn’t a human being with feelings too. Although with the new feelings swirling in you for Daryl, you think you’re starting to take it more personal than you would have before.

_______________________________________

Monday comes about in a blink of an eye, your first day of school and your currently sat at the principals desk listening to your introductory talk. She hands you a welcome pack and a timetable. “This should be everything you need, if you have any issues or questions feel free to pop back in and ask, I’ll be on hand all this whole week.” She kindly offers, “Your dad mentioned you’ve already become friends with mr Dixon, so I’ve put you in the same form class, as I thought it may help you settle in if you have a friend, I know he could definitely benefit from it too” she explains with a warm smile, and you think to yourself ok not everyone in this towns so bad after all, it will be nice to have someone else on your side.

Entering your new form room you notice Daryl sat at the back of the class, head down looking at the sheet he’s currently doodling on, he hasn’t noticed you yet so you take the time to watch him for a moment, admiring the way he is so adorably absorbed in what he’s doing.

The teacher breaks your train of thought by introducing you to the class “Morning everyone, this here is y/n y/l/n, she has just moved here from Arizona, I’m sure that you will offer her a warm welcome and any help she needs finding her feet” he asserted. “Hello y/n” the class says in unison, and all you can think is how humiliating this is, your eyes meet Daryl's brilliant blues and it grounds you, for a moment you don’t feel so unbelievably uncomfortable. He gives you an encouraging smile, so you look at the teacher for instruction. “I hear you already have a friend here so if you’d like to take a seat with him that’s fine with me” he motions in whisper, so only you can hear him as the rest of the class go back to chattering to their classmates.

You nod, before heading to the back of the class plopping yourself down next to Daryl “Hey” you beam happy to see him again, two days has felt a little too long and you’re both generally happy to see each other. “Yer sure ya want ta be seen with me?” He asks voice full of worry, “I’m incredibly sure, your my favourite person in this town, well other than my dad of course” you admit, turning red again he gives you a small grin and a gentle nod before looking at his sketch pad once more. You don’t miss the classes eyes on you both, or their hushed whispers to one another as they watch you and Daryl interact.

As he looks up catching their judgemental stares, you take his hand in yours under the desk giving it a comforting squeeze, a silent way of saying ignore them, don’t worry I’m here for you. With that you both get on with the rest of the lesson, hands intwined under the table.

Your first month of school passed by in a blur, you’ve made a few other friends along the way, a kind girl called Ali short for Alison, who was a math whiz and just as shy as you and Daryl were. You introduced Daryl to her and the rest of the group, with little encouragement they seem to slowly accept him into their little friendship clan. The others in the group were nice too, a boy called Matt who was a computer nerd, he was so clever that you struggled to keep up with what he was saying, another boy called Greg who played the drums and dungeons and dragons, also loving the game you suggested that everyone here start a campaign. This began a cascade of planning evening meet ups, and creating a whole fantasy world you can turn into a great game.

The last in the group was a loud boisterous girl called Gemma, she was as energetic as a puppy on speed. But she also seemed kind, honest (sometimes brutally so) and fun, although you were sure she only hung in this group because she was so obviously in love with Greg.

This new circle of friends seemed to be the cast outs, so they were the perfect group for you and Daryl to make friends with. They weren’t judgemental, they didn’t bully others and they were good people.

Today you were all sat around your ‘regular’ lunch table, with Greg going over his plans for the D&D campaign, asking Daryl for his opinions, and if he could draw some art for it. This made your heart swell, because Daryl actually agreed to do it! It was so nice to see him open up to others.

“So if you could draw this creature here, oh! And maybe a dragon, bright fire in orange and yellows?” Greg animatedly asks Daryl, “Yer I can do tha” Daryl agrees, you smile holding his hand under the lunch table, you begin drawing small circles on his palm with your finger. It had become normal for you both now, holding hands. No one ever mentions it although Ali sometimes smiles noticing you both interlock your fingers, a knowing look on her face, watching you both quietly she can tell feelings are surfacing between you two, even if you haven’t noticed yet yourselves.

