#twd one shots

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

[frost-queen]

Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [ read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.

Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.

“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”

Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.

Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.

“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.

Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.

You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.

“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.

You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.

“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.

Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.

“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.

Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.

Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.

Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.

At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.

Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.

Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.

After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.

Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.

He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.

You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.

Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.

--------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[riickgrimes]

What did they take from you? Carl. They took Carl. I lost him again. When I got taken, I fought and I fought. Not just by trying to get away, but by how I would dream. I'd meet up with Carl in my dreams. And that's how I survived in here. Kept me alive. Then one day, he was just gone. He just left.

...

If Carl were here right now, what would he say? What would he want you to do with this new chance to be with those you love?

[nerd4music]

THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E2: Gone

[laangdonn]

not anymore

summary: the aftermath of glenn and abraham leaves carl and y/n’s relationship in shambles.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: first carl grimes post yayy, i love him so much and in my mind he lives on.

*read part 2 here*

*************************

the house was quiet minus the occasional sniffle from carl and i. he was sat with his head in his hands on the leather sofa, his fingers lightly gripping his brown curls. i watched him carefully through blurry vision from behind the kitchen counter, supporting myself with my hands on the cold marble.

it was dark, the moon and a single saucer light in the kitchen shining as light.

it was so fucking quiet but my head had never been louder.

“so what are you saying?” i whispered, carefully watching my words.

he lifted his eyes for a moment until he brought his head back into his palms. he refused eye contact. “i don’t know what i’m saying.”

“you don’t love me anymore?” every word i spoke sent my stomach falling into my feet.

he didn’t answer. i didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

“jesus, carl, answer me-“

“i still love you,” he finally responded, his hand rubbing his face in stress. “of course i still love you.”

“then what’s wrong?” i pressed, a sudden urgency filling my veins. “why are we even having this conversation? why did you come home and suddenly act as if we’ve been fighting for weeks-“

“cause we have been, y/n!” his voice picked up now, throwing his hands in the air and standing up. he still hadn’t looked at me. “we have been fighting for weeks! we cant even look at each other without fighting! ever since glenn-“

“stop.” i cut him off, feeling my chest clench. “this wasn’t them, it wasn’t.”

but it was, and i knew it. the aftermath of glenn and abraham put a strain on the whole group, especially me and carl. we came home that morning, stumbling out of the RV and hadn’t been the same since. every time i looked at carl, all i saw were the tears streaming down his face and the reflection of glenn’s bloody skull in his eyes. i saw the black line drawn on carl’s left arm, and the axe raised in the air.

i looked at carl and i saw death.

i knew he felt the same.

“that day…” he started, taking a breath. “that day i had no other wish but to die. to keep you safe if that’s what it took. i couldn’t protect you from him and i don’t know if i can even try. i put you in danger by loving you.”

i shuddered a breath as the tears began to

clog my throat.

“that’s why i can’t love you, y/n. not anymore.”

“you act like that’s a choice you can make.” i choked out, a feeling of anger pushing forward. anger at the way he thought he could fool anyone who knew him.

“i can try.”

“BULLSHIT!” i snapped, slamming my hand against the cold counter and feeling it sting.

he buried his face in his hands and i could see his shoulders shaking. i felt my heart break then, knowing i wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

a sob broke its way through my throat, wet and rough, and i instantly regretted it because carl looked straight at my eyes and i felt myself sink deeper into the ground.

“don’t do this, carl…” i whispered, looking into his crystal blue eyes, a raging ocean encased in this beautiful human who i’d have to let go. i shook my head at him slowly.

“i’m going to get you killed,”

“then let me be killed knowing you loved me! isn’t that the best we can do?!”

“the best i can do is keep you alive.” he countered strongly. his voice was no longer broken or shaken, but determined.

i realized in that moment nothing could be done to change his mind, it had already been made up. carl was stubborn, too stubborn for his own good and he’d never be swayed by anyone, even me.

no words were spoken between us as we stared at the floor, drowning in the absence of each other. all i wanted in that moment was to touch him, to feel him under my skin and prove to me that he’s still real and he’s still here after everything that had happened. but he was taking that away from me and ripping my heart out along with it.

he inhaled a sharp breath, rubbing his hand on his face once more before he said, “it’d be best if you went to carol’s tonight.”

i swallowed harshly, nodding. at least he was right about one thing.

too tired to argue further, i walked past him and to the front door. he kept his head bowed, not looking at me. i could sense the tension as i barely grazed his shoulder, walking so fast i barely registered the soft material of his flannel on my skin. i paused in front of the door, gripping the handle and hoping he’d call out my name and beg me to stay.

but he didn’t. and i turned around to see his eyes were still trained on the floor, back turned. i felt the cold air envelop me and i slammed the door shut, reverberating and practically shaking the house. i sucked in a breath and pushed forward to the blue house a few doors down.

i knocked wearily, feeling my knees begin to wobble as the effects of what had just transpired hit me. suddenly i was a mess on the porch, breathing erratically as i tried to process what just happened. but, when i saw carols face when she opened the door, concerned at my state of being, i lost it.

she carried me into the house and let me sob my way through the story. she held me while i cried and laid me down once i had fallen asleep in her grasp, eyes crusted shut with tried tears, cheeks red, and lips swollen.

i dreamt that night of glenn.

———

in the morning i woke to the smell of toast and eggs. my stomach growled harshly and i realized i hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.

i gripped the banister on my way downstairs, being created with carol’s sympathetic smile. i sat down on the island counter as she pushed a plate of breakfast in front of me.

“i’m leaving for hilltop today.” i announced suddenly. her back was turned to me but i could sense the blank stare that must’ve washed over her. the sizzle of the pan of eggs on the stove top was the only sound heard for a moment.

then, she continued tussling the eggs in the pan, continuing on as if i hadn’t said anything. “it’s dangerous.”

“maggie needs me.” i answered simply.

“she’d feel much better if you stayed here. safe, with rick.”

i took a small bite of my toast, “she knows i can take care of myself. i should’ve gone with her and sasha right after…” i let my voice drift on, knowing i didn’t have to be specific. “i need to do this for her. for me. i cant stay here, carol, i can’t. not anymore.”

carol turned around at that, pouring her own eggs onto a plate. “well, i’m not going to stop you.” she said, taking a bite, “but i don’t think you should go alone.”

“i don’t need a babysitter,” i mumbled, beginning to lose my appetite. “im going by myself and that’s final.”

———

i opened the front door to the grimes’ home we shared cautiously. i anticipated to see carl in the front room with judith, as he always was, but to my surprise it was rick instead.

he was sat on the couch while judith babbled and played on the floor. his eyes were tired and lost, his face sunken with grief. he turned to look at me walking in and gave me the same, sympathetic smile i had gotten from carol.

i stood awkwardly in front of the door, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“he told you didn’t he.” i mumbled, not even being able to bring myself to say his name.

“no,” his voice was rough as he spoke, “i heard him last night crying in his room, after you’d left. and i knew.”

i felt my heart clench and my nose begin to sting. i nodded slowly, knowing i wouldn’t be able to choke out words i so desperately wanted to say.

“im going to hilltop today. only carol knows. i came to grab my stuff.”

his eyebrows furrowed at me and once i saw the disapproving look i spoke fast.

“i can make it there.” i promised, “we need each other.”

rick knew exactly who i was referring to and suddenly the look of disapproval vanished from his face. he nodded at me slowly, accepting the fact that this battle would be one he lost in trying to keep me here. he turned to judith and i took that as my cue to head upstairs.

“carl is at the armory, but he should be back soon,” i heard rick say, “i suggest you leave before he gets back, for both of your sakes.”

i didn’t answer, only continued up the steps. i didn’t want to see carl because i knew if he begged me to stay i would. it hurts knowing i perhaps don’t have that same control over him.

pushing open his door and revealing his room, our room was harder than i had imagined. i wanted to be out quickly, without hassle. i went through drawers, grabbing my things, stuffing them into the two duffel bags i had underneath our bed.

my heart dropped when i heard the front door open and close. i hadn’t been quick enough.

“where is she?” i heard his voice from downstairs and it motivated me to work quicker.

i managed to close the zipper on the second duffle bag but when i turned to the door i almost fainted. carl stood there with his arms hanging limp at his side, a blank stare on his face as he watched me pack my life away.

we stood facing each other for a long time. i stressed another fight, perhaps a bigger blowout than the last, but i looked into his sad, tired eyes and realized there wouldn’t be any fighting between us.

“how did you know i was here,” i mumbled.

“i went to carol’s looking for you. she told me you were leaving for hilltop.” his face scrunched up in disgust at his own words, as if just the thought of me leaving left a sour taste in his mouth.

“i am.” i said, voice feeble in an attempt to remain confident.

he shook his head slowly as tears began to rise up in his eyes. “don’t, y/n.”

“why not?” i pushed, crossing my arms over my chest. “why wouldn’t i leave? what’s left for me here?”

he didn’t answer.

“you let me go last night.” i stabilized my voice a bit, straightening my back to make myself look stronger as i spoke the words. “you can let me go again.”

“is that what this is?” he questioned, “is this reckless stupidity to punish me for last night?”

i scoffed, rolling his eyes at his narcissism. “no,” i chuckled in disbelief.

“then why? because this is the first time i’ve heard about this from you. not once have you said you’ve wanted to go to hilltop.”

“why wouldn’t i go?” i asked rhetorically, “maggie’s there and i want to help her. i feel so… so useless here! like, nothing is going right in this godforsaken place and last night was the last thing i needed to set me off.”

his face suddenly paled, his eyes softening. words were stuck on the edge of his tongue and i could see in his expression he contemplated letting them spill over. “i wanted to talk about last night.”

i turned around at that, beginning to rustle with my bag to occupy my hands. to do something other than hear him talk. especially about last night.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you, you have no idea how hard it was for me, letting you go like that.”

i scoffed again, “you don’t even have a clue how i feel, carl, so don’t even try to sympathize with me.”

“i-“

“save it.” i spat, anger beginning to rise up my veins at the idea that he was about to pity me. “nothing you can say, nothing you think you can do to make it okay won’t keep me from-“

a loud bang on the front door shook me from finishing my sentence, both our eyes widening as carl ran out of the room and to the stairs.

“anyone home?” a booming voice spoke. i knew that voice.

carl, eyes still wide, turned to me in shock. i stood frozen, my hand still clutching the strap of my duffel bag filled with things.

“aww, you are a cutie-pie aren’t you! where’s your mommy, huh?”

at that, my blood ran cold.

judith was downstairs, by herself, with him.

without another moment of hesitation, carl was booking it down the stairs. i closely followed; forgetting our fued and any other reason why i would be angry in the first place. judith came first.

when i got to the bottom of the stairs carl was already in a staring match with negan as he held judith in his burly arms. the sight almost made me vomit. if he was capable of all he did that night, what was stopping him from harming a baby?

“well would you look what we have here,” he smiled his wicked smile. “i remember you,” he said, pointing at me.

“give me the baby,” carl demanded, his eye narrow. i wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of his glare.

negan chuckled, “and why would i do that? she’s so precious, i don’t think i’ll ever let her go.”

i felt my eyes sting when he lifted her up higher, examining her small, angelic face with devil eyes.

“i’m not asking,” carl said confidently, his voice didn’t shake or tremble. surprisingly, he was calmer than me, and it was his sister. he kept his eyes trained on negan, never once allowing him to leave his hard gaze. “give her to me.”

negan looked between the two of us before letting out a large gasp, his eyes widening, “no fucking shit, pardon my french but, aren’t you two a little young…”

my cheeks flushed once i realized what he was implying. i slowly shook my head, staring at carl out of the corner of my eye. his eye narrowed further.

“that’s my sister.” he spat.

“this is rick’s baby girl?” negan bounced judith in his arms again, eliciting a small giggle from her. “wow! now it’s a grimes’ party!”

he eyed me up and down, “sweetheart,” he beckoned me to take the baby, and without question i stepped up, carefully taking her out of his grasp and into the safety of my arms. i let out a sigh of relief, smoothing her golden hair back.

i backed up to carl’s side again, keeping my arms strongly around judith’s small body. she twirled a strand of my brown hair around her stubby finger, giggling again.

ever so slightly, carl stepped in front of me, shielding judith and i from whatever this man could do.

