#um i lOVE DARYL AS USUAL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rite4fun · 1 year

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sweet storms

this is one of those fics that i started in the mist of writing others and completely forgot where i was going with it soooooo.. sorry if it sucks! thank you for reblogging my fics, i love every single comment you guys leave so keep them coming !! <3 (not a fan of this work so i only did a brief proofread so don’t look too hard if you see a mistake)

18+ content

••

alexandria. virginia. 2015

“daryl, leave her alone” carol reaches out to slap his arm but he moves before she makes contact.

“yer telling me ya ain’t a little bit curious on how she’s managed this long, the girl should of been one of the first ta go” daryls forced to move further away when carol tries to swat at him again.

the sun is beginning to set as the pair stand on the porch of the house they have claimed. both leaning against the railing as they watch onto the sight of some members of the community playing with the kids.

specifically you.

you chase the smaller children around in a long floral pink dress and white tennis shoes. a bright smile present that could battle the suns glare. the laughter of the kids fill the empty space as you reach down and pick one up, swinging their small body before gently setting them down and repeating the process again with another young one.

“she’s sweet. should hang out with her, think you’ll like her more than you think” daryl chances a glance at carol before scoffing, shaking his head before turning his attention back to your form.

you’ve given up on picking the kids up, even from across the street, daryl can see the thin layer of sweat glistening on your skin. he subconsciously licks his lips as he watches the way you wave goodbye to the small children as their parents pull them home.

“not sure we have anythin’ in common..” daryl grumbles in opposition.

“maybe not.. but doesn’t hurt to make other friends” carol throws a knowing look towards him as he grunts in response. he doesn’t need friends, never has and never will. especially not with someone like you.

“can make friends if i want too but i definitely won’t be choosin’ someone who believes life is nothin’ but prancing in a field and bakin’ cookies like we’re in some goddamn movie” carol steps closer, successfully swatting his arm this time. it doesn’t hurt but he grabs it with his hand and goes to complain-

“shh.. hi y/n!” daryl whips his head down to where you’ve approached the sidewalk infront of their house. you have two glasses of lemonade in your hands and a bag hanging from one wrist.

“hi carol!” daryl watches from under his bangs as your gaze shifts to him nervously, “hi daryl..”

he grunts in response before turning his attention to a hang nail on his thumb and when your eyes is no longer linger on him, his eyes are flickering to meet your form again, drinking in the sight as if he had a sudden quench of thirst.

“um.. i saved some lemonade and treats for you guys. didn’t want you guys to miss out even though i know you guys aren’t big on crowds..” you’re bashful, a blush on the high of your cheekbones, daryl can’t tell if it’s from the hours in the sun or his sharp gaze on you.

“well isn’t that sweet..” carol nudges him as she walks by to the stairs, sharing slight eye contact before she’s meeting you at the bottom step, “you didn’t have too, really”

“it was no problem! i usually make extra anyway, like to have them on hand for the kiddos..” when your hands are free, you place them behind your back and sway on your feet. the closer you’ve gotten, daryl can see more clearly the shine against your skin, a soft glow from your day in the sun in comparison to the pinkish hue that rests on your cheeks and across your nose.

daryl is many things but never a liar. he can recognize when someone is attractive and despite your infuriating bubbly personality, you are pretty. he doesn’t think he has ever met someone like you who at the very glance of, raises his blood pressure and nether regions. it’s conflicting and frustrating.

“thank you, you’ll have to come over and teach me a few things.. been awhile since i’ve been in the kitchen!” carol shares a laugh with you.

“of course! just let me know.. i’m free whenever!” your words fall into the air, silence encapsulates the space around you three.

“well, it’s getting late. i’m going to go set these things up in the kitchen then head off to bed. thank you again, y/n. have a good night” you bid her an even sweeter farewell, promising to come by soon as she goes to disappear into the house.

daryl is quick to get up, refusing to be with you alone but of course, life is never that easy. you call out his name softly just as he places his hand on the door knob.

looking over his shoulder, his eyes gaze over your figure. you still stand at the bottom of the steps, hands now clasped infront of your body as your fingers intertwine in a nervous habit. your eyes face the ground a couple inches from his feet, chewing on the corner of your mouth, deep in thought as you struggle to find the words.

“ya need somethin’?” you jump at his voice as you finally meet his piercing glare, he can’t help but soften when he sees the slight fearful look you hold.

your fingers wring together before you rip them apart roughly, a blatant frustration in your own ability to speak up, “um.. yeah, actually.. i-i found a bow in my basement.. you seem to know how to use them, was wondering if maybe.. you’ll teach me?”

daryl takes in the insecurity that lingers in your tone, your head having fallen forward, casting a curtain of bangs to cover your face: a clear indication that it took a lot of courage to ask him such a simple question.

yet he finds himself ready to deny it, not seeing himself set aside time to teach someone let alone the patience- plus he still doesn’t think being alone with you is a good idea..

but then you are looking up at him.

head tilted to the side with doe eyes and pouty lips at the prolonged silence from the lack of his response.

daryl can feel his body flush red with desire at the sight, his eyes narrowing, tongue quick to swipe over his dry lips as his hips shift to adjust himself discreetly.

“sure” his tone gruff with heat.

your eyes flicker with a new light, a smile curving onto your pink lips, “really?” you speak hopefully, bopping onto the tops of your toes in excitement, daryl can’t help his eyes flashing down to your chest that bounces with the sudden movement.

he is really trying not to lose it, his hands forming tight fists until his knuckles whiten as he nods begrudgingly, ready to end this conversation and finally head inside for a shower, specifically a cold one.

“okay! when?”

“tomorrow. we done?” despite the miffed tone in which he speaks, you still beam in elation, nodding in agreement to his question.

“it’s a date then!” daryl chokes on his own breath at your exclamation, “i’ll meet you here tomorrow!” you send him one last sweet grin, teeth flashing in white gleams before you bound away, a newfound pep in your steps.

daryl releases a breath he didn’t know he was even holding but lingering no further on the front porch, he opens the door and steps inside.

“a date, hm?” carol stands off to the side, clearly having eavesdropped on the conversation, an amused smirk placed upon her lips.

“stop” daryl shuts her down with a flush to his cheeks, ignoring her laughter as he makes a dash for the basement where his room resides.

he slips into the ensuite, turning the cold water on and stepping his entire clothed body into the shower in hopes of washing away the fiery pit that had settled into the pit of his stomach. he faces the shower head, his forearm resting against the wall as he presses his forehead to it, the water cascading over his head and down his back.

a shaky breath releases from his lips as his eyes slip closed, only to open seconds later when flashes of you and your body enter his mind along with every dirty thought imaginable.

he succumbs to them, his eyes pinching shut with a hint of shame as he envisions your body kneeling before him with those doe eyes and pouty lips.

he grunts as his hand defiantly slips down his front, cupping his bulge to the thoughts of you innocently begging him to touch you as you lie beneath him, squirming against his body and releasing sweet pleas-

daryl releases a growl before pushing his back flat to the cool tile of the shower wall quelling the heat that flushed over his body, his chest heaves with deep breaths as he removes his hand from himself, refusing to give into the burning need to get off to the thought of you.

an urge he finds himself constantly fighting since he’s met you and the many reasons he keeps himself away- never to subject you to the many filthy thoughts he has.

the idea of being alone with you is as daunting as ever and a situation daryl has worked to never make possible but yet, there he was- unable to deny you.

••

“hold it there..” daryl uses his finger to point at the indented grip, “raise it until ya can see out this slight window, tha’s where ya line ya target up with”

you sigh is frustration, dropping your arms along with the recurve bow in your hands, “why aren’t we training outside the walls? isn’t that where those dead things are?”

“i ain’t takin’ ya out there until ya learn how ta protect yerself, do i look like a babysitter?” ever since daryl brought you to this empty space inside the walls, void of people but lined with trees, you have had an attitude.

clearly unhappy with his remark, you huff and bring the bow back into position, “not going to learn much if i don’t even have an arrow to practice with..”

“i’ll get ya one when ya can keep a steady hand” daryl watches you roll your eyes, he finds his own patience wearing thin, yet the irritation that rolls off you in waves is intriguing. he has yet to see you as anything but charming, bubbly, happy. this side of you is new and just another reason why he can’t stand you because why the fuck does he find it kinda hot?

daryl shakes his head- both at his ridiculous thoughts and the way you handle the bow, “ya dun’ hav’ta grip it so tightly, just ‘nough to keep ya stable”

your arms drop again in exasperation, “maybe if you showed me how to do it instead of just pointing, i’d learn better!”

daryl had purposefully kept space between your figures, opting to stand off to the side and using his voice for directions instead of demonstrating- another reason to add to your growing frustration.

“‘m good, now show me again” he nods his head towards the bow and the makeshift target on a tree ahead that you’ve been aiming at for the past thirty minutes but you make no motions to move, not at first anyway.. instead choosing to stare down his person in annoyance, hoping to intimidate him into doing what you asked but you finally give up and do as told, “hm.. k, pull the string back as if ya have an arrow.. keep ya head straight, breathe, then release once ya feel like ya locked on ya target”

“not going to have much time to breathe if a dead one is trying to eat me” you mutter under your breath as you adjust your stance.

“by the way ya holdin’ tha’ bow, ya already are walker food if tha’ was the case” daryl can see the last bit of resolve you held melt away at his teasing words.

“then show me!” clear aggravation in your tone as you yell at him, “you say you’ll teach me yet you haven’t done anything but point and tell me i’m doing it wrong!” your foot stomps childishly, your arms crossing over your chest which pushes your breasts up. the little bit of cleavage showing from your tank top now accentuated by the gesture and daryl is a weak weak man as his eyes fall to the sight.

although not strenuous work- handling a bow, the heat of the sun still boils down on them, creating a thin sheen of sweat over your bodies; your chest in particular glistening.

it’s almost hypnotic.

“uh.. think we’re done ‘ere” he cuts his gaze sharply, swiping a hand over his upper lip then scratching his back of head as he looks everywhere but you.

“what?” you ask perplexed.

daryl seemingly pays no regard to your confused state as he packs up what little things he brought, “carol prolly teach ya better, ask ‘er”

“why?” he ignores your questioning, “stop dar-“ your stalking towards him now, grabbing onto his arm as he goes to walk away, “why are you leaving?! you said you’d teach me-“

“n i told ya i ain’t no babysitter!” daryl rips his arm from your grip, “figure it out yerself”

before he’s stomping off, he gets a glimpse of your upset facial expression. your eyes filled with confusion and a lingering of hurt at his words. he finds his feet stuttering, an overwhelming urge to stay and take back what he said, anything to get rid of the look on your face that sends an unsettling ache to his chest.

he feels utterly ridiculous and uncomfortable that you make him feel so many things.

his head shakes as his long strides take him away from your stunned figure: a hope of getting rid of the unknown feelings that seem to possess his body when your around.