You and Daryl had only grown closer, he came for dinner a few times a week now. Your dad was always happy to have him over, he fully supported your friendship, but even he could see the shift between the two of you, he could see the way you looked at Daryl, and the way Daryl gazed at you like you hung the moon in the sky. He was unsure for a while, but then decided Daryl was a much kinder boy for you to be with than a jock or one of the judgemental assholes who lived in this town. He genuinely liked Daryl, and hoped that having him over more often lessoned the abuse he could receive if he was at home.

Still listening to Greg ramble on you felt your phone buzz in your pocket ‘Hey Honey bee, just out shopping so I wanted to know if Daryl's over for dinner tonight? Xx”

“Hey Dar, my dad wants to know if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight?” You ask him, effectively muting Greg’s rambling. “Uh yer sure, got no where else ta be” he drawls, “Great I’ll let him know” you grin. You loved it when he came over for dinner it meant there’s a whole evening where you’re not worrying about his safety at home, plus you also love spending extra time with him. Whether it’s laughing with your dad, bubble wars when you wash up, or helping him with homework, it was just great being with him.

“Yeah dad he’d love too, thanks :) xx”

Buzz

“Ok great, I was thinking we could make homemade pizza together? Could be fun? Xx”

“That sounds great! Yeah let’s do that! Xx”

Buzz

“Great! Xx”

You smile, you’re incredibly lucky to have a dad like yours! He was so kind and understanding, you wished Daryl had a role model like that too.

_______________________________________

That evening you and Daryl walk into your home excited to see everything your dads laid out, the large kitchen island is covered in all sorts of pizza toppings and he’d already made up the dough, rolling it out into pizza shaped circles and placing them on the wooden platters ready for customising.

“Wow dad! You’ve outdone yourself! This looks amazing!” You express, “Glad you like it, I’ve alresdy started up the outdoor pizza oven, thought we could do the wood smoked type? Oh hey Daryl you good?” You dad asks “Yer, thanks I’m good” Daryl nods. “Good, so what do you kids think?” Your dad offers, “Yeah sounds good dad!” You affirm, dropping your bags and washing your hands ready to make pizza.

The evening was great fun, you all laughed so much, the kitchen ended up looking like a bomb had hit. But the pizza was amazing, and you all had a great time making the mess!

Later on sat in the car outside Daryl’s run down little home he sighed, “I really dun wanna go home” he admits, you turn your body to look at him, running your hand down his face and stroking his cheek, you bring his gaze to yours. “If anything happens, or you need me at all you just call me and I’ll be back here in a flash ok?” You stressed. God did you hate dropping him back off home to this place, your dad has offered your sofa several times and even the spare bedroom tonight, but Daryl always refused, scared it would cause more trouble with his father than if he just went home.

Looking up at you he nods “Yer I know” giving you a tight lipped smile he slowly exits the car. You watch him into the house waiting a minute to make sure you hear no yelling, before turning the car around and heading home yourself.

You lie awake for ages that night worrying, so this is what love feels like you think to yourself. Worry that claws itself into your gut, causing such an unsettling feeling you almost feel nauseous. You accepted a while ago now that you loved Daryl, you were still trying to distinguish though how you were going to deal with it, and what it all means. Eventually by 3am exhaustion seeps in and sleep takes over.

_______________________________________

Walking into class the next morning you frown to yourself noticing Daryl wasn’t sat in his usual spot, you walk over and take your seat in the chair next to his. Looking around you see Greg’s sympathetic gaze on yours, then noticing other peoples knowing stares your stomach sinks. You think back to that day you ran into him at the meadow, he had skipped school that day because his father had beaten him so bad he couldn’t face it.

Bile rose up your throat, all you can think bout is Daryl. You can’t pay attention to a single thing your teacher is saying, you can’t focus on your work or the diagram you’re meant to be studying. Your stomach is sinking further and further, your chest is constricting and your heart racing.

Placing your hand over your heart as you try to ground yourself, trying to breath through the panic and focus on the lesson that’s happening in front of you, but you just can’t. Sweat starts beading on your forehead as the panic keeps rising “Miss y/l/n are you alright?” Your teacher asks, concern written on his features, you must look rough if he’d noticed.

“No I'm not feeling so good, I think I should maybe go home” you answer, your voice coming out more strained than you intended. “Of course, you head on home I’ll let the office know” he replies, “Thank you sir” you nod, jumping up and gathering your things moving to exit the class quickly, but not before hearing one of the jocks shout out “It’s because her boyfriend isn’t here! And we all know what that means, his old mans beating him a new one” he laughs, your eyes fill with tears as you look at the teacher, he gives you a sympathetic gaze before urging you to go, “Detention for you Mr Owens, meet me at the end of class please” he asserts.