“so, where’s rick?” negan asked as he began trodding around the room, picking up trinkets left in the house by the previous owners.

“not here,” carl answered stiffly. out of the corner of my eye, i saw his hand lightly graze over the top of his jeans. my heart pounded a little faster.

negan sighed disappointedly, “well, im gonna go look for him! in the meantime, a few of my men will be by here to collect half your shit for me to take! kapeesh?”

he walked over to me and patted judith’s back, getting sickenly close. i held my breath, attempting to shield my fear. “i’ll be back for you, sweetheart.”

a chill ran down my spine when judith giggled at the man’s words. it felt like i was holding that breath in all the way until the front door closed and i could breathe again.

suddenly, carl gripped my shoulders and forced me to face him. “take judith upstairs and stay there.”

boots crunching against gravel outside made my stomach drop, the sound getting closer as each second passed. i shook my head violently. “i’m not leaving you down here by yourself.”

“i’ll be fine, go upstairs. now!” he pushed me in the direction of the stairs, judith cooing. i suddenly felt the urge to tell him i loved him, to hold him and make sure he’s safe. i never wanted to leave his side.

i had barely made it up the stairs and out of sight by the time the men had opened the door and i heard carl already start with the spiteful comments. he’s gonna get himself killed.

i placed judith in her crib, cooing to her softly to make sure she was settled. i locked her door from the inside, stuffing the key in my back jean pocket and headed for the stairs. i peeked through the railings, watching carl argue with one of negan’s men while the other ransacked the kitchen.

“you said half!” carl growled, watching the men stuff cabinet after cabinet of food into a large bag.

“we’ll take as much as we want.” one of the men replied, his tone snark and condescending.

my eyes bulged when i saw carl turn around and raise his gun to the man in the kitchen. he cocked it, his finger edging the trigger. “put it back.”

at this, i ran downstairs to carl’s side, just in time for the man behind him to cock his gun, right at my head.

carl’s head turned, his face pale when he saw the cold metal pressed up against my head, and the man’s strong arm around my torso.

“put the gun down, kid.” the man with the gun to me demanded. carl didn’t budge.

“carl…” i whispered carefully, my heart thumping in my ears loud enough to the point where i could barely hear myself talk aloud. “put it down…”

he stood there for a moment, his hand holding the gun beginning to shake as his pupil turned into a devilish slit to the man threatening my life. after what felt like hours, he finally lowered the gun, and i let out a sigh of relief when the metal left my hair.

we watched in distraught as they picked apart every inch of our home. luckily, we were able to keep him from going upstairs, and they left without another word to either of us. as the front door slammed shut i was pulled harshly into carl’s arms, his whole body shaking in rage.

his grip was tight and constricting, as if the anger was flowing into the hug. i could barely get a breath out, and i felt him shakily let out a few of his own into my ear, his chin digging into the crevice between my neck and my shoulder.

i could feel his rage. it coursed through him like the blood in his veins. his brain pumped more thoughts of negan, his saviors, their wrath, and i felt him slip into his emotions.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice harsh, embrace still solid.

a tear dropped onto the warm skin of my shoulder, and by then i knew, everything he had said to me last night was nothing but a mistake.

i nodded against him, “i know.”

———

the rest of the day he didn’t let go of me, refused to. we laid in bed and i realized he was still thinking of this mornings’ events.

rick had come back an hour after the saviors left and panicked, asking about judith and if we were okay. he saw carl practically in tears from anger on the couch and me coddling his fragile ego.

he told us to stay in the house the rest of the day, and he’d be back to salvage whatever food he could find for dinner after our kitchen became nothing but a hollow, empty shell.

laying on carl’s chest, i drew patterns onto the grey of his shirt. we laid in silence, comfortable yet uncomfortable silence, until he broke it.

“today,” he started, his voice low, “when he had his gun up to your head, i realized something.”

i lifted my head slightly to look at him, his eye trained on the wall in front of us.

“you were about to die without me saying i love you today.” he sucked in a sharp breath, “and- and i realized i couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

he finally looked down to me, his eye glazed over, staring at my with a heartbreakingly beautiful gaze that told me everything i needed to know.

“carl-“

“if you still want to go to hilltop i wont stop you.” he continued, cutting me off, “but if they come there-“ his voice hitched, his chest tightening under me. “remember that even after what i said, i cant ever stop loving you, y/n.”

the tears that had been building in my eyes finally spilled over. i realized the extent of what we were all going through, what our reality is. that we don’t know if today is promised, more so than before we met the saviors. that humans are far more dangerous than any walker we’d ever come across.

we were all living on borrowed time, and at some point, we’d have to return it.

i buried my head in his warm chest and sobbed. sobbed for glenn, for abraham, for maggie, for judith, for me, for carl, for us together. i sobbed for what we’d never have again as far as it seemed.

safety.

“what are we gonna do,” the words tumbled out of my mouth deliriously, through snot and sobs.

he didn’t answer, but carl’s grip around me tightening, and the way his chest stuttered, answered for him when his throat had nothing to offer.

but then he spoke. low and menacing. he acquired a sort of vendetta he didn’t have the night prior. he wasn’t about to let me go for them. not anymore.

“we’re gonna make them pay.”

[smutinlove]

Carl Grimes x Reader Smut

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

I finished writing this so i said "why not?"

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

{}

You've known Carl since the prison. You were injured, and he brought you back to the prison.

But after the prison fell, you and Carl got separated. But when you and Carl managed to reunite at Terminus, he had tears in his eyes. But he claimed it was his allergies.

And now you were in a town called Alexandria. It seemed alright to you. But you sometimes wondered if the Alexandrians knew anything about the outside world.

If they did, they wouldn't be throwing parties for newcomers. Speaking of parties, you and Carl were invited to one. It was lovely. You were able to socialize with kids your age. But you mostly hung around Carl all night. But he didn't mind. He enjoyed your company.

However, there was one secret, one that you and Carl both shared. You two were dating in secret. You didn't want to tell Rick, as he'd probably give you a lecture on not having sex and avoiding making another Judith. It sometimes got hard to keep the secret. Especially when Carl just couldn't resist you.

You were saying something, but Carl wasn't exactly listening. Instead, he was staring at your lips. "Yo-yo," he muttered. You rolled your eyes. Carl started calling you "yo-yo" because you tripped over one and slid down a road. It was silly.

"Yeah?"

"Can we leave? It's getting late," he said. You smiled. It was getting late. So you nodded your head.

"So where are we going?" you asked with a grin.

"I was thinking my house?" He said. He looked at you. You had a mischievous smile on your face.

{}

Once you were in his room, you closed and locked the door. When you turned back to face him, he had already taken off his shirt.

"Carl..." you whispered. He came over to you and kissed your lips. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"You are so beautiful," You whispered.

You pulled off your shirt and bra. He bit his lip.

Then you took off your pants and underwear.

"Now you." You said. He nodded and undid his belt and pants and kicked them off.

He walked over to his bed and lay down. "I missed this." You said. "Me too." He grabbed your hips and slowly guided you down on his length. You moaned at the feeling. "Shit."

"You feel so good." Carl groaned. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. You sat up and began bouncing on him. His grip on your hips tightened. He let his head fall back.

"I've been thinking about this all day." Carl moaned. You placed your hands on his chest and continued bouncing on him. "I know. I was thinking about this too."

Carl groaned. You let your fingers graze his nipples. "Y/n..." Carl whimpered. "Are you close?" You asked.

He nodded his head. And you replied, "Me too."

"Y/n... shit!" Carl groaned as he came inside of you. "Carl," you whimpered as you came on him. You climbed off of him and lay down next to him. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead.

[thewalkingthread]

more of this fine ass man tomorrow hehe

[e-m-christina]

Daryl Dixon's Kinks Would Include (NSFW)

Guess who is posting after a century? Anyway I thought I would give the Daryl girlie's some content! Also who has watched the new show?

WARNINGS: 🔞

Date posted: 11/11/23

MASTERLIST

Bondage - that man is skilled with ropes and knots, so you can be assured he likes to incorporate that in his intimate life. He prefers seeing you all tied up, the way the rough ropes squeeze around your tender flesh drives him wild. Though he wouldn't be against being tied up himself if he trusted you enough.

Biting / Marking - Daryl loves to leave a mark. Seeing your neck and soft skin covered in red marks from where he sunk his teeth in made his heart pump. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, and since he isn't one much for talking, leaving marks for everyone to see was the perfect solution. (Though he does not like spanking/whipping/hitting becuase of his past and he does not want to unintentionally hurt you).

Submissive vs Dominant - He's a switch, no doubt about it. He loves to dominate you, and feel you squirm underneath him as he ravages your body. When he's like this all he wants to do is fuck the living lights out of you, and make you know that you are his. Yet sometimes, he likes to watch you take control, and feel himself be used by you - it really depended on his mood.

Quicky's - Don't get me wrong, he loves taking the time to make you feel good, and be intimate but often on busy days there isn't the time to do that. But he he always tries to fit in a quicky in between missions - he would go insane if he would have to wait so long in-between otherwise. He loves the frantic, fast pace of quicky's. The slapping of skin-on-skin would ring through his ears for hours after, making him crave more.

----

Hey guys, it was a short one today! But you can check out my other TWD work (finished + upcoming) on my MASTERLIST

Thanks for reading!

[feral4daryl]

ughhhhh daryl dixon in sleeveless shirts!!! it makes his big biceps look so fucking good 🥵🥵 he could punch me in the face and i would say thank you daddy

[lanadelnegan]

Video Games

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader

Song inspo: Video Games by Lana Del Rey

Summary: Negan's girlfriend, (y/n), distracts him while he's playing video games with his online buddies.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral (male-receiving), a short one-shot of blowing Negan while he's playing his game ;)

"Negan! Come eat!" I call for the second time.

"Take that, you sorry shits!" Negan yells back at his TV screen, ignoring me in the process. That ass, I know he can hear me.

I sigh with frustration. The only negative thing about dating that man is his video game addiction.

I stomp into his man cave with my hand on my hip and stare at him with annoyance. "Negan."

"Baby. Hold on, I'm about to win." He whispers while holding his hand over his headset.

"Who are you even playing with?"

"I dunno. Some teenagers." He shrugs.

He goes back to his game. "OH, you son of a bitch."

While he's staring intensely at his game, I'm staring intensely at him. The black tank top he's wearing allows me to admire how his arm muscles flex when he uses his skilled fingers to press buttons on the controller.

Do all men play video games in their boxers? Because this should be a sin. He looks so.. yummy.

I sigh, taking the hair tie off my wrist and tying my hair back.

If he won't pay attention to me, I'll make him.

I walk over to him and get on my knees in front of him, spreading his legs. He leans back a little and widens his eyes, finally looking at me. He puts his hand back over the headset. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Shhh, play your game." I grin and push on his stomach for him to lean back further. His jaw drops slightly open as he realizes what's about to happen, but he listens and leans back in his chair.

"Watch the screen Negan, not me." I pull his semi-hard cock out of the slit in his boxers, stroking it a couple times before it turns to steel in my hand. How can a man this handsome also have such a big cock? And how did I get so lucky?

Negan tries to focus on his game but stops to watch me lick him from the base to the tip. I watch him watch me and moan at how good he tastes.

"Fuck, baby." He groans.

"What the - bro, did you just moan?" A high-pitched male voice laughs from the other end of the headset.

"What? No." Negan snaps annoyed at him and glances at me again as I take him completely in my mouth. He bites his bottom lip in attempt to be quiet.

I take him as deep as I can and look up at him with lust-filled eyes to see his reaction. His head is leaned back and his mouth is slightly dropped open.

"Negan! Dude, you coming?" I hear a different voice this time.

"Almost... I mean, yeah. Right behind you."

I smile with his cock in my mouth and continue to suck him harder and faster.

"Fuck." He jerks the headset off and tosses it to the side after muting it. "My dirty fucking girl." He grips my ponytail and pushes my head down further, making my eyes water.

"You want my cum, baby?" His voice is deep and raspy and it makes me clench my legs together. I nod my head and try to focus on not gagging.