••

trees rustle as the wind breezes through the gaps. the leaves crunch under his heavy foot in the otherwise stark woods. he’d been tracking a deer for a week now, the same amount of time it has been since he last talked to you.

it wasn’t like he outwardly avoided you though, if the situation ever arises that you’d both be in the same place- he’d just simply ignore you.

but he’d seen very little of you during this period, not that he ever actively looked for you but given you lived across from his and carols house, he figured he would catch atleast a glimpse of you but it was like you vanished from his life- not that you were ever really in it to begin with.

the first few days, he kept himself busy, spending most his days in aarons garage, working on his bike before stumbling home as the sun began to set to meet up with carol for dinner.

he found himself glancing at your home, searching for a sign of life but it’d almost seemed abandoned. even carol became concerned, questioning him as he remained silent and indifferent on the matter before she took it upon herself to approach your home to make sure everything was alright.

it was only hours later that carol came home to chew him out for suddenly leaving your training session with such dismissive words. still didn’t change his mind though.. and soon it became apparent that she decided to take over when she disappeared for hours on end. you seemingly just as gone for those hours too and it didn’t take a genius to assume you guys had been training.

alas, it wasn’t his problem anymore.

you weren’t his problem anymore and that should have been a good thing.

except he found himself waking up everyday with his first thought being you. would he see you that day? were you still upset with him? what were you wearing?

it was like that one day of training with you opened a can of persistent worms inside his brain as he found himself thinking of you more often than not- which irritated him beyond belief.

even now, as his focus should be on tracking this big game that would benefit everyone.. all he can think about is setting aside some so that carol could personally deliver it you as he watches from the safety of his home, just so he could catch a glimpse of you. it’s an utterly ridiculous thought and one he probably won’t even follow through with but it’s there, lingering along the many other thoughts he has of you.

daryl huffs in frustration, kicking at the lost trail he continues to follow. as time passed, he’d found the ground no longer held the traces he very knowingly could tell was a deer but now, it’s as if it was picked up- evaporating into thin air as the tracks end abruptly.

another hunting expedition ending in failure.

he doesn’t have time to dwell on it for too long when a short scream catches his ears. he stands for a second as it echos in through the trees, an attempt to dissect the direction it came from. another sharp yelp is released and he is quick to dash towards it.

upon arriving to the scene, he comes up behind a fallen body that scrambles haphazardly backwards on the ground as two walkers stumble towards them.

daryl shoots his crossbow at one before unsheathing his knife and stepping forward to stab the other before turning around to the figure that lays still on the earths floor.

a heat of fury flares in his body when his mind realizes just who he’d come across, “are ya fuckin’ crazy?!”

a look of hurt and confusion cover your features at the clear edge of anger in his tone.

“wha’ tha hell are ya thinkin’?!” daryl looks at you incredulously before scouting the surrounding area, “where’s carol?”

your eyebrows draw deeper over your eyes as you continue to look up at him, your silence enough for him to understand.

“ya out ‘ere alone..?” although his voice is quiet, there is heat behind his words and even without the shake of his head at your prolonged silence, you can sense the irration that is beginning to roll off his figure.

it’s almost like looking at you is too much and he has to turn himself away, taking several deep breaths to calm the ever building rage he feels at knowing you put yourself into a dangerous situation.

no one probably knows you’re outside the walls and if you had been successfully eaten by those walkers, no one would have known you were even gone, he wouldn’t have known if anything happened to you. the idea nearly sends him into a heart attack and he finds himself overwhelmed with the urge to vomit but he holds it in, pushing all other negative thoughts and outcomes to the back of his mind.

his back still faces you, “get up. we’re going home” his words leave no room for you to argue, not that you really planned too.

daryl listens as you get up, his body twitching when you wince in pain but he makes no motions to turn around and check on you, instead he focuses on the aural of your actions to make sure your following his instructions.

the walk back to alexandria is quiet, he keeps an eye out for walkers but luck must be on your side when you stumble upon none. your steps behind him are staggered and loud, perfect enough that he is able to hear you without having to physically turn around to see you are still with him.

the cool breeze helps soothe some of the fire that is lit within him but he knows the second he faces you, it will flare again and he’ll lash out.

given that you didn’t respond so well to his words, he figures it’s best he keep quiet for now.

as the sun begins to set, the community begins to quiet down. not many roam the streets, especially when the weather begins to drop as fall approaches.

your uneven steps stay behind him, all the way to his home and as he stops at his front door, your body stumbles into his back with a small “oof”

you shuffle backwards with an almost mute apology as daryl turns around. your glum figure stands before him, shoulders curved in and a dejected look across your features.

it’s a pitiful sight that burns a new light in his body as you look up at him with such despair.

“wha’ are ya doin’ ‘ere?” it seems to take you a second to understand his words before you’re looking around the area, spotting the front door and the four digit numbers that settle next to it, clearly off to the ones that sit on your own home.

“oh.. um- i-“ daryl watches as you struggle to string a sentence together, hands wringing together in that same nervous habit. you stumble backwards, wincing in pain again and his eyes flicker down your person, searching for the cause of your distress. his eyes catch on the tear on the side of your jeans, reaching from your knee and halfway down your calf.

“wha’ did ya do?” he sweeps his body down to inspect the injury, a clean cut revealed from the split denim. “how’d this happen?”

“i-i don’t remember” your adrenaline of almost dying then the overwhelming disappointment of daryls disapproval had you paralyzed to any pain you may have felt but now, standing here with full acknowledgment of the wound- it burns and you find yourself shifting to one leg to reduce pressure on the one that’s been hurt.

daryl watches your shifting feet before he stands upright, immediately slipping an arm around your waist and guiding you into the house. in other circumstances, his body would be aflame at finally feeling your body in his hands but right now you’re physically hurt and he’s filled with an overwhelming desire to do anything to make sure you’re okay again.

“give me a sec” he helps you settle onto the couch gently before scrambling to get the first aid kit from the kitchen and coming back in an equally quick fashion.

his movements are swift yet soft, lifting your leg over his own, cutting your jeans- with your permission, and tending to the gash on your leg.

it’s all very mechanical; his motions. his mind doesn’t quite catch up to the fact that he sits so close to your body with your leg in his lap until your all bandaged up. only then, does he finds himself in an awkward position- unsure of his next gestures.

luckily you seem to not mind nor notice his hestitation as you fold your leg, bringing the wound closer to your body as your fingers dance over the white dressing.

it’s quiet for a short notice, your bodies still so close as your knee now presses into his upper thigh but daryl can’t find it in himself to move away.

“thank you..” your voice is timid, “for saving me.. and you know..” you gesture to the covered area of your leg as your head hangs further in embarrassment.

“wha’ were ya doin’ out there alone?” daryl still can’t understand why you would even step outside the walls with full knowledge that you weren’t quite prepared for what lays ahead.

“carol was going to take me but..” your shoulders drop, “she got held up at the pantry, said we would go another day.. i-i just needed to get out so i snuck out”

“ya didn’t tell no one?” his questioned filled with disbelief, before he was just guessing but the confirmation of it has him fueling up in anger again.

“i didn’t expect to be out long.. just wanted to see what it was like” you shrug your shoulders.

“ya were lookin’ for trouble, tha’s wha’” daryl shakes his head at your carelessness.

“i wasn’t purposefully and it was only two dead ones! i could have handled it” your arms cross defiantly over your chest.

“yuh. looked like ya had it all handled” he rolls his eyes as he stands up, the irration of being in your presence again rising in his chest.

“you’re so mean” it’s childish the way the words spill from your mouth, a pout settling upon your lips after as your head hangs even further.

you remind him a lot of someone.. someone who was just as sensitive but held a fire within them that opened up his own softness.

someone he couldn’t protect then.

he’d be damned if you fell to the same fate because his own feelings got in the way.. daryl has a staggering realization that he’d do absolutely anything to make sure you were safe, including training you so that you would be able to protect yourself.

“‘m sorry” your head whips up fast to stare at his figure that stands a few feet away, back still turned and all.

“w-what?”

“i said ‘m sorry” daryl spins around, “not good at.. this” he can still see you are confused, “jus’ dun’ want ya hurt”

it’s silent for a bit before your lips curve into a small smile, “i’m sorry too.. i won’t go out anymore without letting you- someone know!”

daryl can only nod, the atmosphere feels intimate and that’s a feeling he has yet to figure out how to navigate so all he can do is shift awkwardly.

“i-i can keep trainin’ ya..” he realizes how dumb he sounds once the words have left his mouth, carol is already doing it so why insert himself when it’s clearly been handled?

he doesn’t have to dwell on it too long when your spirit seems to liven again, eyes wide and bright, “really?”

once again he finds himself at a loss of words, shoving his hands into his front pockets as he sways his body and nods his head in confirmation. truthfully he would feel more comfortable if he was the one to do it, atleast then he’d know that you were properly trained- no offense to carol but it would lighten the weight in his heart to physically see that you were able to protect yourself and not just take word for it.

••

“and keep ya hand ‘here” daryl swallows roughly as your body heat rests against his front.

it’s been a hell of a day of training, from trying to teach you the proper way of holding the bow to his many attempts of keeping his own excitement down everytime he has to be in close proximity of you.

“here?” a breathy word releases from you and you have to know what you are doing when your hips sway against his, he has adjusted your stance- there should be no reason for you to be shifting.

“mhm..” he clears his throat, putting distance in between your bodies as he allows you to shoot whenever you please. the arrow shoots past the target on the tree and you’re turning to him with a pout. “yer’ll get it, jus’ be patient”

at his soft reassurances, you nod with a smile and walk to get the arrow, bringing it back to try again. already he can tell you are going to miss so he saddles up back against you, arms reaching around and adjusting the position of them.

“breathe..” the words are a soft whisper near your ear and even though he feels your body shiver against his, you still find enough control to let the arrow go and hitting the target.

“i did it!” you gasp excitedly, pulling away to point at it as he nods his head in agreement with his own soft smile at your radiance.

he doesn’t expect your figure to be bounding over to him- your arms snaking around his neck and bouncing on your toes as you thank him profusely- so his arms remain limp at his sides.

when you don’t let go after a few seconds, he allows himself to divulge in his desire of placing his hands on you, wrapping his arms around your back to encompass you fully into him.

daryl isn’t sure how long you two stand like that but whatever time limit your affections had was not enough as he feels you reel back. as luck will have it, you only lean your head back, arms still settled over his shoulders but your faces now only inches apart.

his eyes travel over every expanse of your face; this close and he can count every eyelash, the scattered freckles that paint delicately over your cheeks and dictate the exact hue of your eyes as they gaze up at him.

he can’t help when his eyes fall to your plump pink lips, subconsciously licking his own.

“you want to kiss me daryl?” your words don’t catch up to him for a bit as he is stuck in a trance but when they do, his whole body twitches in shock.

“w-wh-what?” his brain stutters to find the right words.

“you can.. if you want too” your head tilts prettily, a soft encouraging smile on your lips, “i want you too”

his resolve breaks at your approval, a switch of confidence turning on in his body at you being so open and willing.

“i can, hm?” his words full of taunt as you nod mutely, suddenly bashful at your own forwardness. it takes him a moment to fully grasp that you actually want him to kiss you, long enough that you become impatient-

“please?” the word leaves your lips in a soft whisper, so polite and sweet, he thinks as it only lights the fire burning is his heart even more.

“since ya askin’ so nicely” his head dips down, hovering over your lips with his before slotting them together. your lips part slowly before a fevor of need takes over and he’s pressing them harder together. a whimper releasing from your throat and daryl can’t believe you’re fucking real.

he finds his hands have a mind of their own; one cupping the back of your head to guide you and the other wandering down your body, caressing your waist and settling just above your bottom- pushing your hips further into his.

your lips part with a resounding smack, the sound alone having you both pulling back together for one final drawled out kiss.

“mmm.. wanted you to do that for so long” you smile blissfully, sighing in content in his arms.

“ya been plannin’ this?”

“not exactly. you did catch my eye when your group first arrived but you’re not an easy man to get alone so carol said i had to find similar interests..” you shrug your shoulders, “and i’ve always wanted to learn how to use the bow”

he remembers how you were one of the only ones in the community to greet them with open arms immediately, bringing them random items that you thought were useful and treating them to all the baked goods you could make.

it was no wonder carol talked you up, it wasn’t like he didn’t know you were a good person- his judgement of character was always spot on but you also held the utter disregard of reality as the many other alexandrians.

although it seemed he was a little off on that mark as you atleast had an interest in learning how to protect yourself.

“ya been chattin’ it up with carol ‘bout me?”

“sometimes.. we talk about a lot of things together but you’re one topic” your tone holds hidden secrets as you pull further away from him with a small teasing smirk.

“like wha’?” his hands reach out to grab at your body, an attempt to pull you back and lay flush against his own.