Racing out of the school building you jump into your car throwing your bag onto the passenger seat, your whole body shaking as you turn on the engine. Backing out of the parking lot and onto the main road. You bomb it towards Daryl's house, not even a thought in your head that you should probably let your dad know for not only your safety but Daryl's too. But all you can think of is how you need to get to him right now.

Pulling up outside his house you jump out of the car, bumping into someone. You flinch jumping back, looking up you take in the stranger recognising him from the shop, you realise it’s Merle, Daryl's older brother.

“Woah sweetheart, wats yer hurry” he drawls eyeing you up and down in the most uncomfortable way. “Where’s Daryl!” You demand, trying to keep your voice steady as your body betrays you, still shaking like a leaf.

A knowing smirk crosses his face and it causes your heart to palpate, “I see, n’ wat wud ya wan’ wit ma brother hmm?” He asks, “He wasn’t in school today, and I need to see him! And if you cared about your brother at all you’d tell me where he is...... right now!” You demand, your voice still stuttering but assertive, you don’t know where this new found strength and determination has come from.

Realisation seems to hit his features, “He weren’t in school?” He asks, “No he didn’t show up today, so I need to know where he is!” You answer, Merle sighs realising that means their old man had probably beaten him, he was drunk off his face when Merle arrived an hour ago, rambling and throwing things around the house. He was hoping Daryl had gone to school before the inevitable happened. “Well he ain’t home sweetheart” Merle states.

Looking at you again he could tell you clearly cared about his brother, watching worry cross your face, so he admitted to you that their dad was currently very drunk and angry, in his rage he’d probably lashed out at Daryl, who had probably run into the forest. “I dun know where he goes, when he runs out there, but maybe ya do?” Merle offers. Yeah you do, you know exactly where he goes, that secret meadow, the one only the two of you know about. Where you’d had your first real conversation, where you tended to his wounds that day after their egotistical father hurt him, and where you meet most weekends now, talking and drawing out shapes in the clouds.

You nod to Merle “I know where he is” before he can answer you jump back into the car, driving it up the back forest roads.

Pulling down a empty lane, you run out the car sprinting down the familiar tracks and through the trees, trying not to trip up over tree roots and stones as you hastily glide through the forest.

Coming to the familiar clearing you cross through into the meadow, letting out a huge breath in relief as you see him sitting there, surrounded by the flowers and reeds of green as he mindlessly picks at them. “Dar” you call jogging over to him, he doesn’t look up but doesn’t flinch at the sound of your voice either. You bring yourself over and sit down carefully next to him. “You weren’t in school, I was so worried I went to your’s but you weren’t there” “Wait!” He interrupts your worried yabbering, eyes jumping to yours in shock “Ya went to ma house? Wah wer ya thinkin! Ma dad he could hav hurt ya!” He shouts his voice full of concern, “Hey it’s fine Merle spoke to me outside, said you weren’t there. So I worked out where you were from there, and don’t worry I didn’t tell him about this place” you affirm.

He nods, looking at you still. You notice then the black and blue around his face, his eye is already turning purple, his cheeks are both bruised and there’s a large cut on one of them. His eyes are red and teary and he’s chewing his bottom lip, your face must have given you away because his hand finds yours “I’m alrigh’” he promises “jus culdn’ come ta school like this”. Your hand finds the part of his cheek that’s not bruised, you cup it gently, tears now filling your eyes. “You’re not ok Dar, you can’t keep going on like this” you reply, “It’s not as if I hav a choice!” He argues, “No one but you care, no one does anything to stop it, it’s as if the whole town thinks I deserve it, fuck maybe I do” he yells, tears now flowing down his cheeks again.

You shake your head no “No Daryl you don’t deserve this, not even a tiny bit. I can’t even comprehend how much you deserve Dar, because you deserve the world! There isn’t anyone better than you, gosh I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, see the way you shine. To me you're everything, so please just please don’t talk about yourself like that” you gush, desperate to make him see how special he really is. He stares at you in wonder, thinking what in the world he’s done in this world to deserve you, because truth be told you’re everything to him too. You are the first thing he thinks about in the morning and the last thought that crosses his mind at night, he knows your scent and touch by memory now, both being his biggest comforts.