"Fuuuck, y/n." He lets out a string of the sexiest moans I've ever heard a man make before shooting his load in my mouth. It's so much that a little bit drips from the corner of my mouth as I attempt to swallow it all down.

"Goddamn, baby. Come here." I look up at him and leans down to me. He wipes the cum dripping from my mouth with his thumb and pushes it back into my mouth. "Good girl." He kisses me sweetly and I stand up, noticing his screen.

"You happy now, baby? You made me die." He teases, nodding to the the TV.

I shrug, walking away. "Maybe next time you'll come when I call you."

[gutsby]

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.

And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…

“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.

You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.

Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.

You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.

Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.

You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.

Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.

Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.

“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.

“I think Michonne would be pissed.”

You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.

“Still sensitive?” he smiled.

“Uh huh.”

You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.

Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.

You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?

Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.

You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:

“I know you faked it.”

Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.

“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.

But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.

“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”

Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.

You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.

The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.

Daryl swatted your hand away.

“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.

They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.

His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.

“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.

“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.

Hurriedly, you said under your breath,

“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”

“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.

You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.

Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.

That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.

Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.

You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.

“Real mature,” he muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.

“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”

That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.

“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”

You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.

Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.

“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”

“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”

“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.

“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.

Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.

You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.

“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.

“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.

“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”

You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.

“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.

“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”

“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.

Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.

“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”

“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.

“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.

At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.

Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.

“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”

“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”

“Most times? So ya did it other times?”

“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”

“Shut up, Eugene.”

You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.

“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.

He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.

“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.

“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.

Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.

“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”

That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.

He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.

The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.

Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.

Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.

Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.

Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.

Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.

“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.

Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.

This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.

Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.

“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.

“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.

Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.

“Quit bein’ difficult.”

“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.

“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.

You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.

“Pushy when?”

“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”

Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.

“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”

Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.

“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”

“So you lied.”

You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’

“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.

Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.

“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.

“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”

Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.

“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”

He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.

“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.

Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.

“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”

You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.

When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.

“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.

You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.

This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.

“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.

You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.

“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”

He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.

He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.

“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”

Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.

That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.

Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.

You whined. Louder than you meant to.

“Daryl!”

Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.

He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.

“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.

“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.

Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.

“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.

You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.

Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.

Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.

Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.

Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.

The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.

When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.

“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.

Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.

A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.

“DARYL!”

“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”

Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.

“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.

“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.

“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”

You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.

When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.

“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.

You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.

“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.

“O-kay.”

And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.

You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.

You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Dar—”

“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”

Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.

Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.

Fuck it.

“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.

That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.

“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”

He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.

Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.

He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:

“Who’s a good girl?”

Another sharp thrust in your cunt.

“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.

“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”

You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.

That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.

Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.

Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.

All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.

As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.

You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.

But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.

Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.

“EUGENE!”

[graceloveswolves]

Dating Daryl Dixon Would Include…

- knowing him for awhile before you started dating

- and nothing was official, you just one day became his and only his, which was accepted both ways

- everyone saw it coming a mile away before you two and they already assumed you guys were a thing

- gearing up for morning hunts before the sun rose

- being his hunting buddy ALWAYS he likes to be able to keep his eye on you

- you guys sneaking out together to just sit and enjoy nature when you had time

- everyone always assumed y’all were doing something else tho ;) sometimes you did

- he is extremely loyal to you, like 1000%

- everything was very open between you two, no secrets, you were each other’s best friend

- you two not minding being each other’s only company for days

- him taking it personally if he found out you were keeping something from him/not coming to him first about something

- him shooting walkers near you 24/7

- “I had that Daryl.”

- “mhm, I did too.”

- seriously, if you date him you can say goodbye to privacy he’s glued to you

- you guys have a lot of little talks about the group and occurring problems within the group

- usually seeing eye to eye on everything

- if you aren’t, he will usually just move on and accept it

- but you will still be doing things his way

- fun little competitions when you guys are bored

- him making sure you know EVERYTHING he knows about hunting/survival

- I’m not kidding he will drill it into you until you remember or until you beat him to it

- making sure you always have food whether it be tiny as a squirrel or a snake

- he will force you to eat if he notices your not

- you take it and eat anyways even if you are full because you are pretty sure it’s a coping mechanism from him never having any food at home

- he will give you lots of tiny gifts like a heart shaped rock or a four leaf clover

- at first, he might have a few outbursts out of insecurity, but overtime they dissolve entirely

- he is such a softie and wouldn’t ever belittle you or make you feel threatened

- but sometimes he gives you tough love and will tell you the truth even if you don’t want to hear it

- but will always be on your side and have your back against anyone

- speaking of, he would practically kill anyone who threatened you (Jody and the frying pan)

- Rick and Carol would have to pry him off whoever dared to try you

-overall he’s 10000/10 protective

- sometimes you guys fight about him wanting you to stay back on risky runs

- he looses most of the time and will just have to have the comfort of knowing at least he’s with you on the run

- you’re the only person he’ll take a shower for or let touch his hair

- he actually secretly loves it when you touch his hair

- especially when you brush it out of his face

- it’s a small gesture yet his heart melts every time you do it

- late night cuddles

- he loves it most when you lay on his chest

- or when you are hugging/holding him

- he sleeps the best when he’s with you

- when he’s out on a run and it’s a rare occasion that you’re not with him he practically runs off no sleep

- even after everything you guys been through he still managed to keep a Polaroid of you two from the farm when you both were chilling in his orange tent after being shot by Andrea

- he keeps it on him wherever he goes

- and when you’re away from him he will stare at it for awhile thinking about how different everything was then and the people that were still alive

- which makes him hug you extra long when he comes home

- you are his #1 priority

- Merle always being jealous of him that he snagged such a looker

- Rick always trying his best to keep you two together on missions

- “I know you two don’t like being separated but please brother, I need you on this.”

- Maggie or Carol being the one you go to if you are fighting with him

- Daryl really gets annoyed when you are mad at him

- because you are his best friend and he doesn’t socialize with anyone else really

- he will do a little routine that starts off with giving you space, then leaving little gifts around for you, then coming around with dinner or telling you he needs help with something, even if he makes something up just to associate with you

- sometimes he’ll cut the bs and just start apologizing and hope you can forgive him and just move on

- being able to talk to each other just using your eyes

- it’s a literal talent

- group members find it funny how you guys can read each other so well

- swapping old funny stories of your lives before the walkers

- people referring you two as each other’s wife & husband

- though Daryl never got you a ring, to him his love for you didn’t need to be shown through a ring

- but if you wanted one he’d see what he could find

- either way, it was obvious that you were his and he was yours so you never had problems with people trying to get with either one of you

- best couple ever

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,640 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Pre-apocalypse Warnings: Language, alcohol use by adults, references to drug use (no specifics), violence (no details) A/N: This is a special request for @winchestershiresauce <3 Summary: Based on watching your interactions, Daryl thinks you, a bartender at a local dive, may actually have a thing for his older brother Merle, but a series of events at the bar may begin to show him otherwise

“Get the fuck out! And if you come back, it isn’t going to be your drink hitting the fucking floor!” you yelled after the man who had burst through the exit and was now hurriedly stumbling his way across the parking lot and on to who knows where. You sighed and slung the bat up over your shoulder, catching the door with the palm of your hand as it swung back toward you. Behind you, the bar’s regulars were watching with amusement as you shook your head, clouds on your countenance. That guy had grabbed his last ass under your watch…

“I see we’re off to a helluva start tonight,” drawled a familiar voice to your left. “Need any help, darlin’?”

You looked up to see the Dixon brothers climbing off their bikes. Merle was the one who’d spoken. Daryl hardly ever said anything beyond his drink or food order and even now he seemed to be busy fiddling with something in his saddlebag, though you noticed him looking over his shoulder in the direction that man had just stumbled off.

“Merle Dixon,” you greeted him. “Are you going to behave tonight or do I need to keep my bat handy?” you joked, pinning a smile on your face as he wandered toward you.

“You know me, sweet thing,” Merle said. “You can’t get anythin’ as good as this without a heap of trouble mixed in.” He grinned widely at you.

“Alright,” you laughed. “You better come in and sit down. Would a beer at least bribe you off starting shit for a little while?”

“Might be a start. But I think you could find some better ways to keep me occupied. And it’d put you in the best damn mood of yer life,” he flirted. Merle was incorrigible. He held the door as you stepped back inside with a light laugh.

“Uh huh, I’m sure, Mr. Casanova.” He followed you up to the counter where you stowed your bat on a low shelf. Hopefully that would be the only time you needed to wield it for the rest of the evening…

Daryl was a few strides behind his brother but he too sunk down on a bar stool that had a small tear in the shiny green vinyl. He laced his fingers together on the bar top and cracked his knuckles. You always found it hard to get a read on him and his fiddling hands. Was it anxiety? Was he just one of those people constantly filled with the urgent need to move? You couldn’t tell. You gave him a smile and his bright blue eyes immediately dropped down to the countertop. That was typical too. The man was a smokescreen.

“What can I get you two? The usual?” you asked, already reaching for the glasses.

“Yeah, but gimme a burger and fries with that, would you, baby?” Merle said, flashing you what he clearly thought was his most charming smile.

“Same here,” Daryl drawled too, glancing up briefly. “Please.”

“Comin’ right up,” you said sweetly. You filled too large beers from the tap and put them down in front of the brothers and then went to drop the order ticket for the cook in the back.

One of the waitresses, a young brunette named Bobbi met you at the window looking a little harried. She slid an empty tray through and caught your eyes. “Thanks for throwing that guy out,” she said softly. She was the one he’d been harassing.

“Don’t even mention it. That guy was a scumbag. Are you okay?”

Her cheeks reddened a little but she nodded.

“If anybody gives you even a hint of trouble tonight, you come tell me straightaway, okay? Are you good to keep working? Do you need a break?” You were always protective of the waitresses, knowing well how quickly things could get out of hand with a bunch of drunk, testosterone-soaked idiots.

“No, no. I’m okay. Thanks. Thanks a lot, Y/N. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking out for all of us.”

She was still relatively new which made you feel even more protective of her, and you nodded. “We get a rough crowd in here, but there’s a line. That asshole crossed it.” You gave her another reassuring smile.

She noticed the Dixons up at the bar. “I see your admirer is back,” Bobbi said, nodding toward them.

You followed her gaze and laughed. “Oh, yeah. Merle Dixon. That’s his brother, Daryl, next to him.” You shook your head a little. “I’ll have my hands full in a couple hours once Merle’s good and boozed up. Just wait. I better get back.” You gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze as you slipped past her and slid behind the bar again. A few patrons were waiting for drinks and you hastily arranged glass pint glasses underneath the velvety stream of amber liquid and buzzing foam.

It wasn’t long before the Dixons’ food order was ready and you were setting warm plates down in front of them. The burgers were greasy and always overcooked, but the fries were surprisingly good. “Anything else I can get you boys?” you asked, grabbing Merle’s already empty glass and placing a few paper napkins on the counter.

Merle gave you a sly look. “I got a few things on my mind that I’d like from ya,” he said.

You reached across the counter and took one of his fries, dipping it casually into his ketchup and taking a few slow bites. “I’m sure,” you said cocking an eyebrow. You wiped your hands on a towel and straightened up. “But I meant from the menu,” you said, shooting him a look.

Daryl was watching the interaction surprisingly intently, his blue eyes darting between his older brother and you. Part of him wished for just a tiny bit of the bravado that Merle never had in short supply. There was something about you that always made his heart quicken—some combination of your take-no-shit attitude and the kindness you still seemed to possess that went right along with it. But he could rarely seem to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I can’t order off-menu? Why the hell am I here then?” Merle laughed.

“For the views,” you quipped, winking at him as you dried a glass. You moved down to the other end of the bar to assist another patron and Merle and Daryl’s eyes followed you.

Merle let out a low whistle. “She ain’t wrong about that, is she, little brother?” Merle said, thumping Daryl hard on the back before taking a huge bite of his burger. Daryl redirected his eyes away from you and back to his own plate, not saying anything. “Think it’s about time I followed up on all this talk with some action for that girl,” he laughed, dragging some fries through his ketchup.

“Be the first time you followed up on a damn thing,” Daryl snarked, unsure of what exactly came over him at that moment.