“things you like..” you’ve gone bashful and his heart thuds painfully in his chest, you’re just so damn sweet.

“mhm, n wha’ that?” something about flustering you was so very enticing to him.

a flush of pink spreads beautifully over your cheeks, “just things..”

“well tha’s not fair.. ya been plottin’ behind my back” mock condensation in his tone as you peer through your lashes at him, “wha’ do i get outta it?”

your eyes light up at his suggestive words before your dropping to your knees.

his stomach tightens as he watches your hands fiddle with his belt, the clanging of metal echoing in the small area. he scans to make sure you guys are still far enough hidden in the trees, the field of woodland you both reside in sits at the back of the community- normally void of any human interactions.

distracted by his own actions, he jumps as your hand wraps around his cock- seemingly have pulled him out of his briefs and jeans while he was stuck in his own head.

now though, he watches as your wrist twists dryly over him, the sensation painfully good.

and it only gets better when your lips finally part, allowing his tip to be swallowed into your warm, wet mouth.

daryl grunts, “good girl..”

your eyes gaze up at him, twinkling at his praise before you’re taking him further, tongue relentlessly twirling anywhere it could reach. you push yourself more, wanting to have him all but he’s too big and you’re gagging, having to pull off to take a deep breath and sending him a sickly sweet pout.

his hand is quick to reach down and cup your chin, thumbing at your slick bottom lip, “yer unreal”

your lips spread into a smile before your pushing forward again, feeling the weight of him on your tongue and humming in satisfaction.

you’re sloppy with the way you handle him, tongue swiping messily at the sensitive veins of his cock, saliva building up and making the glide of your mouth easier.

daryl wants to watch it all but finds himself falling victim to the pleasure, eyes rolling as his head falls back with a deep groan.

as if his moan was encouragement, you’re hand drops to caress his balls as your head bops faster. he drops his head forward, peeking through his fallen bangs to watch you, “hmph.. tha’s it” his hand comes to rest on the back of your head, gripping a handful of hair.

he won’t last long, not with how good it feels to have you on your knees infront of him, looking like an absolute vision.

you must sense it too as you pull off, kitten licking around his cock before suckling on his tip and that, that nearly sends him over.

“let me see ya” his voice gruff with pleasure as the hand in your hair tightens, pulling you completely off of him and tilting your head up. his hand covers the one you still have pumping the base of his cock, your mouth dropping open, close enough that you still can flick your tongue against his slit.

you hum as your lips slip around his mushroom tip, mouth suctioning tightly before releasing him with one last flick of your tongue.

he wishes he could milk this out forever, the feeling unbearably good and your pretty face gazing up at him has his stomach clenching but alas, he doesn’t know how long before someone stumbles across you guys and he’d rather not be interrupted.

“gonn’ swallow for me, sweet girl?” you nod your head eagerly, mouth dropping open as he jerks both of your hands back and forth. his mouth releases grunts and groans of pure pleasure before his hips jerk and he finally comes.

the first blurb of cum lands on your tongue before your pushing your head forward again to close your lips around his tip, suctioning every last bit of it into your mouth until the oversensitivity becomes too much and he’s pulling your head back with his grip on the back of your head.

you settle back onto your knees once he completely releases you, content to swipe your chin from the spit and cum that mixed and drippled down it before licking your fingers clean mindlessly.

his cock twitches at the sight before he is putting himself back into his jeans as you rise to your feet with a look of elation.

“mm, think we’re even now” you giggle and daryl can only shake his head with bemusement, a smile curling on his lips before he grabs the back of your head and smashing his lips against yours- your body falling into his and molding perfectly in his hands.

how he ever thought he could resist you is beyond him because now that you’re here; your soft warm body in his arms and having tasted the sweetness of your lips, he has plans of never letting you go.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus #twd x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryldixon #daryl dixon x reader fic #rite4fun #romantic #pining #smut

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holdmytesseract · 2 years

Text

Frozen Hearts?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Request: "Hi um..this is my first time asking and I don't know if your taking requests but I was wondering if you could do a Daryl and the reader get into a heated argument about how the reader went missing for a couple of days while on a run and Daryl goes after them but can't find them so he thinks that the same thing happened to them like the same thing happened to Sophia (if that makes any sense?) And after a couple days after Daryl lits a building on fire for some reason? And reader comes stumbling out of the building and Daryl sees that and the listener is just trying to get away from the fire and Daryl just grabs them and drags them away. Then he throws them on the ground and starts to yell at them and the listener starts to yell back and you could choose the rest :D Thank you!! ^^" - Requested by a nonny! 😄

Summary: You get lost on a run, due to a herd of walkers overrunning the small town you and your group went to. Daryl spends days outside, searching for you. When he does find you, it comes to a heated argument…

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff - walkers, fire, injuries, angst, fluff

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 2,9k

a/n: Ahhhh, I love thiiis! Hope you like it as well, nonny! 🥰 Thanks for requesting! 😁

Quick note: I know, it's unlikely for wood to burn, when there's snow outside and so on, but ahhh, it just fit so well... Sorry, I hope you guys don't mind!

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl (Tell me, if I should stop tagging you in my Daryl fics, boo! I promise, I won't be mad! x) @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni

If you want to be added to my Daryl taglist, please let me know! 😊

MASTERLIST

The wind howled around the houses of Alexandria. It was going to be a few hard months, everyone could tell. There wasn't much time left before the start of the winter. About one or two weeks - according to Eugene. So, the goal was to get as much supplies as somehow possible, in order to get everyone through those cold months ahead. Everybody helped as best as possible - including you. Together with a few other citizens from Alexandria, you went on a run to gather some more medical stuff. There was a small town - about a day ride away from the community. Daryl had found it on a hunt a few weeks ago. The town was in the forest, rather hidden, so you hoped it was most widely untouched.

Leading a group of three people, you made your way to the said town in the planned time slot. It took you almost exactly 24 hours. Together, you had searched for a safe place to stay the night. Everything went smoothly. Even the break in of the abandoned doctor's office. But once you all had made it out alive and well, everything went south on a sudden. Seemingly out of nowhere, a big herd of walkers - probably about 30 or 40 literally overran the town. There were too many of them and too less of you to fight them off, and in between all the panic and trouble, you got separated from the group...

Daryl didn't come often to Alexandria these days. He spent the most time out in the woods, still searching for Rick and trying to somehow get over his grief. It wasn't that easy, though. Alexandria just reminded him even more of his lost brother, so he didn't turn up a lot. But when he paid the community a visit, then because of one reason... You. You two knew each other since the prison and grew incredibly close over the time and all the shitty, horrible things you experienced together with your family.

This time he walked through the steel gates of Alexandria, it was the same reason as always... You.

The archer greeted everyone he saw on his way, until he reached your small, cosy house. Just as he wanted to knock at the door, his actions got interrupted by a voice behind him. "She isn't here, Daryl." Michonne. Word had spread fast, that the archer was back in the community. He spun around to face his friend. "What ya mean, she ain't here?" Michonne took a deep breath and stepped closer, pulling the winter coat she wore ever tighter. It was freezing. "Y/N went out on a run three days ago. Things went south. A large herd of walkers overran the small town you found and-" Daryl felt how his heart beat increased, pumping more blood through his veins. "She dead?" He asked dryly, tears already starting to build up in his eyes. Daryl lost his brother... He couldn't lose you, too. But to his sheer relief, shook Michonne her head. "No... Just missing. We hope she isn't dead, but... We don't know. Two people of her group came back and told us." "Did you search for 'er?" The leader of Alexandria squeezed her eyes shut and began to slowly shake her head. "We wanted, but like you see, it already started to snow. Eugene's weather forecast wasn't exactly correct. A snow storm is coming - and we both know it'd be too dangerous to go out there now. I'm sorry." Daryl clenched his teeth, felt how anger started to flood his system. Snow storm or not. It was no excuse to just leave you out there alone with dozens of walkers and other threats. "For you." Daryl simply said, before he rushed past Michonne. "Daryl! You can't go out there now! Especially not alone!" He adjusted his poncho and tapped the side of his right thigh to let Dog know he should follow him - which the dog immediately did out course. "You can't stop me! I ain't sittin' here around 'n lettin' Y/N out there alone, jus' because of a little bit snow." Michonne tried to argue with the archer, but it was no use of course. Daryl didn't listen to another word his friend said, slung his crossbow back over his shoulder and marched straight for the gates. "Come on, Dog." Dog barked at the call of his name and quickly followed his master. Michonne followed the pair as well, still trying to stop her friend. "Daryl!" He didn't listen, of course. Once Daryl Dixon was determined to do something, there was no stopping him. Before the leader of Alexandria was able to catch up with the archer, the heavy metal doors got already closed shut behind him.

Daryl searched for you. Day after day after day. His first destination had been of course the small town you went to on the run. There had been still quite a few walkers - some of them on the verge of freezing to the ground. Daryl quickly got rid of them and searched together with Dog every nook and cranny of the town. "Y/N?!" The small school. Empty. "Y/N?!" The doctor's office. Empty. "Y/N?!" The supermarket. Empty. He searched everywhere, even at the gas station, but he found nothing besides a few other walkers. Usually, the archer had no problem in finding people. He was a tracker, it was his forte, but the horrible weather conditions and the constant snow fall made the situation worse. Together with the constant wind, erasing all traces, it was almost impossible. But Daryl wouldn't be Daryl, if he gave up just yet, so he continued to look for you for another few days, scoured the area around the town for you - but it was no use. He just couldn't find you. It bothered Daryl. More than he was ready to admit. The fact that you were still missing unlocked something deep inside him. Not just fear, no... Awful flashbacks from the beginning. The dreadful day little Sophia went missing. How he and the others - but especially he searched for days - almost weeks, but couldn't find her. He couldn't find the girl. Daryl failed. And because of that, they lost Sophia. The archer would never forget the moment she walked out of that damn barn, hissing and snarling - turned into a walker. He would never forget how Carol broke down, crying. Or how Rick shot her in the head in front of everybody. What if history was repeating itself? What if that was exactly what happened to you as well? Gods, he could never forgive himself if that was the case. Daryl just had to find you.

Another day passed. Over a week and you were still missing. The only good thing was, that the harsh snow storm had stopped. Now it was just bitterly cold outside. Daryl's plan of searching led him even further away from Alexandria.

He and Dog had everything under control, scoured profoundly the area - until the archer found himself in a very unpleasant situation... A large herd of walkers surprised him, caused him and Dog to run for their lives. The archer didn't know how this could happen. They just came out of nowhere. While he tried to get away from the hungry, snarling threat behind him, he tried to think of a plan to get rid of them. Fate seemed to be good to him for once. A small, wooden hut came in sight, as he quickly walked - running was for a longer period not possible, due to the snow. Panting, he searched in his pockets for matchsticks. This could work, he thought. No... It had to work. Fighting them was no option. Taking on twenty plus walkers alone could be difficult. And he couldn't run away forever as well. It would drain his energy - and he hadn't exactly that much left anyways. Setting this hut on fire was probably his only chance. Daryl just hoped, that the wood wasn't too wet from the snow. He had to try it, hadn't he? So, he marched as fast as possible up to the hut.

After a few desperate tries of getting the old wood to burn and the threatening snarling coming closer and closer, he finally made it. The wood caught fire. Daryl rounded the small hut to bring himself and Dog into safety, watching the fire spreading quickly. Soon, it would go up in flames. Daryl was relieved that his plan worked out - until he saw the back door of the hut bursting open. Someone stumbled out of the hut, coughing. The archer narrowed his eyes, only to recognise that it was... His eyes immediately widened again. You... It was you! Daryl literally jumped up from his hiding spot, "Stay, Dog." and ran over to you. "Y/N!"