Gazing at you he admits how he truly feels about you, blurting out “I love her y/n”. Then he panics what if you don’t feel the same way, he’d loose you, he can’t loose you now you’re all he’s got in this world. But your response silences his self deprecation,

“I love you too Daryl, I love you soo much” you admit.

He grabs you pullling you into his lap, his mouth frantically finding yours, it’s all teeth to start with but pretty quickly you find a gentle rhythm. Your mouths slotting together, while your hands hold desperately onto one another. You move you left hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, while he grips your waist tighter almost as if he’s scared you’ll drift away.

Your tongue swipes at his bottom lip seeking entrance, which he grants his tongue moving against yours, its clumsy and messy but its new, to you it’s perfect. You lock your legs behind his back, effectively pulling yourself closer to him, your chest smooshing up against his own. The action causes you to grind down against him, causing a stuttered moan to leave his lips. The sound ignites a tingling in your core and you moan back against his lips, grinding down again trying to coach that sound from him again. Your action rewards you and he moans again, his hands slide up your sides under your T-shirt, thumbs slowly tracing the underside of your breasts. He’s almost testing the waters to see if you’d ask him to stop, you don’t. You grab both his hands in your own and move them to grope your breasts fully, moaning when his thumbs stroke your nipples, causing them to harden under his touch.

You arch your back grinding against him again, shifting slightly to find a position where the friction rubs your clit just right, you let out a gasp when you find the right spot, before moving your hips more frantically, head falling onto his shoulder as you pant against him. “Fuck Dar you feel so good” you whimper, he whines and you feel his head nodding against your own. One of his hands falls from your breast to your hip, helping you grind against him harder, and both your moans pick up as you chase your releases.

Daryl’s whimpers grow more desperate and you can tell he’s close, you quicken your movements rolling your hips even harder as the familiar tightening in your core starts building, “Baby I’m gunna cum” you gasp, “Shit me too” Daryl groans, you rest your forehead against his before white hot pleasure consumes you, hips stuttering against his own as you both ride out your highs.

You let out a breathy laugh as you come down, nuzzling your face into his neck. “That was unexpected” you admit. “Yer” he replies, but you catch something in his tone looking up at him you frown “What’s wrong?” You ask gently, stroking your hand down the side of his face. Daryl swallows harshly before mumbling “Ya don’t regret it do ya? I didn’ mean for it ta go tha far, I got lost in it, lost in feeling ya against me”,

“Hey baby look at me” you coax letting his blue eyes meet yours “Daryl I could never regret you, never” you affirm, “Ok” he nods, “Does tha mean yah mine now?” He asks eyes hopeful “Daryl from the second I met you, I was yours” you admit, kissing him once more you feel him smile against your lips. Pulling away slightly he shyly mumbles “I’ve always been yours”.

After cleaning yourselves up the best you can you lay in the meadow, your head on his chest fingers interlocked together. Enjoying the peacefulness the forest gives, until you feel the incessant buzzing coming from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you notice it’s your dad. “Hey dad, I know I know I’m sorry but Daryl he needed me, we are at the meadow. Yeah he’s safe now, we both are, but dad he’s beat up pretty bad. He can’t go back there today” you express down the phone, Daryl’s watching you hum and nod along to the conversation, “Ok thanks dad, we will make our way home, see you soon” you hang up the phone and turn to Daryl “Wha’s happening?” He asks worry crossing his face, “You’re staying at ours tonight, in the spare room, we will take it from there” you convey, “Yer ok” he agrees.

Standing up you offer your hand to him, “Come on then, let’s get back to mine, we will sort something”. He nods at you, “I love yer” you smile at him lacing your fingers with his “I love you too”.

[topazy]

A different tomorrow

Tomorrow's promise au

Pairing: Shane Walsh x oc, Daryl Dixon x oc

Warnings: Swearing

Daryl’s pov 2.11

Sitting back on the porch floor, Daryl swings one leg over the other while carefully peeling the apple in his hand with his knife, making sure not to nip his skin in the process. Unlike Atlanta, the smell of decay wasn’t as strong at Greene’s farm; instead, his nostrils were filled with what he could only describe as a ‘spring’ smell.