“What’d you say to me, boy?” Merle snapped, puffing out his chest. “Say it again!” he growled.

“Nothin’,” Daryl said, picking at his meal. “Forget it.”

“That’s what I thought,” Merle growled. “You ain’t even man enough to say more than two damn words to a woman. Sit here and talk shit to me…” He took another huge bite of his meal.

Daryl let it drop. It wasn’t worth it. Merle could flip a switch from silver-tongued schmoozer to rabid dog in an instant and everyone around would suffer, including you, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Business in the bar was steady well past the dinner hour. The Dixon brothers were still up at the counter. Daryl was only a few beers in but Merle had been putting them away. It was getting nearly time to cut him off from any more alcohol when things turned bad with the simple sound of the entrance door swinging open.

As usual, all the regulars looked at the new arrivals and before you even knew what happened Merle was on his feet and lunging at one of the men. He had his hands around the guy’s throat in an instant.

“Merle!” you yelled after him. Your voice was drowned out in what was immediately a full-on melee between the Dixon brothers, several other regulars, and the newcomers. “Shit,” you swore, reaching for your bat. You rushed around the counter and grabbed Bobbi by the shoulder. “Get the other girls and go into the kitchen!” you yelled over the brawling. You were still rushing toward the fight and she gave you a terrified glance. “And send that lazy ass cook out here! Go!”

Brandishing your bat, you started toward the fight with your heart pounding. You pulled the plug on the jukebox and the loud rock music stopped. You slammed your bat down on the nearest table top right about the time the cook, a skinny white guy named Mike, skidded to a stop beside you, gripping a length of metal pipe in his hand. He was staring slack-jawed at the mob of men throwing fists and shoving each other around.

The percussive noise of your bat making contact with the table startled the men fighting enough for you to yell over them and be heard. “Take it the fuck outside and off our goddamn property!” you roared, wielding your bat up on your shoulder. “I don’t give a shit if you want to kill each other, but you aren’t doing it here!” The color flared in your cheeks.

More jostling and raised voices again, but it spilled out into the parking lot and you heaved a small sigh of relief. A few of the regulars had fallen back, apparently thinking better of brawling and simply returning to their beers, but not without a good many welts on their knuckles and faces.

“Fucking morons,” you muttered under your breath.

When you returned to the bar counter, you were surprised to see that there was a generous stack of cash left for you on top of the Dixons’ bill. The wrinkled bills were far more than was needed to cover the food and beer. The tip was sizable, and you needed it.

You sighed and pushed a hand back through your hair as you fingered the stack of bills, your bat rolling a little back and forth on the dark oak counter. “Fucking Merle…” you muttered again, rolling your eyes. You put the correct amount into the register and tucked the rest into your waistband.

Mike was in the kitchen again cleaning up and the waitresses had filed back out once the coast was clear. It was nearing closing time and you began your final chores. Bobbi started wiping down the tables and putting up the stools and chairs as the patrons filed out, many on unsteady legs.

It wasn’t long after you’d rushed the brawl outside that you heard sirens distantly approaching. You rolled your eyes. Bobbi looked concerned and you drifted over to her, a rag in hand. “Don’t worry about it,” you said. “Not our problem.”

“What the hell happened?” she asked you. “I looked up and suddenly there was just a mob there by the door!”

You said goodbye to the last man out and locked the front door behind him. “If I had to guess I’d say it was a rival MC situation.”

“MC?”

“Motorcycle club,” you explained. You paused thoughtfully. “Or drugs. Could’ve been drug-related. You never know out here. These guys find the dumbest reasons to have beef with each other.” She looked concerned and it drew a dry laugh from you. “Rethinking your new gig?”

“Maybe a bit,” she admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ll be used to it in no time… Come on. Let’s walk out the back together. Time to go home.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why the hell ya always gotta pick a goddamn fight?” Daryl growled at Merle. He rubbed at a sore spot on the side of his jaw.

Merle was worse off than Daryl, sporting an eye that was already swelling shut and some split open knuckles, but he was feeling almost nothing with the amount of alcohol (and probably something else too) burning through his veins. He collapsed back on one of the beds in the shitty motel the Dixons were calling home for the week. “Ehh, that guy had it comin’. Sonofabitch owes me money and he’s gonna pay up,” he said carelessly, flinging an arm over his eyes. “‘N I don’t want that jackass in my territory, eyein’ up my girl.” Daryl knew his brother was talking about you and he rolled his eyes at his older brother for what felt like the tenth time that night.

“Yer girl?” Daryl scoffed. “Merle, ya only see her at night when she’s gettin’ paid to bring ya fuckin’ drinks. Yer girl…” he grumbled.

“Ah, you dun know a damn thing about it. Just wait… tomorrow…” he trailed off for a moment, “tomorrow ‘m done with all the talkin’…” Daryl stifled another snarky response. Best not to push his luck with his older brother, even as drunk as he was.

Daryl couldn’t understand what the hell you saw in Merle, but you did certainly seem to take his advances good-naturedly and perhaps even encouraged him. But it made no fuckin’ sense to Daryl; Merle was one of the regulars who caused the most trouble at the bar, and it always ended up sucking Daryl right in too. He felt some sense of responsibility to make sure Merle at least didn’t get killed… Blood was blood. Merle was the only family Daryl had left.

It was hardly 30 seconds after he flopped down that snores were emanating from his brother’s sprawled form. Daryl balled up one of Merle’s shirts that was laying in the middle of the dirty carpet and threw it at him. It landed over Merle’s face and the snores stopped briefly before resuming even more loudly.

“Fuck,” Daryl muttered, flopping down still fully-clothed on his bed, hugging the pillow. He had a feeling sleep would be hard to come by.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Your shift the next day started later in the evening and by the time you came in, the bar was already crowded. You knew within moments, too, that Merle was in rare form—already drunk and laying on the charm thick through slurred sentences.

Things were going fine until a few newcomers stepped in again, all of them wearing cuts that belonged to an MC you’d never seen before. Merle spun on his stool and glared. You could see his mind turning quickly even as soaked in liquor as it was.

“Hey—” you said, leaning over the counter and snapping your fingers in front of Merle’s face to break his scowl. “Eyes on me, tiger. You better not start shit in my bar two nights in a row or I’ll stop being so happy to see you coming around.” You hoped you could warn him off and prevent another night of chaos. There was probably a 50/50 chance of it working.

He grinned at you toothily. “Oh, that just ain’t possible, darlin’. We both know I’m yer favorite.”

“If you keep pickin’ fights and runnin’ off my customers you won’t be anymore,” you said, giving him a warning look.

He shot another glare over at the men in the corner booth but waved a hand and returned to his whiskey. “Ah, they ain’t worth my damn time anyhow.”

The man was unpredictable. Maybe he was just too drunk to be bothered. You breathed a sigh of relief and hazarded a glance at Daryl. You wondered if you needed to worry about him… As soon as you caught his eyes, which were strikingly blue, he stared back down into his beer. Hmm. Probably not? Now that you thought of it, Merle was always the one causing the violence… You couldn’t think of a single instance where Daryl had sparked a brawl. Sure, he went in after his older brother but so did the rest of the fucking bar. You couldn’t really blame him for that.

You straightened up. “You two alright? I’ll be back in a minute.” You grabbed the nearest server. “Watch the bar for me real quick?” They nodded and you hurried to the staff bathroom. You adjusted your clothes and checked your hair and makeup in the mirror before heading back out and down the hall toward the counter again.

And there was Merle standing at the end of the hallway, leaned up against the outdated wood paneling with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for you. He had a smug smile fixed on his face and you cocked your head slightly as you approached. “You waitin’ for little ol’ me?” you asked, flashing him a charming smile. “That drink empty already?” His tall frame was blocking most of the hall and you felt a bit of a nervous jitter in your stomach as you stopped in front of him. He was an intimidating figure.

“Actually, doll, I was waitin’ for little you,” Merle drawled. “I was thinkin’—how ‘bout I stick around after closin’ tonight and you and I can—get to know each other better…” A sly smile crept onto his face.

You tried to keep the smile fixed on yours. You were propositioned by some cocky drunk damn near every day, and sure, Merle flirted with you shamelessly, but this seemed more serious than a drunken pass. You tried to think fast about how to put him off. “I’ll be dead on my feet at closin’ time. You know ya’ll are a handful! Besides, is that really your best idea for a first date? Here? Where I work? Come on now, Merle. You need to be a little more creative than that,” you teased him. You still couldn’t get around him and back to the counter.

Daryl was watching everything from the bar top and he was soon on his feet, trying to figure out just what the hell Merle was doing blocking you in the hallway.

“Anywhere with me is a wild ride, sweetheart,” Merle replied with a wink.

Shit. He was not taking the hint. Damned liquid courage. “Well, you sure do know how to make a girl blush, even a hardened, cynical bartender like myself,” you said with a coquettish laugh. Your eyes raced to the narrow gap next to him. Could you just squeeze by? Right as you were wondering this, Daryl appeared over Merle’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he said, nudging Merle hard in the back of the shoulder. “The fuck are ya doin’? Let her by! My goddamn beer is empty,” he said, wiggling the empty bottle at his older brother.

Merle frowned, but straightened up and stepped aside. You brushed past Daryl, and as you did, you caught his eyes. There was something knowing and meaningful in that glance. He hadn’t interrupted because he needed another beer… In fact, you had no idea that Daryl had leaned over the bar and poured the rest of it down the drain before intervening.

You gulped and slipped back behind the bar as Daryl and Merle sank down on their preferred bar stools again. You slid another beer over to Daryl and caught his eyes when Merle was craning his neck to see who had just come in. “This one is on the house,” you murmured to him.

He only gave you a stiff nod and then went back to shredding the little cocktail napkin into a littering of paper snow in front of him.

Much later, it was nearly closing time and you’d stepped out back briefly to catch some fresh air. The night breeze felt heavenly after being in the suffocating din of drunken conversation and stifled by the tangy smell of beer all night.

The door next to you suddenly swung open and you straightened up from where you’d been leaning against the wall, surprised to see the younger Dixon brother stepping out. He fished a hand into his pocket for his lighter and quickly lit the cigarette dangling from between his lips. A puff of smoke drifted lazily upwards toward the velvety blackness.

You shifted, hugging your arms around yourself, a little uncomfortable being alone with him. He was, after all, a complete stranger and based on the behavior of his brother you didn’t really know what to think about him… There seemed to be a bubble in your throat and it was uncomfortable. You held off as long as you could before clearing it, knowing the noise would draw attention to you again.

Daryl gave you a sideways glance and you stared straight ahead, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and chewing on it a little anxiously.

He looked back down toward his boots and tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette. His free hand scratched absently at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. Then, he was glancing at you again. “Hey, uhh— ‘m sorry ‘bout Merle…”

You looked over at him and met his eyes, surprised. Oh. Maybe he wasn’t like his brother…

“He can be a real fuckin’ asshole sometimes, always startin’ fights and shit,” he drawled, glancing back out over the dim back parking lot. “And blockin’ yer way like that earlier,” he shook his head and his face contracted into a scowl. “He was way outta line.”

You nodded. “Thanks… by the way. For the save back there.”

Daryl nodded and gazed down at his boots again as they shuffled in the gravel. “He’s my brother but—” he sighed heavily, shaking his head again, “—I dunno…” he trailed off. “Sometimes I think maybe I’d be better off not hangin’ ‘round him at all.”

You watched him curiously as he took another drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the starry night sky again. “He certainly doesn’t seem to mind conflict,” you said.

“Yeah…” Daryl mused. The silence stretched between the two of you for a minute or so and then you both turned at the sound of approaching tires on gravel.

Great. You recognized the car immediately. It belonged to the owner of the bar, who also happened to be your manager. You had to stifle groaning out loud. Daryl’s eyes followed the red sport car as it did a loop in the parking lot and stopped abruptly beside the two of you near the back door. The passenger side window rolled down.

Daryl watched curiously as you stepped forward slightly. The guy behind the wheel rubbed him the wrong way immediately with how he spoke to you.

“The bar empty or somethin’? What the hell are you doin’ out here? And who the hell is this, yer boyfriend?” he demanded, looking between you and Daryl. Daryl felt his face flush involuntarily at the implication.