You were still coughing heavily as you tried to get away from the fire. You tried to run, but it was impossible, like the searing pain in your leg reminded you immediately. A painful hiss escaped your lips. You looked down, examined the gaping wound on your thigh again. It was bleeding - again. You somehow made it to slice open your thigh as you tried to escape from the walkers, back in that small town. "Y/N!" You lifted immediately your head at the call of your name - and saw a figure running towards you. You couldn't believe your eyes. Was this...? Could it be? "Daryl?!" You cried out, hissing in pain again. He reached you a few moments later, holding onto your shoulders. "Y/N?! Are ya alright?" You nodded with tears in your eyes. Gods, you were so happy to see him. "Y-Yeah, just... Hurt my leg..." Daryl quickly gazed down to take a look at the wound, but got distracted by the herd of walkers getting closer and closer, reminding him of the threat, which was on its way to the burning hut. "C'mon. We gotta get away from 'ere." The archer wrapped your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist to steady you and help you walk.

Of course, was Daryl happy that he had found you, but the bottled up feelings and fears of losing you just like he lost Sophia, caused his blood to boil. It was only a matter of time, until he was going to burst - something you couldn't know. Once he had brought you into safety, he let go of you - literally pushing you away from him, his feelings taking over and resulting in you, stumbling backwards and falling to the snowy ground, because of your injured leg. "Daryl, what-" You wanted to ask, but he didn't let you. "Goddamnit, Y/N! What were ya thinkin'?!" He yelled. You looked up at him confused. What was that now about? You questioned yourself. Why was he suddenly yelling? The sudden off behaviour of your friend turned your mood sour as well. "What the hell, Daryl? Why are you yelling at me? What's your problem?" Daryl scoffed. "What my problem is?!" He looked around, as if trying to somehow compose himself - without success. "You are my problem, woman! Why did ya go on that damn run, alone?!" Now it was your time to scoff. "I wasn't alone! I had a team!" "Ya call those three Savior pricks a team? For god's sake, Y/N... That ain't a team! They left ya alone out there, saved their own asses and went back to Alexandria! Why didn't you take Aaron with ya? Or Rosita? Or me?" You swallowed hard at his words. Did they really do that? Did they really give up on you? "Ya could've died! Bit or eaten by a walker - or worse! What if the Whisperers would've found ya?! Ya could've been killed!" "Right, Dixon! Could have! But I didn't!" You stood up from the cold ground. Your leg protested against this, but you didn't care, ignored the pain and just clenched your jaw. "I can look after myself!" You turned on your heels, ready to walk away. "I don't need a watchdog - and I certainly don't need you!" Ouch. Those words cut deep. It was an invisible punch to the gut. Daryl was like petrified for a moment, as he watched you hobble away, further into the woods. He didn't know, that you regretted the thing you said immediately, but you were too angry to take it back. The archer swallowed hard, now angry at himself for letting his bottled-up feelings take over. Did you really mean that? You didn't need him? This heated argument made Daryl realise two things. One: He cared about you - a lot. And two: No matter if you didn't need him. He needed you.

Afraid, that he might have lost you for real now, he quickly ran after you, with Dog close behind. "Y/N! Y/N! Wait!" You heard him calling for you, but didn't even think about stopping. "Please!" But Daryl was quicker on foot than you were and not injured, so he quickly caught up on you. "Y/N, please! 'M sorry!" He gently grabbed your arm to turn you around. "Oh now you're sorry?!" You yelled at him. "You almost killed me by burning this damn hut down and then you just yelled at me without a reason and now you're sorry?!" Daryl hung his head, long, brown strands of his curls falling into his face. "'M sorry..." He repeated, causing you to just scoff, before you turned around and began to walk away once again. That was the moment Daryl realised, that it was probably time to open up to you. To let the true feelings speak. Not his anger.

"I-I jus' yelled at ya, 'cause..." He sighed. "'Cause I was worried sick. Was almost shittin' myself when Michonne told me that ya didn't come back from the run... That the others lost ya... I went out, searchin' for ya, day after day. I was so afraid of losin' ya... So afraid of failin' to find ya - jus' like I failed finding Sophia." You stopped abruptly in your tracks at his words and felt your heart aching at his words. "I yelled at ya, 'cause I care 'bout ya, Y/N... A lot... I couldn't stand losin' ya. I-I need ya. Dunno what to do with myself if ya would be dead." You expected a lot for him to say - but certainly not that. His words literally left you breathless, as he opened up his heart for you.

Without hesitation, you turned to face him, smiling softly. "Daryl Dixon..." You started, shaking your head. "You never fail to surprise me." Daryl looked at you, stunned. "I jus' poured out ma heart to ya - and you... smile?" "Uh, um, yes, because now I know that the feeling is mutual." He furrowed his brows. "M-Mutual?" You nodded, stepping closer to him, until you could place your hands on his grey poncho clad chest. All the anger suddenly vanished; thrown out of the window. Daryl flinched a bit at your sudden touch, didn't see it coming. "I care about you, too, Daryl. So much that it often keeps me awake at night, when you are out there alone to search for Rick or hunt. I liked you from the very beginning. From the day you and the others saved us from Woodbury and brought us to the prison." You smiled even wider, rubbed your hands affectionately over his chest. "Okay, admittedly, I was a bit scared of you at first, 'cause you were quite a bit intimidating, but... I-I guess with time turned intimidation into admiration. Admiration turned into affection. Affection turned into a crush, and well... The crush turned into love. W-What I'm tryin' to say is... I-I think I l-love you." Daryl blinked, still visibly stunned. He needed a moment to catch up. But once, the words had fully sunk in, a warm feeling started to spread throughout the archer's body. A feeling, he never felt that strong in his life before, but he always knew was there – since the prison. Love. It couldn't be something different. Slightly awkwardly, he lifted his hands to place them on your hips, pulling you gently closer. "Love ya, too." The words he never used in his life before, slipped so easily over his lips all of a sudden.

You were beaming now. Your face almost started to hurt from all the smiling. Quickly, you pressed a short, soft kiss on Daryl's lips, taking him by surprise once again. He looked at you shocked at first, but then started to smile, blushing. "Can we go home now, please?" You asked after staring into his beautiful blue eyes for a long moment. "I'm freezing my ass off and this-" You pointed to your thigh. "Really hurts." Daryl nodded quickly, "'Course." and quickly moved to pick you up bridal style. A soft squeak left your lips, followed by a giggle. "Daryl! What are you doing?" "What does it look like?" You shook your head, still giggling, but clasped your hands around his neck. "You can't carry me all the way." Daryl started to walk, whistling for Dog to follow him. "I can and I will. Gotta take care of ma woman." My woman... You liked the sound of that.

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon oneshot #twd #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus characters #norman reedus fanfic

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somethingthing · 2 years

Text

“I came back, didn’t I?”

Daryl Dixon x reader

Warnings: Some angst and suggestive language, implied smut towards the end, but mostly fluff

Word count: 927

A/n: I’m back after like two months and THANK YOU for over 50 followers!! <3 So um I started watching TWD for the first time six days ago, I’m already on season 4. I absolutely love Daryl and have another fic on my mind that I might write about him already. (Also I’m terribly sorry for my poor attempt at his accent)

Daryl had gotten back to camp right in time, with Merle close by. As happy as you were having Daryl back, the thought of Merle sleeping under the same roof as the people you now called family was alarming. But for Daryl’s sake you pushed that thought aside, he had found his brother and you were happy for him, still you couldn’t help but to show concern.

“Carol is right you know, Merle might be your brother, but don’t let him treat you like shit, cause that what he does most of the time” you leaned against the doorframe of the cell, Daryl was laying on his bed, resting his head against the wall.

“I know she is, but Merle is still muh blood” he sounded tired, no, he sounded exhausted. You stepped in, closing the door and pulling the makeshift curtain shut behind you. The group had decided that it was best, mostly for some noise canceling to not wake Judith as easily, but everyone was happy to get some privacy as well.

You made your way over to the bed, for the time being you just sat on the side of it “Most of the group is sleeping, I think at least, haven’t heard much, best we keep our voices down” you gave him a soft smile and patted his leg.

“Are you just gonna sit there or get in?” He looked at you with a smirk. Lord Daryl, don’t do that to me “Come here” He reached his arms out to pull you down on top of him, but you got up, leaving him with a confused look.

“I’m not sleeping next to you when you have that vest on, the leather feels awful” you meant it, you’d fallen asleep on it once before and woke up with a red cheek and marks all over it “And take your shoes of, I don’t understand how you can sleep with them on” He does it to be ready in case of an attack, you knew that but pretend otherwise.

“Hell, if ya want me naked, just say so” his smirk grew wider, but he did as told. He got up and threw off his jacket. The boots he was hesitant about but got them off as well. You slipped yours off along with your own jacket, but that was it. Tonight you were both too exhausted for anything more than just laying in each other’s arms.

The bed was small and usually you would move up to sleep on the top bed, but not tonight. He pulled you in, laying you almost completely on top of him, resting your head on his chest.

It was weird with Daryl, before the beginning of the end you had never felt this comfortable with anyone. Never felt as if you could just relax with someone else like this, but here you were. Laying on top of a 40 something year old man, in an abandoned prison during a zombie apocalypse, feeling more safe and relaxed than ever.

But something was chewing at you, ruining the peace you felt, it was like a weight you couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard you tried. Lost in thought you hadn’t noticed Daryl talking “What’s bothering ya, hmm?” His voice was low and seemed raspier than ever.

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking it over in your head one last time before you spoke “Were you actually just gonna leave? I get that Merle is your brother and that he is important, but you were just going to leave the group like that? Leave me like that?” When the group got back and Rick told that Daryl had gone with Merle you wanted to scream. Sure you weren’t officially dating, but the thought of him just getting up and leaving without saying good bye made your whole body hurt.

He didn’t say anything at first so you hugged him tighter and did your best to not let tears fall. Then he shifted a bit to look at you “I ain’t leaving ya, ye hear that?” He let his hand stroke your hair “I came back, didn’t I?”

“You wouldn’t have had to come back if you never left in the first place” you blurted out. You didn’t mean too, you felt like a angry kid who didn’t get as they wanted saying it. But you were hurt and he needed to know that, “Sorry” you tried to clean up.

“Don’t, I’m the idiot” he chuckled and squeezed you, bowing his head down to kiss your forehead. You tilted your head back meeting his lips with yours instead.

“I’m glad your back” you mumbled between the kisses “But next time you’re gonna do something stupid, at least tell me first so I can decide if I wanna be in on it” it felt good to joke, and it felt even better to hear his low raspy laugh.

“Ye’ve got my word darlin’” he kissed you one last time before resting his head back on the pillow, getting himself ready for sleep.

“Daryl…” you looked up at him, his eyes were closed, did he already fall asleep? “I love you, okey?” You said it as if it was a question, in reality it wasn’t, but saying it straight out felt too big.

First he didn’t move, then the corner of his mouth turned upwards, then he was grinning like a crazy person. Opening his eyes he looked at you “I love you too, okey” and once again he leaned down to captured your lips.

You both smiled into the kiss “Are you mocking me Dixon?” You giggled between the kisses that grew all the more intense, letting your hand cup his cheek.

“Shh people are sleepin’” he chuckled while sliding his hand up under your shirt. Maybe you weren’t that exhausted, feeling his hands on your skin made you feel more awake than ever.

If the others were sleeping or not became less of a concern. If they slept and woke up or were already awake to begin with, neither of you paid any mind too in the moment. Merle would be sure to comment on it in the morning if they had heard anything, let him.

—————————————

Thank you for reading! <3 Again I’m sorry for the terrible attempt on Daryl’s accent, it’s basically copied from other fan fics with him, if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it!

#the walking dead #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #fanfic

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rickmymanrick · 5 months

Text

one rule | chapter seven

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

series masterlist

summary: the plan goes wrong. daphne and glenn find themselves in a precarious situation, but at least they have each other, right?

notes: double update. i couldn't help myself. i love this chapter so much for some reason. it just flows together so nicely to me. scratched my brain the right way.

also if you’d like to read a little bit of rick’s pov in the last chapter (6), be sure to check this out.