“You gonna quit that?” Daryl asks, making no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.

Rick finally stops pacing and leans against the fencing. He grips onto it so tightly that his knuckles start to turn white. He was stressed, but when wasn’t he? Daryl was enjoying his solitude until Rick stormed out of the farm house, riled up. The former sheriff always seemed to be involved in some kind of shit, and after seeing Sophia come out of the barn, Daryl was done. He had put any faith he had into finding that little girl, only to find out she was dead all along. It changed something inside him.

Shaking his head, Daryl takes another slice of the apple between his teeth and stares out into the fields again, which were now covered by a golden glow as the sun started to set. He looks back over to Rick, who is resting his head in his hands. Daryl contemplates saying something, but the slamming of a car captures his attention.

“Lily, what's wrong?"

Lily storms up the steps onto the porch and roughly shoves her brother in the chest, saying, “You're an asshole.”

Hearing the aggression in her voice, Daryl tosses the fruit onto the ground and gets to his feet. He’s taken aback by the visible pain on her face; she looks broken. He scoffs at seeing Shane walking up towards the porch; whenever Lily was upset, Shane was never far behind.

“You promised me, you promised.” Seeing Lily shove Rick again, Daryl wraps one arm around her waist and lifts her back with ease. “Let go of me, Daryl!”

He didn’t care if she kicked and screamed; Daryl wasn’t letting go of Lily until he was sure she wouldn’t hurt herself further. “Go easy before you hurt yourself; you don't want to bust up your arm again.”

Her strength while trying to get out of his grasp surprised him; she was like a wild animal trying to get out of a trap. He was trying so hard not to care about either of the Grimes; he had already become too attached, but he couldn’t deny they were good people. Rick was always risking his life for others, and Lily… she just wanted to keep Jace safe. A mother who was happiest playing with her baby.

When he feels Lily calming in his arms, Daryl loosens his hold on her. She walks over to Rick, tears brimming in her eyes. “The one fucking thing I've ever asked of you, and you couldn't even do that.”

“Lil-”

Struggling to hold it together, she ignores her brother and goes into the house.

Daryl looks directly at Rick, “I've no idea what shitstorm is going on, but I'd let her cool down.”

“If you've got something you want to say, man, now is the time.” Shane snaps, sending him a death glare. “You think—”

“Whatever,” Daryl shrugs him off. “I ain’t got time for this soap opera bullshit.”

[twigg96]

Ride Em' Cowboy

Chapter 1: Being Family is a Promise

Pairing: Bull Rider! Daryl X Male! EMT! Reader

Era: Rodeo AU (A Walker Free AU)

Pronouns: He/Him/You

Warnings: Swearing, Merle Dixon, Merle being Merle, Peer Pressure, Bar Scene, Smoking, Blood, light violence, slow burn

Chapter Summery: Daryl is just trying to live his life. But he has obligations that can't be ignored. Obligations to the farm he works on to keep food on the table. Obligations to friends to keep a good repour in the town. Obligations to his last remaining family member to keep him safe from his own self destructive ass.

Cigarette smoke swirled and made the air thick in the little po-dunk bar Merle frequented every single night. Daryl as the younger brother used the excuse that he had to accompany Merle... not just for the free smokes and booze Merle's friends inevitably bestowed upon him seeing him without a beer already firmly in his hand, but... to make sure Merle make it home in one piece alive and well whether he liked it or not. His brother was a bad driver even while sober.

Saddling up to the bar Daryl nursed his fourth beer of the night. Some shitty lager or Lite beer he didn't know the name of that one of Merle's shady biker friends shoved in his hands. "When you ever gonna learn?" The owner of the bar hummed shaking her head. Soft brown eyes conflicted with starlight grey hair. Staring up at the woman through his tipsy haze Daryl clicked his tongue, pulling a pack of Pall Mall Reds out of his breast pocket patting them against the bar's counter top. "Learn wha'?" He slurred, his eyes falling to his hands, flicking open the carton top of his cigarettes. Pulling one out by it's orange filter by his teeth, he wasn't surprised when a clean glass slammed against the counter in front of him. Following pale skin up to her face Daryl stared blankly back at the woman. "Followin' the likes of him around is only gonna drag ya down, pookie." Carol hummed her eyes skating past Daryl's shoulder to a table where Merle was bent over whispering in some pretty little young blonde's ear.