“I’m on my break. Bobbi’s watching the bar,” you said, struggling to keep the distaste out of your tone. “He’s a customer smoking a cigarette. What’s the problem?” you retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, sure he is…” the guy said dismissively. Your fists clenched involuntarily. “Listen, I need you to be here at nine tomorrow,” he said.

“Nine? I’m closing tonight and then you want me back here at nine in the morning? The bar doesn’t even open until two. And isn’t Mark supposed to open?”

“I said nine, didn’t I?” he snapped. “There’s a delivery coming in and I’ve got a full schedule tomorrow. I need you to be here to sign for it and then move the merchandise into the storage room. And don’t forget to restock up top. Jesus, you’d think I don’t pay you or something…”

You hastily tucked your hair behind your ear, a somewhat nervous habit. “Well, can’t Mark do it? I’m probably not going to be out of here until 3 am tonight with cleaning and then—”

“If I wanted Mark to do it, I’d ask Mark. I’m asking you!” he snapped.

You bit down on your cheek hard. “Fine. Fine… I’ll be here at nine.”

“Good,” the guy said gripping the steering wheel again. “Was that so hard?” His tone was plainly patronizing and Daryl felt his blood heating up just listening to him. The next moment his window was rolling up and he was speeding away with a spray of gravel that nearly hit you.

You stepped back, swearing a little under your breath, and turned back toward the door. “Full schedule?” you repeated, glancing over your shoulder and watching the taillights of the car disappear around the corner. “Dick…” you muttered.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, shifting. “What could he possibly have goin’ on? Hair plug appointment?” he drawled.

You laughed. You actually laughed. And Daryl’s heart jumped a little at the sound for some reason. Maybe it was the way your face and eyes lit up. “Safe bet. Well, I better get back,” you said, reaching for the door handle.

“Guy’s a douchebag,” Daryl said, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out beneath a boot.

You looked back at him over your shoulder. “Yeah. Lot of that going around this place at the moment. You’re a breath of fresh air,” you said, shooting him a small smile. “Night, Daryl.”

He simply nodded and watched you slip back inside, trying to ignore how that smile you’d shot him had felt like a shot of bourbon, warming him up from the inside, leaving a satisfying burn all the way to his core.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“The hell ya think yer goin’ this damn early?” Merle growled, apparently awoken by Daryl moving around the room.

Daryl pulled his jacket on and glanced over. “Dun worry ‘bout it,” he drawled.

“Hey—pick me up some damn breakfast on yer way back,” he murmured, rolling over again. “Make yerself fuckin’ useful for once.”

Daryl shook his head and headed for the door. “Dunno when I’ll be back. Get yer own damn breakfast. Hey—way to follow through with Y/N at the bar last night, too,” he said, unable to resist getting in a dig.

Merle sat up and squinted unhappily at him. “Ain’t my fault you fuckin’ interrupted!” Judging from the slur in Merle’s words, he was still half-drunk.

“Yeah, that was the problem. Me interruptin’. Not that she is so far outta yer league—” Daryl had to duck out the door and pull it closed behind him in a hurry. The sound of Merle’s cup splashing and clattering against the door punctuated his exit. He’d probably pay for that later but at the moment it felt worth it…

Across town, you were waiting for the delivery truck to arrive at the bar, sunglasses on and a giant coffee in one hand. You were exhausted. You’d barely managed any sleep by the time you’d gotten home and showered the smell of beer and cigarettes off yourself… You were just signing the clipboard for the delivery driver and eyeing the enormous pallet of product you were going to have to somehow muster the energy to haul inside when the drone of a motorcycle and a cloud of approaching dust caught your attention. “Thanks,” you said vaguely, handing the clipboard back to the driver, squinting into the much too bright sun to see who was pulling in on a motorcycle this time of day. To your surprise, it was Daryl Dixon.

He pulled up close to the building and climbed off, adjusting his leather jacket and ducking his head as he walked over. You eyed him with confusion and curiosity as he walked through the cloud of dust left by the huge delivery truck. “You’re a bit early. Like, 5 hours early,” you said, taking a long sip of your coffee. “Bar doesn’t open until two.”

Daryl watched the delivery truck drive away in a cloud of dust and then eyed the pallet stacked with boxes of beer and liquor bottles. “Ya think that’s why ‘m here? For a drink at nine in the mornin’?” he drawled.

You lifted your sunglasses and met his eyes. In the brightness of the morning sun they looked like tropical pools. You felt some stirring in the center of your chest. You didn’t think you’d ever really looked at him before… “I don’t know why you’re here,” you said truthfully.

Daryl shuffled his feet in the gravel. “Because your manager is a dick,” he said.

You laughed with some surprise and nodded. “True.”

Daryl glanced again at the pallet. “He really expects ya to move all this inside on yer own?” he asked, somewhat incredulous.

“I mean, we have a dolly but—yeah. He’s an ass.”

Daryl started to pull off his leather jacket, ready to help, and shook his head. “Those better be some damn good hair plugs he’s gettin’,” he drawled.

It drew another laugh from you and his heart jumped in his chest. “You showed up here just to help me with this?” you asked, disbelieving. “Why would you do that? You don’t work here. I don’t understand,” you mused aloud.

He ducked his head, shrugging and shuffling his boots in the gravel a little. “Ain’t got anythin’ better to do…” he drawled softly. “And it’ll get me away from Merle for a bit.” He hazarded a nervous glance back up at you. You were staring at him inquisitively.

At length, you shook your head, still in disbelief as to why he’d volunteer for such a shit job. “That makes no sense to me, but whatever you say,” you laughed. “Lemme just grab the dolly from inside,” you said. Daryl watched you disappear through the doorway and couldn’t help but notice the curve of your hips and the way they gently swayed when you walked. His body responded with what felt like an internal lightning bolt of electricity that was impossible to ignore. He gulped and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Uh oh.

In under an hour, you and Daryl were both around the bar counter inside with big glasses of ice water in front of you, thoroughly sweaty and rosy-cheeked. The task was thankfully completed.

“I wish there was some way for me to pay you for your help. It would have taken me probably three times as long on my own,” you said, looking across the bar-top at him. He shook his hair from his eyes and shrugged. God, your expression was soft. If you kept looking at him like that he didn’t know what would happen…

“S’nothin’,” he drawled, a little abashed suddenly.

“No. You were a huge help. I’m so grateful, Daryl.” Shit, he liked how it sounded when you said his name. He wished you’d say it with every damn sentence. Uh oh. Again. Was he seriously catching feelings? He hardly knew you… “I’m running on hardly any sleep and I was about ready to quit before I even started when you walked up,” you insisted.

Daryl simply took another deep drink from his glass.

“Hey—at least let me make you some breakfast,” you said earnestly, straightening up. “Nobody will notice if I pilfer a few ingredients from the kitchen and I do make a mean breakfast sandwich.”

Daryl was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything… He nodded. “Alrigh’. Sounds good,” he agreed.

In no time you had whipped up two egg sandwiches on sourdough with bacon and cheese along with home fries. You slid a warm plate across to Daryl and gave him a smile. “Bon appetit!”

He dug in unabashedly. “Mm,” he hummed, his mouth full of potatoes. “S’really good. Thanks.”

“It’s literally the least I could do,” you said. You smiled a little to yourself at the way he ate, eagerly and appreciatively. “So, are you and your brother from around here?”

Daryl wiped his mouth on his sleeve and took another big gulp of water. “From not too far,” he said.

You nodded and waited, expecting him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead of pressing him further, you decided to just enjoy the somewhat goofy sight of him enjoying the food. He finally seemed to realize you were watching him and his blue eyes glanced up. He cleared his throat and shifted on his stool. “Uhh, are ya from ‘round here?”

You laughed lightly. “It’s okay, Daryl. You don’t need to feel obligated to make small talk with me. I won’t be offended.”

“No, it ain’t that I—uhh… I just ain’t good at small talk,” he murmured, looked somewhat abashed. He had finished his food and hastily wiped at his mouth with the napkin, suddenly worried he was a mess.

You shrugged. “I think you’re doing fine,” you offered with a smile.

He let out a dry laugh and nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say,” he drawled. “So, what’s with yer manager anyway? Guy seems worthless. I dun think I’ve ever even seen him in here. Does he ever work?”

You rolled your eyes and sighing. “No… he doesn’t. And he basically is worthless. He owns the place but me, the other bartender Mark, and the kitchen staff pretty much take care of everything, but he gets all the nice profits. I think the last time I’ve even seen him inside the building was when the cops busted up a drug ring,” you said wryly.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. “I think I kinda remember that. Was about a year ago?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Was Merle implicated in that?” you laughed.

Daryl let out an amused scoff, more of a breath than anything. “Prob’ly shoulda been if he wasn’t. Who the fuck knows…” he trailed off. The silence suddenly felt thick between the two of you and Daryl found himself nervous. He cleared his throat a little anxiously and stood up. “Well… I should get goin’. Let ya get outta here at least a bit before ya gotta work later, righ’?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.

Daryl nodded. “Hope ya can get some rest before then. I bet the regular crowd in here is a real bitch to deal with on no sleep.”

“Since you helped me finish that stocking and stuff earlier than I would have on my own, I just might have time for some sleep before my shift. Thanks again,” you said, giving him a warm smile.

“No problem,” he murmured ducking his head. “Thanks for the breakfast. Was really fuckin’ good. Maybe ya should open up some place for brunch,” he joked.

You laughed, brimming with light, and Daryl was realizing that—oh shit—he definitely had some like feelings for you. Where the hell did this come from? And when did they start? Had it been this way all along? His heart skipped a beat at the sound of your laugh. His palms felt sweaty when your eyes met his. “Not a bad idea,” you said with a smile. You wiped off the bar absently. “Well, I’ll see you later, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Later,” he managed. He turned and walked out, and you found yourself watching his broad shoulders and the wings on his vest until you couldn’t see them anymore.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Where the hell ya been all day?” Merle growled when Daryl drifted back into the shitty motel room. “I been starvin’! Ya didn’t bring me some damn food? What good are ya? Huh?” He shoved Daryl lightly in the shoulder.

“I ain’t yer errand boy, Merle! Ya got a damn bike. Go get yer own fuckin’ food!” he argued.

“Ah, whatever… ‘Bout time I need a damn drink anyway. Where the hell were ya? Tell me ya scored some more cash. My stash is gettin’ low.”

“No,” Daryl said, pulling off his leather jacket. Merle swore not so under his breath.

“Well? What the fuck were ya doin’? Go somewhere just to jack off?” he asked with a hearty chuckle.

Daryl only glared at his brother and headed for the bathroom, followed by the sound of Merle’s laughter. “Fuck off,” he growled. He slammed the door and started the shower. Something about knowing he was going to see you again later that night put the idea in his head that he should get cleaned up…

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Another whiskey and coke for you,” you said, sliding the drink over to Merle, “and a beer for Daryl,” you added, giving the younger Dixon a wide smile that had him feeling slightly lightheaded. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“How ‘bout yer home address?” Merle slurred, “so’s I can stop by later tonight? I make house calls and ya won’t ever find a better medicine…”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Merle, the way those words are slurring, I have a hunch you won’t be doin’ anythin’ but passin’ out later,” you teased him. “I think I might have to cut you off after this one.”

He waved a hand at you and pounded half his drink, throwing his head back and nearly slopping some liquid down his front. “Dun worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart. I can handle my liquor.” This statement was punctuated by him slipping off his stool clumsily and nearly falling to the floor.

You watched, shaking your head, as he meandered over to a group of other bikers standing around the pool table. “Incorrigible, isn’t he?” you said to Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, a regretful look on his face, embarrassed on his brother’s behalf. “He shouldn’t talk to ya like that. ‘M sorry…” he drawled.

You waved it off, your cheeks coloring a little bit from Daryl’s obvious care and concern. He’s definitely different than his brother. “Compared to some of what I get, that was pretty tame.”

Daryl’s brow was still dark. “Hmm,” he hummed, chewing a little on his bottom lip.