Glenn's POV

The plan was simple. It wasn't my walkie-talkie lying abandoned in the middle of the intersection, but I was the fastest out of the group.

If we wanted any chance at succeeding, it would have to be me.

And things were going as smoothly as possible, up until I turned into the alley I planned to meet Daryl in, finding a group of strangers instead.

"Who are you?" One of the men snapped immediately.

"Uh—um—" I had no idea what to say, wondering how to stall until Daryl got here. If shit hit the fan, the odds of me winning against three of them weren't high at all.

"He asked you a question, pendejo," said another one.

"He's got a gun," one of them observed quietly, nudging the burliest dude in interest.

Yeah and I'm about to use it on you fuckers if you try anything.

The fence behind me rattled dangerously and I twisted instinctively. The walkers had caught up, pushing against the gate in a chorus of groans.

The next movements happened too fast.

The back of my shirt was seized aggressively and I was thrown into the brick wall, my gun grabbed from my pocket and pointed against my temple.

One of the other guys grabbed my radio and showed it to the other curiously.

"Where did you get the gun, huh?" The guy who held me against the wall by the collar asked.

What the fuck do I say? What do I say? I panicked, a nervous sweat breaking out on my hairline. Where's Daryl?

"Where did you get the goddamn gun? There's gotta be more wherever they came from!" He clicked the safety off.

"Uh, I found it. On—on the road. There was just one." I lied horribly.

"He's lying," the guy with the radio sneered.

"Are you alone? Are there others?"

I thought of Daphne and how she had no clue how badly shit just hit the fan. "It's just me." I said quickly.

"I don't believe you, puto. Tell the truth before I blow your goddamn brains out!"

The fence creaked dangerously. I side-glanced, hoping it wouldn't collapse.

"I am," I winced at the harshness of the barrel.

"Glenn?"

Fuck. We all looked at the CB in the dude's hand, my heart dropping to my feet.

"Glenn, can you hear me?"

"Alone, huh?" He pressed his gun even harder and grabbed the radio from his friend. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Glenn, I'm at the store. We missed some things. Are you guys finished?"

Daph, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. Please.

"The store? Y'all found a place that hasn't been ransacked?"

I stayed silent.

"Listen to me, boy. I want you to answer her. No funny business. You understand me?" He curled his finger around the trigger.

"Okay," I gasped, watching as he brought the radio close to my mouth. He pressed the button.

"Daphne?" The first sign I hoped would give her a hint thatsomething was not right. I usually called her Daph. "Daphne, uh, we-we found Hector. Um, but I think he's with Shane."

We didn't even know a Hector. Before the fall or now. But these guys didn't know that.

"What?" She responded.

I made tense eye contact with the gunman.

"The signal must be cutting out. He's with S—Shane."

"Um, okay... can you meet me here? I think there's a good amount of things we can take back."

"Ask her where she's at," the buzzcut demanded.

"You're on the corner of Penn and Seventh, right?" I prayed to any force above that she wasn't a complete idiot.

"No, on the corner of Peachtree and Third. What the fuck is going on?"

I cringed instantly. She is an idiot.

The three men all stared at me blankly.

"I'm geologically challenged?" I winced, hoping he wouldn't shoot.

Keeping the gun pressed to my head, they began to drag me to the opposite end of the alleyway where there was a running car.

"HEY!"

Daryl came running down the alley all of a sudden, crossbow at the ready as he tried to figure out which guy to shoot at.

"Let's go!" The burly dude yelled, slamming the back door open.

Daryl got tackled by one of the smaller guys, a tussle breaking out on the concrete.

Quickly, I was thrown into the car before Daryl could break free. I watched as they willingly left the kid behind, shifting into drive.

"Let's check out this store."

Daphne's POV

I'm scared shitless.

I wasn't afraid to admit it. At least not out loud. I had no idea why I thought this would be the best option, and had less of an understanding why Glenn agreed with me.

At least Rick had the sense to disagree with the plan. Looking back, I should've just listened to him instead of being petty.

Still, I forced myself to hustle, crossing the empty streets of Atlanta with my heart in my throat.

I was alone. At first, it wasn't my preference but I didn't want to drag anyone on my side mission to retrieve our supplies we'd put aside yesterday. I knew exactly where to go and Glenn was the only one who could safely take the rest of the group back to Merle's rooftop.

I almost dropped to my knees in relief once I safely made it into the mini market tucked at the bottom of a large corporate building.

There was bound to be a few dead stragglers. They did invade this building yesterday. Creeping silently, I held my knife up (Rick gave it back to me before I left) and counted my breaths.

At 3, I lunged out behind the first aisle, ready to stab into walker skull.

There was only three and thankfully, they'd been dead for a while now. Slowly limping with flesh barely clinging to the bone. I could see their skeletons staring back at me, wasted away and rotting. Suppressing this morning's breakfast, I made quick work of the first one, stabbing into its head swiftly before the second one set its sights on me.

Its long hair swung as it turned towards the noise, limping at me with a broken leg. I grunted as it tried to grab onto me, forcing me to back away into the aisle, cans of food rolling by my feet.

"Shit," I hissed, its nails scratching the air beside me. I swung my bloody knife into its temple and grabbed one of the cans, chucking it at the last walker.

It smashed into its forehead, a chunk of skin and brittle bone falling off and effectively knocking it to the ground. Quickly, I stomped on the head without thinking, the crunch giving away to brain matter as it died beneath my foot.

I gagged as I pulled my foot out, shaking the slimy stuff off my shoe. After waiting in silence for a minute, I finally moved again. There was no sound but the rushing wind between the skyscrapers.

Fortunately, our pile of stuff was untouched. Piles of diphenhydramine, ibuprofen, antibiotics, vitamins. Packs of non-perishable food items.

I grabbed my CB, simultaneously stuffing all the medicine into my pack. "Glenn? Glenn, can you hear me?"

I was met with staticky silence. Undeterred, I readjusted some knobs.

"Glenn, I'm at the store. We missed some things. Are you guys finished?"

Dread began to fill me the longer I waited for a response.

"Daphne? Daphne, uh, we-we found Hector. Um, but I think he's with Shane."

I let out a sigh of relief before realizing what the fuck he just said.

"What?" I answered, wondering if he was on drugs.

"The—the signal must be cutting out. He's with S-Shane." Glenn's voice sounded distorted, shaky. Why did he sound so nervous?

Something definitely wasn't right. Unless I'm losing my marbles, Shane definitely threw a hissy fit and stayed at camp and we don't know a single person named Hector.

"Um, okay..." I tried to think of what to say. Were we being listened to? "Can you meet me here? I think there's a good amount of things we can take back."

It took a little longer for Glenn to respond this time. I clutched the walkie in confusion.

"You're on the corner of Penn and Seventh, right?"

"No, on the corner of Peachtree and Third. What the fuck is going on?" In hindsight I probably should have went along with what he was saying, but I got fed up and I'm clearly an idiot.

Silence.

"Glenn?"

I looked at the CB, banging it against my thigh but still there was nothing but static. I rolled my eyes, knowing Glenn can handle his own if nothing else. He'd meet me here.

I went back to the aisle where I'd left the corpses, stepping over the mess of guts and brains. I did two rounds, making a nice pile of Chef Boyardee next to the rest of our supplies.

My arms were aching as I looked down at all the stuff proudly.

"Hands up."

I jolted in surprise, feeling the cold barrel of a gun at the base of my neck.

I did as I instructed, heart pounding against my chest. I didn't know what was worse— finding another walker in here or this.

"Turn around slowly. I wanna see those hands."

I tried not to make any sudden movements, not wanting to die at 23.

Standing before me was a man with buzzed hair, tanned skin and a scowl etched on his lips. He stared at me behind his pistol, just as another man came through the broken windows on the other side of the store.

"She gave herself away," the other one snickered, stepping over the walkers and heading toward the pile behind me.

A horrible thought crossed my mind and I was paralyzed in fear of what they'd do to me.

"You play nice and I won't have to pull this trigger, preciosa."

We waited in tense silence as the other guy stuffed all the canned food in a large sack.

"Other guy had a gun. Check her too."

Other guy? They must have Glenn, Rick or T-Dog.

I made the connections in my head as he patted me down for any weapons, taking my trusty knife that was covered in walker blood.

Glenn sounded nervous, not at all his usual self minutes ago. These assholes must've taken him and tracked me through the CB. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Alright, lights out, princess."

Alarmed, I looked up at the gunman before he swung the gun against my temple hard enough to knock me out.

My head was throbbing as I regained consciousness.

"What the fuck just happened?" I groaned, rubbing my temple and trying to adjust my sensitive eyes to the brightness of wherever I found myself.

"Hey, welcome back to the world of the living."

I pushed myself up into a seated position, giving myself whiplash as I spun to look at Glenn.

He was on the ground next to me, looking as roughed up as I felt.

"What happened?" I demanded, bringing him into a quick embrace. At least he was alive. "Where are we?"

We were in a room with four white walls, empty aside from an empty medical cart and a window that was barred up. The floor was surprisingly clean.

"We ran into some guys. They took my gun. I guess their plan is to lure the others so they can steal the rest of them."

"Fuck," I threw my head down into my hands. "I practically baited them over the walkie, huh? Guns and supplies."

"Yeah," sighed Glenn. He looked utterly defeated, staring at the wall with pure regret.

The door suddenly swung open and in came the same guy that knocked me out. Two other guys came in after him.

My muscles tensed.

"Your little friends are here," he sneered at us before turning to one of the dudes. "Hermano, get them tied up."

I knew better than to try to fight back. I'm pretty sure I'm concussed.

Hastily, they put sacks over our heads and tied cloth over our mouths, the world becoming distorted and incredibly itchy on the eyelids. They tied around our hands, hoisting us up and dragging us out.

I tried to gather as much information as I could, listening for any unusual sounds but the men who were dragging us were too damn loud. Talking about a kid named Miguel and 'some hillbilly.'

Daryl.

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified that they were here. God knows how many of them were in this group. How many were loaded with weapons.

A door slammed open ahead of us and suddenly the piercing Atlanta sun beamed onto our bodies, wind whipping my air around. The hand around my arm tightened, halting our walk.

"Oye!" I heard from... below?

I was dragged a few paces before the bag was roughly snatched off my head, a few strands of my hair along with it.

The sun beat mercilessly into my eyes but it wasn't the first thing I noticed.

It was the three story fall that awaited me half a step away.

I gasped against the gag, feeling the man behind me push me forward threateningly. My eyes scanned the scene below.

Daryl and Rick stood in the courtyard, weapons raised, across from a large group of armed men. I found Rick's gaze first, his eyes wide in fear. His grip on the pistol slipped the tiniest bit before his eyes hardened in anger and his lips twisted into a scowl.

He turned back toward who I assumed was the guy behind this entire operation.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and the rest of your arsenal. Everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood."

The leader looked up and I followed his gaze to find T-Dog on one of the rooftops, aiming a long-distance gun at his head.

Rick kept his gun up, his gaze once more flickering between Glenn and I before resting on me.

I wanted to shake my head and tell him to go back to camp. But my captor was holding the back of my head steady.

Our eyes remained locked for what felt like minutes before Daryl began to tug the back of his collar, slowly retreating from the courtyard.

His eyes stayed on mine until they reached the doorway and the doors were promptly shut.

"Alright, the theatrics are over," the guy who held my arm said with a sigh and loosened his grip significantly. I threw him a confused look over my shoulder as he walked me back toward the door, leading me down a staircase and taking us back to our empty room.

"I'm sorry for all the manhandling but we needed to make sure y'all weren't a threat."

Glenn and I both looked up with a startle, the leader of the group was standing in front of us looking genuinely apologetic.