"Dumb sum' bitch..." Daryl huffed, throwing his arm back in his seat. "Bastard jest don't know when ta fuckin' stop." He hissed shoving the carton back in his pocket. Fishing the lighter from another pocket he ignored the forlorn way the owner stared at him. "Maybe... jest remember it ain't always your job ta clean up his messes." She hummed. Turning his glare onto Carol he huffed. "Yeah... and if it ain't then who's fuckin' job is it then?" He growled throwing himself back in his seat.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette he let the smoke linger and burn in his throat and lungs. Turning his glare to the wall full of posters behind Carol, Daryl huffed. Though he could hardly focus long enough on any of them to read the finer print with details and other nesciences, he could read the big bold titles that were meant to catch the eye of any passer by.

Fishing Contest at the Docks!! Bring the kids!!

One said in various fonts and bright bold letters that screamed it was meant for middle aged men and their wives. Daryl huffed rolling his eyes glancing down the bar to his right eyeing a blonde number who was trying almost desperately through her drunken stupor to snap a clear photograph of the poster with her cellphone. He assumed just by looking at her she was a deadbeat single mother. The large fake ass gold hoop earrings. The botched boob job and second hand knockoff designer clothing... Desperate to reconnect with her teenage kids in this last ditch attempt to keep some relevance in their life before they all ran off in their own ways... it was derepressing just to think about.

MISSING DOG: BUSTER WILL PAY REWARD

This poster in particular caught Daryl's attention with the bold capital letters screaming at him. The photo of the dog under the words looked sad, its black eyes wide and tearful, ears back as it looked up at whoever took the picture. Daryl hoped that where ever it ended up the dog ended up safer and happier than it looked there... He also wondered as he lifted his beer to his lips, if Buster was the name of the dog or the man paying the reward for the dog... It wouldn't do much good to go out yelling for the name of your bank when you need a loan would it? So why would he go out screaming some random man's name when he wasn't positive it wasn't the dog's? To top it off, one run over of the poster showed there wasn't a phone number for this person... nor an address... so what? This Buster just wanted to brag that his dog was missing? Or maybe it was a dog family desperately looking for their missing Buster. Now Daryl was really fucking confused...

Finishing his beer in one go to help clear his head he sighed. The damned wall looked like the classified section of the damned newspaper.

Roommate Needed!

Ah yes... strangers in the home were always a fantastic idea. Fucking idiot was going to end up on 60 seconds...

Rodeo This Saturday!

Did Daryl look like a god damned clown? He only tolerated the ranch he worked at for the free food and reduced rent while living on property with Merle. He wasn't about to spend his free time around more animals than he had to.

Greene's Farm Half Price! Tomatoes Carrots Lettuce Peppers - Banana, Jalapeno, Ghost, and Bell Onions Whole Ducks Whole Chickens Eggs - Unsorted! by the dozen + More!

Now that... that Daryl could get behind. The Greene's Farm was a small family owned farm in town. They took care of their own. He appreciated that. Maybe he'd swing down later in the week to restock their fridge. It was looking a little bare.

Glass shattering against the wall Daryl was fixated on pulled him out of his thoughts. Whipping around he had to admit. He wasn't completely surprised to see the heavy set man with a bald head glaring daggers at his older brother. A large arm wrapped tightly around the tiny blonde Merle had just been flirting with. The man's handlebar mustache flared out with every breath he took. Dressed in clothing that was much too expensive for the likes of the hole in the wall bar Daryl cocked his brow wondering what a man like that was ever doing in a town like this in the first place.

"Listen here ya fuckin' no good shit stain." The man growled pointing directly at Merle's chest. "I don't ever wanna see ya near my Lou ever again ya hear! Or I'll paint yer fuckin' brains all over the god damned walls!" He hissed. A reasonable request if anyone asked Daryl. Didn't matter if she were his wife or his daughter... based off the age gap alone he surely hoped it was the latter.

"Now hold on and give me a minute." Merle mused, placing his hands down on the table splaying his fingers wide. A shit eating grin plastering his face. "I didn't even kiss her."

Oh fuck.