You looked up as the door burst open with a bang and a familiar figure stepped in. Daryl followed your gaze and glanced over his shoulder to see a rather large man entering with a swagger that clearly showed he thought he had the run of the place. Daryl’s eyes shot back over to you as you swore under your breath.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You reached for your bat underneath the bar top and Daryl found himself on guard. “He’s not supposed to be in here. I’ve thrown him out too many times so I finally banned him. He’s bad news… He nearly killed someone last time with his bare hands.” Your brow was creased with anxiety.

Daryl could read the worry on your face as you made your way around the bar, bat in hand, and approached the towering man. The younger Dixon stood up, watching carefully, ready to step in if shit seemed like it was about to go the tiniest bit sideways. His eyes landed on Bobbi, the newest waitress. “Hey, go get the cook from the back,” he drawled. She nodded and rushed off to grab Mike. Daryl paced over slowly as you confronted the guy, telling him firmly he needed to leave, your bat perched up on your shoulder.

At first, Daryl thought he was going to refuse. Fists clenched, he was ready to step in and knock the guy out if he needed to—or at least try; the burly man probably had about a hundred pounds on Daryl. To his surprise, the big guy simply fixed a long stare on you and then smiled in a way that turned your stomach. You gulped.

“No problem, sweetheart. I’ll just come back when the time is right,” he said, winking at you. A shiver shot up your back as he turned right around and busted back out into the parking lot. The door slammed closed again with a loud snap.

Your posture was stiff and your expression uneasy. Daryl paced over to stand beside you and you finally glanced at him, though the furrow remained between your brows. You gulped again. “What the hell do you think that meant?” you asked in a low voice.

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “Dunno. But I dun like it. Can’t be anythin’ good.” He glanced back toward the door as if he expected the man to come busting back inside at any moment. “Ya really oughta have security here to keep ya safe,” he mused aloud.

You scoffed. “I’ve told the manager that I don’t even know how many times. He doesn’t give a shit as long as it’s not him being threatened. All he worries about is his damn profit.” You shook your head and headed back behind the bar, replacing your bat in its usual spot. Daryl drifted up to the counter again. He noticed that your eyes kept flicking over to the entrance, almost on their own.

“Hey,” he said softly. Your eyes snapped back to his face. “I’ll hang out tonight at close. Make sure ya get to yer car safely,” he said.

“Oh—Daryl, you don’t have to do that. There will be at least one other waitress here—”

“Dun take this the wrong way, but I dun think any of yer waitresses could take that guy,” he said dryly.

You nodded and let out a wry laugh. “Yeah… and you could?” you asked curiously. Sure, you’d seen him fight in the bar before, going in after Merle, but this guy was huge.

Daryl shrugged and ducked his head a bit shyly. “Dunno. Maybe if I borrow yer bat… but better me than you.”

That stunned you a little bit. Your lips parted slightly and you looked at him with curiosity again. First, he shows up to help you move all that inventory and now he was gonna wait around to make sure you were safe? Who was this Daryl Dixon? You felt as if you were continually seeing him in a new light. “You’d fight that guy for me?” you asked suddenly.

His blue eyes shot up to yours and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I ain’t sayin’ I could win…” he drawled.

This pulled a disbelieving laugh from you and you shook your head. “Daryl… I had no idea you were such a knight in shining armor. You might be a little out of place in here with the rest of these degenerates,” you joked.

He ducked his head, shaking it a little. “Nah… ain’t nothin’ like that. Just—ya know… that guy was a fuckin’ creep…”

You smiled at him fondly, leaning slightly forward on the bar top, and he felt a wash of heat spread over him from his chest outwards. “Any chance you can start coming in every night?” you said with a smile. And Daryl couldn’t decide if you really meant it or not, but he allowed himself to daydream that you did.

Daryl stood beside you, later that night, watching as the last waitress got into her car and pulled out of the lot. At some point during the evening, Merle must have wandered out of the bar. The best Daryl could hope was that he’d somehow find his drunken way back to the motel. For now, it was just you and Daryl. He took another drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the inky black sky.

You glanced over at him for a long moment and then reached up and took the cigarette dangling from between his fingers and tossed it down onto the asphalt. You ground your boot down on it, extinguishing the thin curls of smoke. He looked from the ground back up to your eyes, his brow furrowed. “You should quit those things. They’ll put you in an early grave,” you said, fiddling with your ring of keys.

He let out a noise that was part hum and part huff. “Maybe tha’s the point,” he drawled, his voice a little extra gravelly.

“Oh, come on. I’d miss your handsome face around here too much. Don’t do that to me.” You gave him a small smile that Daryl didn’t feel was forced… His stomach lurched nervously and he ducked his head, nodding. “You’re watching out for me, so consider this me watching out for you,” you said.

He hummed a non-committal noise. You smiled at him. His heart jumped.

“I’m gathering that you’re a man of few words,” you commented, cocking one eyebrow at him.

He shifted his weight a little anxiously. “Maybe ya shoulda asked Merle to stay instead,” he drawled. “He never seems to have a shortage of shit to say…”

You laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeeeeah… that’s definitely true,” you agreed, fiddling with your keys again.

Daryl was giving you a long, thoughtful look and you felt your cheeks flush a little under his gaze. He was handsome… Those blue eyes seemed like they could see right into you. “What?” you prompted him, smiling a little nervously with the way he was staring at you.

He mumbled something and shook his head, turning back to stare at his boots again. The only sound was the chirping of crickets in the long grass at the edge of the parking lot and the distant, somewhat haunting call of a whip-poor-will.

“No! Come on! What is it? I can tell you were thinking something!” you insisted

He shook his head. “I dunno… s’nothin’.”

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “It was obviously not nothing, Daryl.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, considering you again. “S’just… what’s up with you and Merle anyway?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him and let out a dry laugh. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ya kinda seem like ya encourage him, ya know, but then the other day—” Daryl ducked your gaze again, suddenly running out of courage. This shit wasn’t any of his business anyway. “Never mind. Forget it…”

You suddenly understood and nodded, smiling at him. “Daryl, I’m just doing my job,” you laughed. “And if flirting with Merle gets me a bigger tip, which it usually does, then I can pay my rent more easily. It has nothing to do with me actually wanting to date him.” Daryl’s eyes lifted and met yours again. You nodded as if to say ‘duh’. “Your brother is a routine pain in my ass, in fact,” you finished, cocking an eyebrow up.

There was a queer expression on Daryl’s face and he’d suddenly gone still, an abrupt change from his previous nervous shifting.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re judging me right now,” you said, already getting a little defensive.

“Huh? No! Nah, it ain’t that. It’s just—uhh, never mind,” he said, ducking his head again. “Nothin’.”

“No, tell me! Come on!” you insisted, moving around to stand in front of him.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably and lifted a hand to scratch at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. “S’just… Uhh—Merle dun tip. He’s a real cheap sonofabitch… If he thinks he can get away with not payin’ for somethin’, he will… Ain’t no way he’s leavin’ extra money behind…”

“What? What do you mean? But there’s always—” you stalled out as the realization hit you and you registered what Daryl was saying. Your hand went to the wad of cash in your back pocket, left on the bar that very night. “Oh. Oh, shit… There’s always a big tip, and you hardly ever said a word to me and Merle was always so flirtatious! I just assumed—Oh, shit! I’m sorry, Daryl. I—I didn’t know it was…”

He waved it off, shrugging. “I ain’t tippin’ ya for the recognition.”

You gulped, still feeling awful that you’d made such an incorrect assumption. All this time, it was Daryl leaving you the huge tips on the bar top with their bill. “Then why do you tip me so much?”

He shrugged. “Ya work hard in there and ya put up with a lot of bullshit doin’ it. I dunno—buncha loud, rowdy, drunken bikers and criminals. I mean, how many times have ya had yer ass grabbed?”

“This week or just tonight?” you joked dryly.

He shook his head, but you noted he didn’t look amused. “Exactly,” he drawled. “Ya deserve the big tips. Just dun ask me where I got the money…”

You nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Deal. And thanks. Thank you… I literally got my car fixed a couple times just with that tip money. It really does make a difference, make my life a little less stressful. So, thank you.”

“Dun mention it,” he said shyly, avoiding your gaze. “And for real, dun mention it to my brother because if he finds out there was more cash he coulda used for drugs and booze, I’ll be in some deep shit,” he said with a small laugh.

“Consider it just between you and me,” you smiled.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl parked his bike in his usual spot, the headlights illuminating Merle slumped back against the door, apparently asleep or otherwise passed out. Daryl rolled his eyes. Merle stirred and shielded his face from the bright headlights of Daryl’s bike and then stumbled clumsily to his feet as the engine shut off.

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” he spat at his younger brother. “Ya got any idea how long I been sittin’ out here waitin’ for yer dumb ass?”

“Waitin’? Where’s yer key, Merle?”

“Hell if I know! Somebody musta taken it off me!”

Daryl rolled his eyes and produced his own room key from his pocket. “Uh huh… somebody stole yer room key… ‘m sure.” Merle shoved him from behind as he was trying to fit the key into the lock. Daryl had to throw out a hand to stop from colliding with the door, and he spun to glare at his older brother. “Stop bein’ a dick!” he barked.

“Well, where the hell ya been anyway?” Merle asked him. “You been disappearin’ a lot this week! Dun tell me ya finally found some girl who’ll look at ya twice.”

Daryl was so sick of his brother’s bullshit that it just burst out of him. “I was with Y/N at the fuckin’ bar! Jesus, shut the fuck up, Merle!”

Merle froze momentarily and then scoffed. “She hardly spares you a glance, boy!” he said, laughing hard.

Daryl pushed into the room and Merle waltzed in behind him, kicking the door shut hard after he crossed the threshold. “You and Y/N? Oh, that’s funny, little brother,” he said smiling toothily.

“Ain’t a joke,” Daryl said, pulling his leather jacket off.

Merle stalled out, seemingly considering Daryl’s words more seriously. “Ya better be lyin’ for your sake,” he said slowly.

“Why?” Daryl snapped, sitting down on the edge of his bed and pulling off his boots. “She ain’t yours. She ain’t nobody’s but herself.”

Merle was suddenly standing over Daryl, his fists clenched. “Ya better be lyin’, boy…” Merle said again.

Daryl glanced up at him. Jealous. Merle was jealous and pissed. Daryl only stared up at him defiantly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

After a couple days off, you were back working an early shift on Tuesday. Business was always slow in the afternoon, but you weren’t complaining. It was nice to have a tame shift after so much turmoil and chaos the previous week. There was one old regular in a back booth, nursing a whiskey and keeping to himself. The jukebox was droning old cowboy country and you were content to sip ice water and flip through a magazine on the bar top.

You glanced up lazily at the creak of the hinges and were surprised to see none other than Daryl Dixon striding in with the sunshine at his back. Alone.

You straightened up, a curious and surprised expression on your face, the magazine already forgotten in front of you.

He gave you a boyish half-smile and wandered over to his usual spot, sinking down on the bar stool. You bit your bottom lip subconsciously and then smiled at him. “I’m a little surprised to see you in so early on a, uhh… Tuesday,” you said. “Not your usual time.”

He shrugged and glanced around. “Damn. Place is really slammed, huh?” he said dryly, one corner of his mouth twitching up. You laughed and grabbed a glass for him.

“Beer?” you offered.

“Sure,” he drawled, tapping a finger a little nervously on the bar top.

You filled his glass and slid it over, then gave him an expectant look.

“What?” he hummed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

You laughed again and shrugged. “Nothing, I guess… Just wondering why you decided to come in today. Alone.”

Daryl spun the glass in his hands, leaving a little series of condensation rings across a small area of the dark wood. He gulped. He couldn’t answer that question directly. He wasn’t brave enough to say ‘just to see you.’ “Merle was already back at the motel the other night when I got back,” he said.

You decided to let him get away with the seeming topic change. “Oh, good. I was afraid he was passed out in a ditch somewhere.”

“Nah, unfortunately not. And he’d lost his damn key so I had to hear about him waitin’ on me…”

“Ah. So, he wasn’t too happy then.”

Daryl shook his head. “No. And, uhh, he was even more pissed when I—when I told him I’d been with you.” His blue eyes shot up to study your face and he was pleased when you rolled your eyes… Over the last couple days, he’d slingshot-ed between convincing himself he wasn’t imagining some spark of chemistry with you and being absolutely sure he had it all completely wrong. Surely, you’d just been flirting with him the way you’d been flirting with Merle, right?