"Nope," I said weakly. "Just mildly concussed."

"And you?" He looked at Glenn.

"Uh, mildly terrified."

The guy laughed and the hairs on my body stood up. It wasn't common to hear something like that nowadays.

"Look, my name is Guillermo, but everyone around here calls me G. We don't wanna hurt you guys."

"Didn't seem that way earlier," I said. "I got smacked in the temple."

"You know how it is. If you've stayed alive this long, you know you gotta protect your own."

I did understand. But I didn't believe we were in the clear here. This is the first group we've encountered since the world went to shit. Who knows what they've done to survive?

"Look, if your friends make the deal or not, you can stay here. You seem like decent people." He said with a shrug. "We need the muscle. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

I shared a glance with Glenn.

We in fact did see what he meant. My throat went dry as he led us out of the room, our hands finally untied. I stuck close to Glenn, keeping a hand wrapped around the bottom of his shirt.

This was a nursing home. Elderly people lived in each room, some in hospital beds, some playing board games with each other, others knitting.

"Are you kidding?" I asked without malice. "You had us thinking you were all some mafia."

"Appearances," Guillermo shrugged. "Hey, Judy. You doing alright?" He asked an older lady as we passed by. She waved at him with an adorable toothless smile.

"I'm hoping we can talk about those weapons you got."

We stopped at the end of the hallway, all three of us facing each other and I made brief eye contact with Glenn. Out of the both of us, I was the better liar.

"Look, what you've seen is what we've got. The guy in the cop uniform brought a small bag of weapons with him from his precinct. A few pistols, a revolver, and a rifle." It wasn't the complete truth but it wasn't a complete lie either. That was what we brought with us on this mission. Everything else was at the camp.

"That's it?" He looked unimpressed. "He didn't grab anything else?"

"It was just him. I guess that was all he could take on him."

"Where were you?"

"He joined us later on. He's from the outskirts of Georgia. He was looking for his family."

"Did he find 'em?"

"No," I lied, not fully trusting this random man. I made it a point to look disappointed, like I felt bad for Rick.

He looked disappointed as well, but likely not for the same reason. I felt a little bad for them. I could see that they weren't bad people, they'd stayed behind to care for the elderly. I could respect that.

"Y'all can make yourselves useful for now. We could use the extra help," he said.

"Uh, sure," Glenn glanced at me. I nodded at him in agreement. "What can we do?"

We ended up on housekeeping duty— checking in on the patients and making sure they weren't missing things like clean towels, soaps, blankets. Anything of that sort. I could tell we weren't being threatened anymore. In fact, the elderly seemed delighted to see us, even more so when they realized I also spoke Spanish like some of them.

My heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, my cheeks aching from how many smiles I'd handed out to all the grandmas and grandpas that greeted us warmly. No one was giving us strange or mean looks, there was not a weapon in sight.

Everything was going smoothly until one of the abuelitas came running down the hall, clutching our wrists and pulling us along with a panicked look.

"Can you help us? Mr Gilbert, he's having trouble breathing! Carlito can't find his asthma stuff!"

"We'll try, ma'am," said Glenn politely. She took us into a large room, people huddled around a hyperventilating man. We rushed over.

"I'm going to find Felipe! He—he knows where the medicine is!" She hobbled off quickly.

She returned in a few minutes, but it seemed like it had been seconds. I'd been distracted looking in every nook and cranny for an inhaler.

Felipe, the asshole that took all our chef boyardee, stood by Mr Gilbert, whipping out an inhaler and bringing it to the elderly man's lips.

Glenn and I gave each other a relieved look.

"What the hell is this?"

My head shot over to the back of the group, finding Rick standing there with a perplexed look. My eyebrows rose in confusion and surprise.

"An asthma attack," Glenn answered, barely sparing him a glance. "Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man," exclaimed T-Dog angrily.

Rick scanned me from head to toe before turning toward Guillermo. I tuned out most of their conversation, walking over to T-Dog and placing a grateful hand on his shoulder.

I knew it couldn't have been easy getting in here. Despite these people being mostly passive, they were still heavily armed. I don't even know why they want any more guns.

I gave Daryl a nod and then walked over to Rick, staying close as he followed Guillermo to the same room they put us in before.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Rick asked.

"The vatos trickle in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too, we need the muscle. The people we've encountered since things fell apart. The worse kind— plunderers. The kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are," said Rick firmly.

"How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage. Appearances."

"I guess the world changed," T-Dog mumbled.

"No, it's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The vatos work on those cars. Talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves so that's just a dream. Still, it keeps the crew busy. That's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut, except for one entrance. The vatos, they go out. Scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. The people here— they all look to me now. I don't even know why."

"Because they can," Rick said, handing Guillermo a rifle and a pistol before turning around and unexpectedly grabbing me by the wrist. I startled, looking up at him in alarm. He didn't even spare me a glance, instead leading me out into the hallway where we encountered Felipe and the other guy that knocked me out.

Just the reminder made me glare at them, rubbing my temple with my free hand. My other hand was hyperaware of Rick's warm grip.

It was silent for a moment as we stared each other down. Then he reached back and the guy who knocked me out handed him my pack. Felipe offered it to me slowly and I took it. In it— the children multivitamins and about half of the medicine we'd scavenged.

None of the cans of food though.

"Fine, keep all the chef boyardees," I grumbled, instantly annoyed once again.

"Oye, yo no te crié así!" Felipe's grandmother cried, appearing all of a sudden to give him a solid whack in the side. "En mi hogar se..."

The man gave her a halfhearted glare, rubbing his ribs tenderly.

She raised her little wrinkly hand again.

"Se comparte," he said quickly with a sigh as he took the small plastic bag she was holding. I could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked back at his abuela.

"Thanks," Rick said, his grip on my wrist tightening ever so slightly as he leaned forward to grab a few cans. He shoved them into my bag.

"Alright, well this was cool but I'd rather we go now," I quietly told Rick, leaning up on my toes to get closer.

"Yeah, yeah," he finally looked at me now. His eyes dropped to our hands as if he hadn't realized he'd been holding on the whole time. Slowly, he dropped my arm, looking back up into my eyes. My breath hitched in my throat, cheeks burning slightly as I looked at his pale blue eyes. I'd never been this close to him other than the hug he'd given me yesterday.

"I'm glad you're okay," he told me as we let the rest of the group lead us out, falling to the back easily. There was this underlying need for privacy, as if our conversation was sort of intimate.

"Thanks for coming back for us," I told him with a serious look. "You could've just gone back to camp but you stayed."

Rick gave me an incredulous look. "Like I'd leave you."

We weren't anything to each other. We weren't even friends. Just former coworkers. But the way he said that made my heart flip in my chest.

Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid crush. I felt like a giddy teenager.

Feeling a little brave, I placed a hand on his forearm. "Thank you," I looked him in the eyes, trying to convey just how grateful I was.

Maybe Guillermo would've let us go with or without Rick's interference but without any weapons or a vehicle, there was little chance we'd have made it back to camp alive.

I couldn't stay here and leave Shane, Lori or Carl behind. Even if Glenn was with me because I knew he felt the same. We'd all grown to care about each other, despite how many times I deny it. Glenn isn't the only important person in my life anymore.

We were all, like it or not, a family now.

"You don't have to thank me, ever." He grabbed a pistol tucked into the back of his belt loop and offered it to me smoothly.

I eyed it and then accepted with a small smile. "Tha—"

I cut myself off as Rick rose his eyebrows. His previous words repeated in my head.

"Sorry," I whispered, pocketing the gun with a wider smile and taking my hand off his arm.

Both smiling like blithering idiots, we rushed to catch up with the rest of the crew, heading back to reality.

"Hey, wait," I said loudly as we walked outside. "Where the fuck is Merle?"

taglist: @lovelyygirl8 @aleemendoza2425-blog @catlalice @ho3forchr1sevans

i wrote a little rick pov for chapter six if you'd like to check it out :)

#the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #twd #glenn rhee #rick grimes x daphne ayala #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x original female character #the walking dead fanfic #rick grimes #shane walsh x original female character #daphne ayala #the walking dead x reader #original female character twd #twd fanfic #twd rick #shane walsh

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smilemotherf0cer · 1 year

Text

Finally

!Teen Carl x !teen reader

Fluff

Best friends to lovers

Working as the nurse in Alexandria wasn’t that bad, all I did was make sure our supplies were good and take care of hurt people. I hear a knock, I turn around and see michonne smiling over at me. “Hey do you have any more of these?” She asks as she raises and empty pill bottle at me, I smile at her and nod “yeah!” I reach into my cabinet and grab the antibiotics and hand it to her “see you tomorrow!” I nod at she leaves. The rest of the day is boring. I see the sun setting through the window so I pack up my supplies and lock the door as I leave into the streets of Alexandria. I walk around enjoying the scenery, ever since the apocalypse happened I never really had time to enjoy my time here. I was apart of a small group just out of Atlanta, my group has been through so much together. I zone out thinking about how much I love it here when I hear a familiar voice “y/n! Where have you been loca!?” The tall brunette asks as he does the run thing towards me. “Mr grimes,” I say pretending to take my imaginary hat off and tip it to him. He pulls me into a hug and I hug back, I have been friends with Carl since the quarry when we were seven. We’ve moved from place to place searching for a good spot to live in. Now that we were 16 in the perfect utopia me and Carl have gotten closer. Usually when I’m not at work and he isn’t busy with Judith, me and Carl are hanging out together. Literally doing anything. “But seriously where have you been y/n?” I smile at the teen “I had to work today!” He nods “well I’ve been looking for you!” I furrow my eyebrows as a question “I asked enid out!” I’m not sure why but my heart sinks a little “oh!” I say. He nods excited “um good for you?” I say with a small laugh “you mad or something!” He jokes around, I roll my eyes and turn and walk away “so you are mad! I never knew y/n l/n would be jealous over poor little me!” He says following me. I roll my eyes “I’m not jealous over you Carl! You’re literally my best friend!” I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a thing for Carl grimes, who wouldn’t have a thing for him. He is handsome, sweet, funny, literally the perfect person. But I couldn’t admit it to him. “Have fun with Enid! Tell me about it after!” I gave him a weak smile and walk away from him, the next day I wake up and go to work. The day is slow, nothing really happens. Haven’t heard from Carl yet. If I’m being honest I don’t wanna hear how his super awesome date went with super hot Enid. My heart aches at the thought of them together, I guess I did have a crush on the one and only Carl grimes. Soon enough the sunlight fades into moonlight and still not one word from Carl, usually he would come and check up on me during my work day but no. Slowly I walk back to my house, when I walk in I hear slow footsteps. I reach for my gun which Daryl makes me carry around, I walk up the stairs and slowly open my bedroom door and see Carl sitting on my bed and reading one of my books “Jesus Christ carl!” I say putting my gun down “you scared the living hell out of me!” He laughs “well I couldn’t go see you today so might as well see you tonight!” I furrow my eyebrows “let me tell you all about my amazing date with Enid!” He starts rambling on breaking my heart with every word, “OMG WILL YOU SHUT IP ABOUT ENID!?” I snap he looks at me with a confused look “look I don’t care about Enid! How have you not noticed!? Jesus Christ you must be fucking stupid!” He looks hurt by my words “y/n what?-“ I cut him off by pressing my lips against his. I pull back and immediately say “shit I’m so sorry I didn’t-“ I was cut off by him kissing me “finally! All I had to do was go on a date with Enid for you to admit you like me?” He laughs and I smack his shoulder before kissing him again.

#Carl grimes x reader #twd carl #best friends

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megggyeggy · 2 years

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A/N: Hi everyone, so this is my first TWD fan fiction. This will be 18+ so minors DNI. There is cussing in this chapter because it’s Negan. So don’t say I didn’t warn you lol. I didn’t proof read, so if there are any mistakes or if you have any suggestions I’m all ears. This is gonna be interesting. My OC is a close friend of Daryl’s. They are almost inseparable.