The man's face twisted from anger and confusion to rage. "You tryin' ta prove somethin' with that?! I don't give a damn if ya kissed her! Keep yer fuckin' mits off her!" The man screamed turning beat red.

Pushing off his seat Daryl moved to stand behind his brother. Whether it was to pull his ass out of danger or fight alongside him... he wasn't sure yet. But he knew his place and he knew it well.

Merle hummed his grin turning devilish with Daryl by his side. "Well... how about a friendly wager then?" He mused. Fucking asshole.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Merle's hand shot up to interrupt. "My best man against yers... this Saturday."

The fuck did he just say? Eyebrows shooting up way past his hairline Daryl could have cold cocked Merle in the back of the head had the situation been less perilous.

But the man straightened up. Seemingly taking the bet into consideration. At a glance he didn't seem like the type to gamble especially in fights... then again Daryl couldn't exactly judge in other's vices.

"Now hold on I don't even know yer name." The man said skeptically. Good on him.

But the eldest Dixon was cunning. He hadn't gotten out of five separate charges for grand larceny and fraud for nothing. Standing up straight he met the man's eyes. "You mean you ain't never heard of little old me?" He asked. "Name's Merle Dixon." A beat passed where Daryl was positive the man had soused Merle out. He would kick his ass and this charade would end. But instead... he nodded. "Jaxon Porter. You got a team in this weekend's rodeo?" Jaxon asked earnestly.

You've gotta be shi-

Daryl's thoughts were interrupted as Merle nodded reaching behind himself. Patting Daryl's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward the younger huffed staring hard and direct to the floor. "Sure do. Matter o' fact. Mah little brotha' is our cowboy in this year's roughstock events. Ain't that right Daryl?" Merle hummed turning a hard threatening glance his way.

Swallowing hard Daryl shuffled his feet. He hated this. He didn't exactly have plans. But he knew how fucking dangerous it all was. He fucked around cleaning enough of the bull's hooves back a the ranch to know how temperamental they were in a stall. On their back? With nothing but a rope? Never having been dehorned? Nah fuck that.

But Merle stared expectantly. The man in white expensive clothing with way too many rings on his hands was eyeing him up like a prized pig. He honestly doubted he even looked the part of a real cowboy.

But then Merle laughed rubbing his back in a way Daryl resented. "Don't worry bout him none. He's the quiet type." He mused to the rich prick. To his surprise the bastard nodded rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Makes sense. Most are." Are what?!

Shaking his head Jaxson looked down at... Lou who nodded excitedly back before meeting Merle's eyes with a gleeful expectant glint tainting her own that Daryl had seen over and over in every five dollar whore Merle brought home.

"Alright... deal. Your boy against mine. If he can out ride 'em you get ta see Lou again..." he sighed. Merle nodded smirking victoriously. "Until then-" He extended his hand toward the girl taking her hand in his raising it to his lips. But before he could even get close Jaxon's hand moved to his waist band where a pistol would be.

Stepping back Merle gripped the back of Daryl's shirt dragging him to the door with him. "AND... that's my queue baby! See you both Saturday!"

It was silent outside of the bar. Only the sound of the crickets singing and the cicadas screaming echoed through the parking lot as both Daryl and Merle stumbled to their cancer riddled truck. Struggling for domain of the driver's seat, Daryl pulled the keys from his pocket dangling them high for Merle to see. From the hard cracked leather seat he watched as Merle threw his usual temper tantrum. Bitching and complain through the glass of the truck he kicked a few rocks in the bar's parking lot before taking a piss beside the truck to mark his territory.

As Merle climbed into his side of the truck Daryl couldn't help himself... not that he wanted to anyhow. Cocking back he punched Merle square in the fucking nose just as the dick got the door closed so that the back of his head smaked off the glass window pane on his door. Watching for a moment as Merle groaned as held his face, blood flowing freely from between his fingers onto his lap, Daryl pulled a used MacWondles napkin out from the cupholder and shoved it in Merle's face.

"The fuck was tha' for?!" Merle growled with tears springing to the corners of his eyes holding the useless napkin up to his face that instantly turned to mush in his hands from the sheer amount of blood that soaked up in it. Pulling out of the lot Daryl stayed silent. Focused on the road and not swerving all over it both in his anger and drunken haze.