“I hope he wasn’t too much of an asshole to you,” you said, leaning forward on your forearms.

Daryl shrugged. “Only a little more than usual,” he drawled. He spun the glass in his hands and decided right at that moment, because of the way you were looking at him, to throw all caution into the wind. “When, uhh—when d’ya get off today?”

Your face slowly lit with a smile that nearly staggered Daryl off his stool. “Who wants to know?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes. “I do…”

“I’m off at six today,” you said, that smile still plastered on your face where you thought it might stay forever if what you thought was happening was actually happening.

“Any chance ya’d wanna, I dunno… go for a ride on my bike or somethin’?” He cleared his throat, nearly vibrating with nerves as he waited for your answer, holding his breath.

One of your eyebrows lifted. “Merle’s not coming, right?” you joked. Daryl let out a gravelly laugh.

“Nah. Promise.”

You grinned at him and then bit your bottom lip again. “Then count me in.”

Daryl ducked his head and stared down into his beer, fluttering excitement in his chest. “Alrigh’. Sounds good.”

“Daryl.”

He looked up at you again, a questioning expression on his handsome face.

You leaned forward onto the bar countertop and grabbed gentle hold of his lapel, giving it a tug until the two of you were mere inches apart. Daryl’s eyes flickered over your face, confusion and disbelief coloring them a darker blue. After a moment, you closed the gap and pressed the soft pillow of your lips to his. He seemed to melt beneath them and in a second was kissing you back.

He had a struck look still on his face when you pulled back. He gulped. “Why’d ya—” he couldn’t get the rest of the question out.

You shrugged, straightening up behind the bar again. “Thought we’d just get that out of the way. Now we can both relax,” you said with a soft smile.

Daryl gulped again and then managed a vague nod. “Is it six yet?” he asked, that sweet drawl of his like warm maple syrup.

You grinned back at him. “I wish.” The end of your shift couldn’t come fast enough.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

Can you do a Daryl fic where you fuck and then he says he’s not into labels :( and it makes u sad and comfort

I love this idea !!! lesss goo

A/N: Sorry if these are taking longer than you thought!! im putting myself all in between the breaks i manage to get from school lol. I liked this personally, not sure if i managed to put out a good "comfort" though but there you go anon!

Your eyes flickered at Daryl's scars covering his entire back alongside of his tattoos that looked very much like to having been done by an amateur. You had been wondering their story for a long time now, yet never had the courage to question him vulgarly.

You moved your legs restlessly under the thin sheets, feeling his seeds sticking to your thighs and dripping onto the bed.

He was never at ease with such things. From the very beginning of your "relationship" that is, just warming eachother's bed on these aggravating days of the apocalpyse, where former human beings becoming foes to the geniune humanity. Hence, you always had to wait for him to leave first. There'd be nights so lewd, so scarlet that he'd feel adequate enough to let his guard down now and then. He'd fall next to you on the bed. He'd try to maintain his heaving chest as he'd cover up his downer body with sheets and would just lie down, your bodies so close to eachother, so warm that you'd feel sheltered against his bare skin. And then, he'd bend down to grab his denim jeans and take out the pack of cigarattes you'd looted from a walker's jackets earlier.

At times, there'd be enough to last you a week but at other times there'd be so little amount that you would share one. He would pass a cigaratte to you that he had taken a long drag of. You'd draw the cigaratte to your lips, savoring the tip of the cigaratte he'd moistened with his lips.

But on this specific night, both of you were high on joints. These thoughts entangled your mind as your attention shifted on the flexing muscles on his back while he put on a t-shirt.

You spoke your mind, without giving it a second thought nor being aware of his upcoming run with Glenn and Rick tomorrow early in the morning.

"Why don't you sleep here?" You uttered low, tracing your knuckles across the downy sheet incase he'd turn to face you, you couldn't dare.

"Why, are ya need in company?" He grunted in a headlessness manner as if to drop a joke. You despised how he practically didn't pay any attention to it.

You felt blood rushing to your face. The humid already made it unendurable to stay under the sheet and now this. You took deep, instable breaths.

"No." Your voice was unexpectedly trembling slightly. You shook your head as you scoffed. Now, he was facing you.

"It's just..." You were already in remorse, wishing you hadn't even started this conversation in the first place. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cracked your knuckles out of apprehension.

You felt his piercing gaze sticking upon your forehead, yet you rejected to meet with his gaze until you found something to say that didn't make you look, perhaps, desperate.

"It just gets lonely in this side of the prison." You uttered, finally lifting your head to see him buckling his jeans. You had expressed this countless times in conversations with a different context. Rick had decided to put you in a cellblock away from the others when you first joined them and he didn't change his decision ever since.

"Gon' ask me ta snuggle, too?" He quipped, a subtle sly smirk played on the corner of his lips. He tapped on his pockets as he scanned the small cell for his belongings that he might've dropped.

A sense of indignity overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling overstimulated. You couldn't grumble. He wasn't a boyfriend that owed you courtesy after screwing your brains out. He wasn't someone like that after all. Nonetheless, you loathed at the thought of a huge difference between men and women. How insensitive they could be, how insensitive he could be.

You were very well aware of your relationship, you'd both made it clear to not turn this into anything it wasn't. However, you couldn't resist the longing yearning in your heart.

"Jerk." You simply said as you turned your back to him. You placed your hands under the pillow, resting your head on it. All those thoughts, yet "jerk" was the only thing you made it through your lips. You locked your eyes on the shabby wall, slowly breathing as all you were hearing was his movements behind you. He was so dazed that he couldn't comprehend you nor your course of actions.

"Got'a get sum' shit done in the mornin'." He spoke to himself as he was wearing his leather boots.

"Ya know, with Glenn n' Rick." He added followed by his grunts as he leaned forward to tie his bootlaces.

"The sun shines on this side of the prison, too. You know?" You uttered quietly. Your tone must've caugh his attention as he stopped tying his laces and leaned back on the chair bit by bit. He sighed as he rested his hands on his knees.

"What the hell 's dis all 'bout?" He spoke low with an irritated tone. He scowled at not getting an answer from you.

You wrapped your hands around you, staring at him with softly quaking brows. He stood there with a clenched jaw, eyeing you with squinted eyes.

"Now ya dun' talk?" He spat, chewing his bottom lip as he grabbed his jacket on the bedside table.

"Ya damn well kno' how ta kill a good night." He scoffed derisively, hearing a exasperated sigh from you.

He turned his head to you, giving you a spine-chilling glare.

"Don't ya?" His voice grew taller as you observed the vein throbbing on his neck.

"Keep it down." You exclaimed, shifting your position on the bed in a rush. The bed sank under the weight of your knees as you incompetently tried to cover yourself with the sheets.

His eyes flicked through your bare body for a brief moment as he forced himself to look you in the eyes. You felt subjected to his deviant gaze, a sense of shame flooding your every cell.

"Nah." He firmly uttered.

"Rick threw ya in dis cellblock for a reason." His tone above a whisper.

" 'Cuz ya stir up sum' drama."

"All the damn time."

"Dun' miss a chance, like clockwork."

He locked his eyes on yours. Dark shadows roaming his face. Your face got hot as you had to wait to process his words, what they could've meant.

"Those joints have caused you a mental block." You hissed, not understanding even a bit why he would've say something like that.

"Fuck off." You shrugged your shoulders as you threw your body on the bed, leering at the ceiling.

"It ain't tha'." He uttered, you could sense him leaning against the wall.

"Then what? All this because I asked you to sleep with me?" Your hands met over your chest, crossed. You could hear his shallow breaths, contemplating the best thing to say. You knew he'd fail. A moment passed as neither of you spoke. He took a deep breath

" 'S cuz ya wanna go for childish fantasies." He grunted.

"Like 's sum' kinda game." He spoke, one could sense the palpable thickness of weariness in his voice. It was like he had questioned it a thousand time before you even brought it up. His heavy words lingered in the air, unraveling all the things he never even told you. You could sense it.

"It isn't." You abruptly begged. You needed him to know that you understood his way of seeings things, his way of seeing you. You knew you shouldn't corner him. You didn't.

"Forget it." He huffed with exhaustion as he left the cell.

"Night." You mumbled, knowing he didn't even hear you. You didn't even bother to get up and grab your clothes lying on the floor as you were nothing but flabbergasted. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, hearing the cicadas singing outside of the prison.

A tear rolled down to your temple and your hand shifted to the side of your face reflexively. You sniffed your nose and shook your head in apace. You got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed fully naked. You sticked your eyes to the wall infront of you, fearsome of even uttering a word to yourself in this godforsaken cellblock.

You reached your hand to the panties he threw to the floor as all you could hear was muffled conversations from people on watch. You exhaled, the futile argument which broke out of nonsense didn't support your brain to not grow more lethargic thanks to the joints.

The world around you started to spin, leaving you out of kilter as you had to screw your eyes shut. You wore your bra and as you were done with clasping it, you drank what felt like a gallon of water.

You topped it with a dirty t-shirt and left your body uncovered to the humid of the south on your bed.

What did he think? That you were gonna be just fine with just fucking. How long before you started to feel things, that you wanted more.

You blamed yourself, too soon you thought. Maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know.

You woke up to the sun breaking through your eyelids. You fell asleep to overthinking hence the penetrating headache. You swallowed dryily as you tossed your body to the water bottle next to you and gulped it down agressively to a point where it dripped down your neck to the floor.

You spent your day within the fences of the prison casually, helping people run errands and talking about the run three of the solid men in your group went.

You were in the hall where you kept your food in, cleaning your pistol and weapons so that they're more handy. You furrowed due to your focus on the weapons when you heard a few sighs out of relief drawing near to the hall.

You lifted your head, awating to see who it was with your growing curiousity. Your face loosened at the sight of Daryl and lowered it to your weapons once again, exhaling subtly.

He put his crossbow and poncho on the table, fixating his eyes at you. You wrinkled your forehead, trying to ignore his existence but you were only growing to be distracted even more, with him standing there and observing you.

You suddenly lifted your gaze, exhaling exasperatedly with your hands sagging between your knees. Dirty rags and utensils accumulating a thick layer of dirt on your hands.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, sighing dramatically.

"...What?" You huffed, wishing nothing but to be left alone.

" 'M sorry." He muttered under his breath, making it impossible to be heard.

"You're what?" You let out a frustrated growl with his fancy words.

" 'Bout last night." He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, concealing every bit of an emotion peeking on the way.

"What about it?" You forced a downward smirk, trying to seem cool.

"C'mon." He simply said, looking rather bewildered with you. He looked as if he didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his body.

"Your fine." You huffed, focusing on the weapons.

"I's bein' a dick 's all." He begged, taking a step towards you.

"Yeah you were." You scoffed tauntingly, not looking at his direction. You observed his boots and exhausted steps drawing towards you as you maintained your focus on the dirty rag in your hand.

"Ya kno' I'ma set things right." He was so near you that you had to raise your head to look at him. You were sitting on the frontstep of smaller cellar in the hall, he looked down at you. Your eyes filled with a flamey look as he stayed put.

"Per usual." You forced a sham smile, wishing he'd sense the sarcasm in your tone.

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the way, you instantly got up as you rolled your eyes. You leered at him.

"Will you please get out of my way?" You hissed, maintaining a stern eye contact like a rock.

He remained silent without blinking.

"Dun' do dis." He mumbled.

You felt heat rising to your head, slowly gritting your teeth.

"So now it's my fault?" You barked between your heaving chest. You digged your nails into your palm, your face getting redder each second.

He remained silent once again as he placed his burly left hand to your waist, burying his forehead on your shoulder. As you were at the brink of pushing his body, hands softly grabbing him by the shoulders.

"A herd nearly took us out today." He breathed against your skin.

Your hand fell loose down his body as your eyes widened and you let out a soft sigh. His hair tickled under your chin as you felt him breathing shallowly against your skin. Your eyes fixated on the entrance gate as you didn't know what to say or do.

You felt your eyes twitching along with your bottom lip as his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, your body flooding with goosebumps.