The End Of Today

Tylee rode down a leaf covered path, her black and white horses' hooves clicking against the gravel. She held her shotgun close to her hip as she rode, humming to herself softly a song that her mother would sing to her when she brushed the knots out of her hair. “You are my sunshine…my only sunshine..you make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.” Tylee sang as they walked until she saw the familiar gates of her home. She smiled to herself as she approached the gates, tilting her head to the side before dismounting her horse. She held the reins in her grasp as she knocked on the metal doors.

She hadn’t been home in months, not since they met the new community called Hilltop. She had left for a while to go search for supplies, when she did leave on big supply runs she was usually gone for months. But she never had someone go with her, she just needed her and her horse. It was easier that way, rather than trying to make sure someone wasn’t getting into trouble. She watched as the metal door slid open slowly. Smiling at Rick who had opened the door and she watched as his brows furrowed and how he tilted his head to the side like he always did.

“Rick.” She greeted as she began to guide her horse inside the community, Rick smiled a ghost of a smile as he closed the gates behind Tylee. “Tylee..I..I thought-” She tilted her head curiously with a small grin on her face as she licked her lips. “That I was dead? C’mon now, Rick..you really think it’s that easy to get rid of me?” She teased with a small grin on her face, biting her lower lip faintly while Rick let out a weak chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. “Uh..No no..um..I- You’ve just been gone for a while..we were all worried.” Rick answered to which Tylee snickered out softly.

“I’m touched. Hey, where’s Daryl? I wanted to see him.” She spoke softly with a small grin, while Rick cleared his throat for a moment as he stared at her with a heartbroken expression. “Um..I-..Daryl..” He took a deep breath while Tylee’s quickly disappeared as she stared at him with a worried look upon her face. “Rick-..Where’s Dary?” She questioned, her voice shaky and uneven. Rick stared at her with worried eyes before clearing his throat again as he took a deep breath, “It’s..It’s a long story..” Tylee had tears threatening to spill as she spoke through gritted teeth, “Then make it a short story, Rick! Where the fuck is Daryl??” Tylee growled slowly with a small glare, she wasn’t mad at him. She was simply just scared.

Rick swallowed thickly as he took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face stressfully with his own tears threatening to spill. “I-..Do you remember the group that we ran into..a while back? The Hilltop? How they were warning us about..a community- that called themselves The Saviors-” “Yes, Rick! Please-..please just get to the part about Daryl, please..” She spoke just above a whisper as she held onto her horse’s reins tightly, sniffling softly as she wiped her nose. “They took him..” Said Rick as he placed his hands on his hips while looking at her with a troubled expression.

Tylee ran her fingers through her hair as she stared at Rick with furrowed brows, opening her mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. She swallowed dryly as a tear ran down her dirt covered cheek as she stared at Rick, she took a deep breath as she shook her head. A whimper escaped her throat as sniffled, “Where-..Where did they take him?” She whispered softly while Rick shook his head, looking down with a distressed expression. “I-..I don’t know..They took him with them..They killed Glenn and Abraham.” His voice broke as he spoke to which Tylee let out a sob, a hand slapping over her mouth as she turned to face her horse.

“Fuck!” Tylee whispered softly as she sniffled, her lower lip trembling as she whimpered softly as she closed her eyes tightly. “Oh my god.” Tylee sniffled as she took a deep breath, trying to ground herself. “Okay, okay…So..So..We just need to find him..Right? We just need to find him..We will find him and- and..it’ll be okay..We’ve been through this type of thing before, right?-” Tylee began to ramble as she began to pace back and forth. Rick frowned as he dropped his head, letting out a shaky breath. Tears of his own escaping as he shook his head quietly. “No. No, Tylee..this isn’t-..there is no way around this..they-..they own Alexandria. Okay? We follow their rules.” Tylee looked at Rick with a look of betrayal as her brows pinched together, her mouth gaped open in shock. “What?” Rick swallowed thickly as he shook his head quietly, “We’ve lost too much..They win, we lose. It’s that simple..We play by their rules and everyone will be safe- but if anyone steps out of line- more people will die, Tylee.” Rick spoke softly while Tylee stared at him with teary eyes, swallowing thickly as she shook her head with a soft whimper.

“I-..I can’t just..What about Daryl?” She questioned, her voice cracking from the pain she was feeling. Rick shrugged his left shoulder as he cleared his throat, “Daryl is fine...he will be fine.” He tried to reassure her but not even he believed it himself. Tylee opened her mouth to speak up only to hear someone else pounding on the gates. Rick stared at Tylee with a look that said, ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ Before he turned and quietly made his way to the gates, sliding them open to reveal a man with a salt and peppered beard and hair. “Hello, Prick.” Negan greeted with a toothy grin, licking his lips before taking a step into the community as he took in the breath of fresh air. The man looked over his shoulder with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get what we came for and get the hell out of here.”

The men surrounding Negan had begun to march their way inside of Alexandria with guns, while the leader had stayed behind with Rick. “Did you find some more of MY supplies?” The man questioned with a wide grin, one that never seemed to fade. “We got more supplies. Didn’t find much but..” Rick trailed off as he looked behind Negan with a certain look upon his face before his eyes trailed to Tylee. To which Negan’s eyes had followed, an even wider grin spreading across his features. “Who the hell is this? I don’t believe we have met. Prick, are you gonna be rude or are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?” Negan suggested with a snicker while Rick wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“That’s Tylee..She left for a supply run a few months ago..” Rick spoke softly, watching as Negan began to approach the woman with a toothy grin. Looking at her horse who had large bags tied to the sides of the saddle. He whistled with an amused expression, tilting his head to the side. “So, I take it you have weapons on you, huh? I know you may not know this, considering you haven’t been here when we arrived..but uh..whatever shit you found while you were out gallivanting, well- it’s ours. The weapons, ours.” Tylee stared at Negan with narrowed eyes, her jaw clenching and shifting as she took a deep breath. She looked past Negan and to Rick who gave a weak nod while keeping his eyes locked on the ground. She took a deep breath before rolling her glazed over eyes as she pulled her shotgun off of her horse's saddle and shoved it into Negan’s hand. As well as her knife that was in her boot, the pistol that was in her hip holster.

Negan snickered out softly with a wide grin as his eyes trailed over her with an amused expression, “Well shit, who the hell shit in your cereal this morning?” Negan teased with a wide grin on his face while Tylee glared up at him with narrowed eyes, shifting her jaw before grabbing her horse by the reins and beginning to guide it to the stables. Negan hummed as he looked back at Rick with a shit eating grin, “Wow. A fireball, eh?” He purred out with a teasing grin on his face. Rick simply didn’t respond. Tylee however, spared a glance back to the men only to see Daryl to which her heart dropped to her stomach. She froze as she stared at Daryl, she knew he had seen her as well. She could tell by the way his hardened eyes had softened. “Daryl..” She whispered softly under her breath as she swallowed thickly, looking down at her boots with teary eyes.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

The End Of Today.

#negan smith #negan smut #rick grimes #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x oc #rick grimes x oc #negan x oc #the walking dead #original female character #18+ minors dni #oc #angst with a happy ending

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eggcompany · 5 months

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The Knees Creak Part 2

Frank kept to his word. Two days float by, Daryl gets his hands on Frank's cock when he got out of the shower and Frank smiled and told him he’d pay him back.

Daryl was playing on his Switch again after one overly stressful day at work. He was in a shitty mood and just wanted dinner and a beer and to go to bed.

“Hey beautiful~ wanna get a pizza for dinner?” Frank asked as he walked over to kiss his frumpy partner. Daryl grumbled a noncommittal response.

“Alright grumble-bumble I’ll call it in.” Frank said and kissed Daryl’s cheek and went to the landline to call the pizza place nearby. Some good ole greasy cheese and meat would at least make the other man less grumpy because he was hungry.

Frank was used to Daryl’s shitty moods and grumpiness, it was just a part of who Daryl was. He wouldn’t bother him too much but he needed a check in just to make sure Daryl wasn’t really struggling and to let Daryl know Frank was there for him.

Once Frank had returned to the couch where Daryl was hunched over, he just sighed and relaxed into the fabric. Their couch wasn’t all that big so when Frank relaxed and let his knees spread apart, they met Daryl’s own stiff ones.

Daryl huffed and scooted away from Frank. He had a pout painted on his face, all scrunched eyebrows and unmanageable scruff.

Frank just looked over at him lovingly. It was easy to love Daryl. He was like a kicked puppy, but most people who really knew Frank said that about him. Maybe Daryl was more like a hosed cat, jumpy and grumpy. Frank smiled a bit at that thought, Daryl being a scraggly old alley cat, and himself being a beat ole dog. They were so… similar but different. Maybe that’s why they fit so well together.

“Had a bad day at work.” Daryl said after a while of Frank staring at him.

“Yeah? What’d make you feel better?” Frank asked and scooted over so he could wrap his arm around Daryl’s shoulders. Daryl just shrugged and kept playing his game. He didn’t want Frank to pull his arm away, he wanted to just be close to Frank. The shorter haired man was like balm on a burn most days. Just gentle love and nice big warms to wrap up in.

“Pizza, a beer, your game…” Frank listed out and moved his hand to stroke up and down Daryl’s back who just shrugged, he did relax a bit though.

That did sound like it would help. Frank just patting his back and being there but being quiet sounded nice. Just playing his game and getting a full stomach would make him feel better and a beer would make him more relaxed. Daryl just shrugged but nodded a little bit with it.

Frank looked at him and dug his fingers into the tense muscles of Daryl’s upper back a bit, rubbing at the spot that was always tense between his shoulders.

“Yeah? How ‘bout I pay you back from the other day? Huh what goes better with beer and pizza than a lil TLC…” Frank said and moved to massage at Daryl’s upper thigh. He always waited for a go ahead. Usually the yes bit was the best part, hearing someone say they want him.

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat and his face started heating up.

“Um… if you… if you wanna, that would be okay.” Daryl said and kept his eyes on his game even though he paused it and felt his face burning up. The feeling of Frank's warm palm rubbing so tenderly at his sensitive thighs made him want to whine but that was… no that was no.

“We got a little time before the food gets here. I’ll try and make it good for you baby.” Frank said and leaned over to kiss Daryl’s neck and massage at his speedily hardening cock through his pajama pants which Daryl threw on as soon as he got in the door.

Soon Frank was sucking hickies up and down Daryl’s neck, paying attention to the special little spot behind his ear. Frank liked the way Daryl’s hair usually covered his ears and neck. Daryl’s ears and neck were always so sensitive, always made him whine and shove Frank away.

Daryl was huffing and sighing with pleasure by the time Frank slid off the couch to kneel on the floor.

“Poor baby havin a bad day… hate when people are bad to you honey.” Frank said and rubbed his hands up and down the outsides of the other man’s thighs. Daryl let his head fall back and put his game on the side table to grab at the couch fabric. Frank just rubbed his hands up and down on Daryl’s thighs, just getting him warmed up and more comfortable.

“Can you scoot forward a little for me baby? Lemme get these cute lil pants outta my way.” Frank said and put his hands on Daryl’s hips and pulled him forward when Daryl nodded. Daryl looked down and watched Frank’s hands, his face. Frank always had this look of… adoration. Something deep and feeling in big puppy dog eyes. It made Daryl feel safer.

Frank gently pulled the fuzzy green fabric down so Daryl’s cock could pop out. Daryl gasped brokenly and grabbed the fabric under his hands.

“Yeah that’s pretty.” Frank said more to himself than Daryl as he gave Daryl a few good slow strokes. Daryl whined and bit into his bottom lip. Frank had… very nice hands. Callused and big and strong and they felt really good wrapped around him moving from base to tip like t hat .