"Well?!" Merle hissed once more, winding the window down to toss the soaked paper out the window and pull his wifebeater off to use as a rag,

"Know damned well what ya did..." Daryl murmured. Staring like Daryl had just grown a second head Merle waved his free arm around exaggeratedly. "Obviously fuckin' not dip shit!" Merle screamed his voice sounding congested and nasally as he pinched his nose shut.

Pulling to a stop at the only stop sign in town Daryl turned and glared at Merle. His full attention on his brother he took in everything he desperately tried to find something redeeming in his brother... in that moment it was damned near impossible. It was a good thing he had been with him this long to know what his thick and thin looked like.

"You know I never rode a bull before." He murmured softly, his shoulders dropping and face falling.

Merle smirked a warm chuckle swelled from his chest. "Well hell baby brother." He hummed, relaxing in his seat. "Didn't have ta hit me just cause ya were scared... I'm sure learning ta ride a bull is jest as easy as riding a bike... you'll see. It'll be easy as pie. And trust me, there will be a hefty lump sum in for ya too if you win."

Daryl doubted that. He doubted that he'd ever make it out into the ring without being caught as a sham. Christ... who were they fooling?

Pulling away from the stop sign towards the trailer they both shared Daryl couldn't shake the nagging gnawing dread that ate into his stomach. But... Family came first. Right?

**Author's Note:

Hi guys!! This is the first Chapter fic I've ever posted to Tumblr made for Tumblr!! I would really really appreciate some feed back to know how I'm doing! I am so excited to share this WIP with you as it progresses!

Thank you all so much!!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

“I think of the dead all the time. And about the living, who I lost. I think about them all every day. Their faces, what I learned from them, how they made me who I am, so much more than all this made me who I am. All of our lives, they come in one life. We're together, pieces of a whole that just keep going for what we gave each other. One unstoppable life. You showed me that. You gave me that. We're the ones who live.”

―Rick's letter (Rest In Peace)

Belonging🕸R

He’s older, he’s dangerous and he’s all yours. Female reader, mafia AU

Her Poor Cat🖤R

Obviously the Alexandrians were pretty vanilla. Female reader

I Forgot To Say Goodbye🥀R

Arguments were not uncommon for you and your husband but they were always resolved by sunset. This time is different. Female reader

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness🦇🥀🕸S

With the death of the world, a new one must rise. Female reader

The Cowboy Hat Rule🕸R

If you wear a cowboy’s hat, you have to ride the cowboy. Female reader

The Step-Mother🥀🕸

The Dixons were an odd bunch, an asshole older brother, the quiet and noble middle child, and the youngest, a beautiful young woman with the heart of a lion. Rick can’t help but fall for her even in the middle of an apocalypse. Female reader, Rick’s POV

[lola-andheruniverse]

AU Thursday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Dear fellow carylers, today's AU is for the domestic bliss fans with a huge side of Merle 'I'm a damn mystery to me' Dixon. A love letter to the Dixon brothers and to Caryl altogether worthy of your reading.

If It Helps, written by sweettooth7, is posted on 9Lives and FF.net.

Summary: It had always been Daryl and Merle against the world, for as long as either of them could remember, and there was no way in hell Merle was letting that stop now. It was all just a big misunderstanding.

Rated: E Word count: 61.696 (17 chapters) Published: April 15, 2015 (complete)

As a fandom, we sometimes romanticize Merle's relationship with Daryl because we want Daryl to be loved and protected at all times. But, in all Merle's potential, there's a lot of degradation as well. And our author here did a great job of portraying it in all its complexity. Besides Merle, there's Carol and Daryl, being adorable, loving each other through thick and thin. This fic is written in a special way because our favorite couple starts out together and we slowly learn how they met and got together as the fic progresses. It's a different and refreshing kind of narrative, where the angst is not in their relationship per se but in them and Merle learning to be a family of three. The happy ending here is as lovely as it is realistic, and it will leave you rooting for every Dixon (spoiler alert: there's four of them in the end). Great, great fic, dear fellow carylers! I know you will all love it. Enjoy!

[dixons-sunshine]

Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.

Genre: Angst.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!

“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”

Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.

“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”

By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.

“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”

“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.

Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.

Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.

“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”

Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”

Just in case you didn't make it.

Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.

“Hershel!”

Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.

“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”

“S'a good sign, righ'?”

For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”

You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.

You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.