"Almost got Rick." He added after a few second that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry. I- I-" You made it out through a shaky voice as he lifted his head, his hand still gripping your waist.

"Ain't yer fault." He slowly ambled toward the table where he left his crossbow on.

"Jus' made me get mah head al' together." He spoke as if there was no one in the hall. He slunged his crossbow on his body and rubbed his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"There ain't no reason ta be a damn douchebag." He added, eyeballing you as he placed his hands on his hips.

You were left with thousands of feelings, thoughts lining in your head leaving you stay put like a statue with no form of life whatsoever. Your brows were raised, lip bottom still trembling yet you managed a hold on it. He threw his poncho on his shoulder as he got close to the hall gate.

"Come to my cell tonight." You insisted with soulful, intense eyes right before he left.

You saw him nodding his head discreetly as he chewed on his bottom lip.

[laangdonn]

not anymore pt2

summary: y/n tries growing in her grief at hilltop.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: ya’llllllll thank you so much for loving the first part!!! i’d actually written pt1 a year ago and never rlly planned to ever make a pt2 but ask and you shall receive lolol, hope you like!!

*read part 1 here*

*************************

“todays the day rick n carl should be gettin here,” maggie said, sending a spoon with tomato soup into her mouth, “you ready to see him?”

i released a shaky breath, playing with my own bowl of food as my starved appetite vanished. i stared at the red, swirling liquid. “i don’t know.”

“a month wasn’t enough time apart?” she asked, eyeing me cautiously.

i hadn’t wanted to repeat myself, but i had no other answer. “i- i don’t know.”

it hadnt seemed like a month apart. i would’ve sworn it had been yesterday i walked out of alexandria alone, two duffel bags in my hand and a gun, ready to fend off anything or anyone that crossed my path.

but it had been a month, the longest we’d ever been apart. and i missed him more than anything.

it still didn’t shake my hesitancy, my worry that the moment we spend time alone we’ll go back to disagreements and fighting and perhaps, i’d never go back to alexandria again. and that’ll be the end of us. till one of dies and the other is forced to reconcile the fact that we’d never made up.

it scared me to see him. to see death again.

“well,” maggie swallowed again, her short hair bristling in the chilly air from the open window, “i think when you see him, that’s when you’ll really know.”

i nodded slowly, my eyes still trained on my soup.

she stood up out of the chair, “i need to find greg, talk to him ‘bout a few things.” she eyed me again, noticing my static, unmoving position. “you’ll be alright while i’m gone?”

i looked up at her then, not wanting her to worry, “i’ll be fine, mags.”

she gave me a small, reassuring smile and a kiss on the crown of my head before she went off, and i was left in my thoughts.

luckily, maggie’s trailer provided a lot of privacy, and knowing the tenants at hilltop, i wouldn’t be disturbed.

i stared off to a chip in the paint, thinking.

——

“i can come with you.”

“carl-“

“why can’t i just take you to hilltop and leave?”

“because, carl, don’t-“

“it’s dangerous, y/n, and reckless-“

“carl-“

“and stupid-“

“would you stop interrupting me!”

he went quiet then, his burly arms crossed over his flannel chest, eye staring daggers into my figure.

we stood by the door to our house, two duffel bags leaning against the wall i so desperately wanted to pick up and run out.

i knew despite him saying he wouldn’t stop me going, it wouldn’t eliminate the imminent last ditch effort fight from occurring.

“you told me you’d let me go.” i said slowly, as if reprimanding a child, “don’t go back on your word.”

he rolled his eyes, “god forbid i don’t want you out there by yourself! have my dad take you for fucks sake just don’t-“ he pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling stressfully, “don’t go by yourself.”

“i can take care of myself, carl.” i spat, feeling anger surge through me at his distrust in me. “i’ve survived this long.”

“you never know what can happen out there.” he threw his hands up, “or here! yesterday, that dick’s gun was to your head in this fucking room!”

i felt his rage, i voiced his yells. it made my head spiral that i were still trapped in alexandria, suffocating in this broken reflection of my relationship that could barely withstand some independence.

but, bringing myself to reality, i also knew his fear, knew the dread at the unknown. knew the loss he was experiencing even while i was still standing in front of him, alive and breathing.

i shuddered out a breath, walking over to him to put my hands sturdily on his shoulders.

i looked up at him, watching his anger dissipate when we locked eyes.

“i know you’re scared for me,” i said softly, talking quickly before he’d have a chance, “but i need you to trust me.”

“y/n-“

“no,” i put my finger to his soft lips, “let me finish.”

i brought my hand down, his eye watching my finger fall from his flesh.

“i’ll send a letter the second i get to hilltop, so you know i’m safe,” i swallowed, “i’ll have my gun loaded and extra ammo, anything i could scavenge up from the armory.”

his eyebrow relaxed, listening to me talk.

“this is what we’re made for now,” i shook him a bit and sent him a weary smile to ease his tension, “we’re made to do these things on our own.”

he exhaled shakily, nodding to fool himself into thinking he’d allow this, that he’d watch me walk away from him into trees of undead and alive.

i leaned up to his face, our noses brushing every so slightly. my heart boomed in my chest, beating so hard i swore he could hear it himself. maybe it was both of our hearts, desperate to intertwine again.

“do you trust me?” i whispered softly, so our lips grazed.

i heard him swallow, and the breath from his nose fan my face.

“yeah,”

i pulled back at that, knowing if we kissed, for the first time since…, i knew i’d lose the battle to my heart and stay.

i grabbed the two duffel bags and locked my palm around the doorknob.

looking over my shoulder, i sent a reassuring smile, “i’ll see you when we’re okay.”

he didn’t respond, and while it sent a jolt to my gut of disappointment and guilt, i turned back and opened the door.

“y/n,” i heard him say, just as i left.

i barely looked over my shoulder.

“i love you.”

i bit my lip, finally, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“i love you, too.”

and the door shut.

——

crossing the lines to hilltop and realizing who i’d be seeing almost sent me running the other direction.

fear of maggie’s state of being gave me a headache as i drew closer to the entrance, and once i was close enough in view, could see her faint outline on a lookout post illuminated by the bright sun behind her.

i knew she saw me when i heard a voice scream my name.

she disappeared from the post and soon the large, wooden doors opened. i ran the rest of the way, dropping my bags and falling tiredly into her expectant arms.

as much as i told myself i’d stay strong for her, the smell of her hair and the memories of that night came sweeping back and i sobbed, wet and noisily, into her chest that shook with her own cries.

i didn’t realize we’d fallen to the floor till i felt my exposed knees sting from skimming the rough dirt.

“what-“ she sniffled, a sob breaking through her, “what are you doing here?”

i took a shaky breath in, trying to compose myself, “i came to see you.”

she frowned, burying her face back into my shoulder.

we cried a few more moments, let ourselves drown in glenn’s absence, in front of all the onlookers who just watched silently.

i pulled back, dread creeping into my stomach when i looked at maggie’s

“the-“ i swallowed, “the baby-“

“fine,” she answered quickly, stroking tears off my cheeks and sending me a faint smile, “just fine.”

i breathed a sigh of relief, nodding at the scarce good news before standing and helping her up, too.

she looked healthier than the last time i saw her, fatter in her face and her arms. her stomach barely bulged as a reminder a part of glenn resided there.

behind her i saw sasha standing, her arms folded. even from far away, i could tell she just looked even worse, instead of better.

i sent her my best sympathetic smile, receiving one back but knowing deep down, it was just another lie to comfort me.

i looked to maggie, gripping her forearms, “take me to him.”

seeing glenn’s grave, surprisingly, comforted me more than disturbed me. to know we had him, safe under dirt and bugs, but still, safe. better than laying out in the gravel, for prying, evil eyes to view him.

he was returned back to us in less than one piece, but his soul was whole with us.

i held maggie’s hand as we looked down, a few flowers resting over the raised patch of dirt.

i swallowed harshly, “what would he think now?”

“of what?” she asked softly, our eyes never wavering from the ground.

“of carl and i. of what’s been destroyed.”

i felt her squeeze my hand, “you and carl aren’t destroyed.”

i shook my head, feeling tears blur my vision and my nose sting.

she continued, “you’re right for the time apart, to grieve separately if that’s what you need.”

“is it enough?” i asked brokenly, finally looking at her.

she gestured our intertwined hands to glenn’s grave.

“ask him.”

and so i did.

i spoke to glenn’s grave everyday. sometimes scattered stories of our memories, from the prison, from on the road. sometimes i cried so hard i couldn’t breathe under the empty dusk, sometimes i laughed so hard my stomach hurt. sometimes i sat in silence.

but mostly i talked about carl.

——

if i stared hard enough at that paint chip, i could’ve sworn the wall tore a bit more right before my eyes.

i knew who i had to see, to remind me this absence was for something, that i’d grown in my grief.

my feet carried me to his grave, hidden away behind maggie’s trailer. i sat down comfortably in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest.

“are we okay?” i whispered to the air. “will i see you in him?”

“was all of this for nothing? will it always be this way, glenn?” i wiped my hand over my nose.

i let out a shaky breath at the thought, “can we overcome this?”

“yes.”

my head whipped around, and i saw carl, standing with his arms at his sides, tears filling up his ocean eye.

it gave me whiplash how fast i stood up and launched myself into his unexpecting arms. they rested limp for a moment, but quickly moved to hug my torso tightly, lifting my feet slightly off the grass as i wedged my head between his neck.

we pulled back slightly to stare at each other, and i searched his face for the blood, for the black line, for the axe.

i smiled softly when i realized all i saw were glenn’s memories.

happy memories, of the hot days at the prison when we sweat so hard playing tag, of playing a dusty board game in alexandria the first night when we were too hesitant to sleep, of watching his love with maggie and seeing it reflected in carl and i.

“why’re you smiling?” he whispered, his own face pulling to reveal a grin. he knew.

i leaned in closer, tipping his sheriffs hat up so our noses could brush.

“because i don’t see it, not anymore.” i finally let our lips touch, a kiss that sent flames bursting in my stomach and my fingers to shake with anticipation.

he leaned into the kiss, and i felt the breath on my face at his sigh of relief.

i knew he knew what i meant when i saw the tiny twinkle in his eyes reappear looking at me, knowing he felt the same.

i pulled back ever too quickly, evident in how he leaned in again.

but before i gave him the chance to kiss me again, i let my smile burst through.

we all had a long way to go, people to kill and more people to lose, but in this moment, right in this moment:

“i see you now.” i said.

and that was enough.

[ghostboneswrites2]

My Reading List ~

This is a masterlist of some of my favorite works by other writers on tumblr! Features, one shots, drabbles, headcanons, etc. Anything reader x daryl that I enjoyed a lot. Will constantly update as I find more.

To the authors whose work is linked here: I wasn't sure if I should tag you or if that would be rude or annoying plz lmk if tagging is not preferred and I will remove your tag and leave it as just the link!

2 Batteries Away (mildly angsty smut) - by @pirateprincessblog

Wha's up there? (funny little convo) - by @celtic-crossbow

She's alrigh' (another funny little convo. This author is great with these) - by @celtic-crossbow

Can you flip me on my back? (smutty drabble that made me die) - by @dixonzzgirl

Dog headcannons (omg?? this was geniusly adorable????) - by @dixonzzgirl

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness (smutty one shot) - by @scudslut

Long Before (long, smutty, beautifully written reader!greene x Daryl) - by @ladywuvly

When Skies are Gray (we only have the first chapter so far but I'm already hooked) - by @optimist-pine

The World Keeps Getting Hotter (Daryl fears death for the first time, because of you) - by @celtic-crossbow

Older and Older Pt 2 (first fic is younger reader tormenting Daryl with her suggestiveness, second is the smutty payoff for his suffering) - by @d1xonss

Love me, love my cat (Daryl isn’t a cat guy but he doesn’t have a damn choice) by - @spectacular-skywalker

Best Served Cold (Walsh!Reader gets revenge on cheating fiancé with Daryl) - by @gutsby

Afterglow (a lovely Bethyl where Beth survived and ends up in the CRM) - by @galadrieljones

Failed to Protect You (a sad self insert but worth the tears) - by @on-twd-writing

Sleeveless (suggestive & lusty little one shot) - by @fluffy-dixon