“Frank, fuck Frankie, that fuckin feels nice” Daryl groaned and moved to grab at the fabric on this thighs. He tried not to whine or cry out but just ended up panting and letting out more little “ ah ah ah” s.

“That’s good baby. That’s good. I wanna hear all them sounds. Lemme hear ya darlin” Frank grumbled and leaned forward to kiss at the crown of Daryl’s cock.

Daryl cried out loudly and his knees rose up a bit so his feet were on their tiptoes on the floor. His brain felt like it was melting, it had been… forever since someone had done this for him. No one had done it when he was sober. Ever.

“That’s it. Now really gimme somethin.” Frank said with a smug little grin as he moved to suck on Daryl’s tip.

Daryl wasn’t really particularly vocal. He just let out whimpers and whined and short “fuck Frankie”s. He grabbed at Frank's hair and his knees bucked up until Frank pulled them to sit on his shoulders. Daryl’s thighs weren’t as plush or as thick as Frank’s but they were just as warm as they pressed tightly on the sides of Frank’s head.

When Daryl cums it’s in Frank's mouth and down his throat. Daryl’s a mess. Panting, sweaty, with tears steaks down his face. He looks down to see Frank thumbing some of his spilled cum into his mouth and swallows, his cock gives a valiant twitch.

Frank gave the softening tip and kiss and pulled Daryl’s pants back up and tucked him away with a smile.

“That was wonderful, baby. Thank you. So pretty, so fuckin pretty.” Frank said. He grunted when he stood back up, knees cracking. He flopped onto the couch next to the still dazed man.

“Felt really good Frankie wanna make you do it too…” Daryl slurred and reached over to palm sloppily at Frank's hard cock still trapped in his work jeans.

“Quick though babe. Foods gonna be here soon.” Frank said and Daryl just shoved his hand down Frank's jeans as Frank unzipped and unbuttoned them. Frank just groaned and grunted as Daryl sloppily jerked him off.

Frank was blissfully smiling and kissing Daryl as he held his hand out which was covered in thick heavy cum. The doorbell rang and Frank just pulled his pants the rest of the way off so he was in his boxer briefs, socks and his t-shirt.

He got their food and set it on their bar.

“Can I have a rag?” Daryl called out to Frank as he eyed the jizz on his hand. Frank handed him a damp rag. He wasn’t really ready to put… that… in his mouth yet.

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

“Frankie… can I…?” Daryl asked sort of as he knelt down beside Frank as he yawned and scratched his side.

“Hmm? What!” Frank said slurrdly and looked down at Daryl’s fire truck red face. Daryl just hid his face in Frank's bare knee and kissed it. The short haired man petted through Daryl’s brushed hair and hummed.

“What’d you want, baby? Ya hair’s brushed, honey.” Frank asked and kept combing through Daryl’s soft hair. Usually when Daryl was low or struggling with something in his mind, he’d ask Frank to brush his hair or hold him. But his hair was brushed. And he wasn’t shoving himself into Frank's lap.

“Wanna um… want…” Daryl struggled with as he shakily moved his hand to lay on Frank’s thigh near his morning wood. Frank caught on and smiled and scratched at Daryl’s head around his ears like he likes.

“Go ‘head, baby” Frank said and pulled his boxer briefs down. Daryl swallowed and just reached up to stroke at the large cock in front of him.

“Frank, I wanna do what you did…” Daryl mumbled and gave Frank another long stroke, squeezing a bit tighter at the tip. The other man yawned and leaned over himself to kiss Daryl’s head.

“Only gotta do what you want. Don’t gotta do it how I did it. Wanna make me feel good? Anything you did gonna make me feel good baby, looking so damn pretty down there.” Frank encouraged and Daryl relaxed. This was Frank. Frank who had waited months to even make out with him. Who always apologized and never did anything to make Daryl uncomfortable.

Daryl just gave him a few more strokes before leaning forward and kissing right on the crown of Frank's dick. Frank sighed and petted lightly at Daryl’s hair and used his other hand to lean back on the bed.

Daryl just took his time stroking and kissing up and down Frank's cock, which drooled out warm precum and Daryl used it to slick the slide of his hand. He didn’t want to get any in his mouth uit once the slightly tangy taste was on his lips he figured… he didn’t quite mind.

“That’s it baby, that’s so nice. Squeeze a little tighter- there it is. Feels so good.” Frank groaned out and let out some deep rolling sighs of pleasure. Daryl’s lips on his cock felt nice and the grip on him felt really good.

Daryl kept kissing but pulled back when Frank started grunting and getting louder. He stared at the ruby red tip and swallowed. This was okay. If it was too hard he could stop. Frank wouldn’t let him hurt himself.

Daryl leaned forward and opened his mouth wide, hiding away his teeth, and sucked the tip into his mouth.

“Oh fuck yeah that’s it baby, such a good boy. Good boy, good.” Frank moaned out and grabbed lightly at Daryl’s hair.

Daryl just sucked and pulled away and quickened his strokes. He thought back to what felt good when Frank did it to him and he leaned back in to suck at Frank's tip and lick across the slit.

“Daryl, baby, ‘m gonna cum. You ain’t gonna want it in your mouth.” Frank's warned and pulled at Daryl’s hair a bit. Daryl ignored him as the taste in his mouth was sort of nice. Sort of bitter. Plus Frank had put his cum in his mouth.

Frank flipped back so he was laying on the bed as he used both hands to grab onto Daryl’s hair.

“Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, Cmon now.” Frank warned again and pulled at Daryl’s hair but Daryl just licked around Frank's tip and stroked him faster.

Daryl finally pulled back and Frank groaned and cam, splattering his spend all over Daryl’s face and in his hair.

Frank panted and relaxed against the bed. Best way to wake up.

Daryl opened his legs to sit down on his butt and put his feet in front of him. He could feel the hot spend on him and it made him feel… pretty. It was sticky and heavy on his eyelashes and he could feel it stuck to his scruff. It was gross, definitely gross, but it was… it was proof he was good enough to make Frank feel good.

Frank sat up with a groan and looked down at Daryl.

“That’s fucking somethin” he said and kept leaning forward till he could close his lips to Daryl’s, unbothered. Daryl just looked at him in awe because… he literally just had his dick in his mouth.

“Prettier than a god damn picture baby. Thank you.” Frank said and stared at Daryl, really making Daryl understand how perfect he looked. He couldn’t help but to kiss Daryl again.

Daryl smiled and looked down and his hair fell into his face, it was clumping a bit in places where the cum was wetting it.

“You’re gross.” Daryl mumbled and looked back at Frank. The cum was cooling on his face and he was starting to get an itchy feeling in his scruff.

Frank smiled and kissed him again, pulling him up by the armpits to stand. Frank liked being able to carry Daryl, made him feel strong and just fulfilled in a way.

“Maybe but that was damn amazing and you look so beautiful.” Frank said and pulled Daryl against him to kiss him deeply again.

“I need to wash my face. Kinda feels gross.” Daryl grumbled with a shy smile and moved to stand and go to their small bathroom.

Frank kissed his cheek and nodded.

“I need to get a shower and brush my teeth too. Don’t mind sharin do ya?” Frank asked and followed Daryl to the bathroom once he pulled his underwear back up and tucked his dick half-assedly into them. He was waiting for an answer outside of the door.

“I already got a shower. Go ‘head” Daryl said pink faced and refusing to look and Frank's grin.

Frank passed him and kissed his cheek again. He stripped down and stretched his arms high above his head and groaned which drew Daryl’s eyes over to him for a moment before he rushed out of the bathroom. Too many things to take in without staring at Frank’s thick plush ass.

When Frank walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel around his hips and saw Daryl putting on his jacket, he just walked over and wrapped his arms around Daryl from behind.

“I love ya, baby.” Frank said and kissed Daryl’s cheek and squeezed him. Daryl squeezed back on Frank’s arms with his own.

“Love you too Frankie."

#egg_company #fanfic #smut tag #fanfiction #frank castle #the punisher #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Don't Go Where I Can't Find You

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 (during six year time jump) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, grinding, sideways sex?? (idk what it's called lol), gentle sex (I think?), unprotected sex (DON'T TRY IT AT HOME), straight (?) people sex, swearing, angst ❧ Word Count: 9.5k

❧ Prompt: "Did you ever even love me?" from the Norman Reedus Whores Discord Prompt Challenge (more info here)

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't been the same since losing Rick, and though he loves you, he needs to do what he thinks is right: try to find his friend, bring back his body, or die trying. Six months apart is too much to handle, he soon realizes, and something is calling him back home.

❧ A/N: Hiiii how y'all doin... um so like I tried to do angst, smut, and fluff all in one??? And I also tried to knock out several requests in one fell swoop. So I have sort of a bastardization of what @shariiina requested (tho they asked for a big fight and makeup sex which I don't think I quite nailed but I will definitely try do that more accurately in the future), as well as some anon requests for soft/gentle sex and also reader crying during sex. I was ALSO trying to fit in the prompt from my prompt challenge thingy that my Discord group is doing lol so there's a lot happening here. I just hope it turned out ok! I think this is a pretty sweet little story with a steamy lovemaking scene and a pinch of angst. Some cute/funny moments as well I think.

You weren’t there when the bridge fell, but you heard it, and you felt the ashes from the fire as they drifted over your face.

Daryl had shifted past you, not answering you as you asked what was going on. He had that thousand yard stare you’d seen before. You’d seen it when he lost Merle… When he lost Beth… When he lost Denise…

When you grabbed his face with your hands to look him in the eye, asking what on Earth had happened as tears drowned out his vision, you knew what happened. Context clues gave it away, and the ache in Michonne’s wailing as she emerged from behind Daryl, Maggie and Carol supporting her limp, writhing body.

In your bewilderment, you felt Daryl jerk himself from your grasp, retreating somewhere inside himself you couldn’t reach, somewhere you couldn’t follow. His grief was hostile territory for you, though his heart had become a world of comfort and familiarity the past few years.

This excursion was far more intense than what you’d seen from him before, though. Death was a fixture of everyday life for you and everyone else you knew, but Rick’s death was unprecedented. Nothing could compare to the grief in its wake, especially not for Daryl.

For as long as you could, you left him alone. The only reminder of his presence after that was the feeling of his body weight dipping on the other side of your bed. You were surprised he even tried to sleep next to you, but it was the one thing reminding you that he was there.

Only in the morning he’d be gone, a cool, silken expanse of olive green sheets where once his body lay, sprawled out with open arms trapping you so close to his chest for hours on end, until whatever responsibility he had took him away from you.

Now he seemed to leave on his own accord, you supposed. You weren’t sure where he’d gone during the day, but it wasn’t for lack of looking. You found yourself wandering the streets of Alexandria sometimes, in the back of your mind trying to locate a man who didn’t want to be found, but maybe he wanted you to look for him, you thought. You loved him enough to never stop looking.

Each night he slept less and less. After a while, you weren’t sure if the nights were getting colder from the changing season, or if the warmth of his body you usually relied on was getting further from you. One thing you were sure of—autumn was fading into winter, and for the first time since you found yourself in his arms, you were cold.

One morning when you woke up, you were sure he hadn’t been to bed at all the night before. His musky scent of pine and tobacco still lingered, but it was gradually becoming more faint, and your home was becoming a shell, all because he wasn’t in it.

“Daryl,” you mumbled against your pillow, then flipped over in a half-sleep state to face him where he’d be if he were there. After a month of not waking up next to him, you would’ve thought you’d grow used to it by now. You’d never get used to it, not when waking up next to him was all you had to look forward to.

The haze of sleep still deluding you, you reached out to touch him, the empty space of him. Where are you? you heard your inner voice speak. Daryl… come home.

Your eyes fluttered open with reluctance to see he wasn’t there. Again.

But you heard him moving downstairs, that creaking of the old floorboards underneath his feet. You felt his presence when you were awake enough to feel anything. He was home, and that was enough to get you out of bed that morning.

“Daryl?” you called out to him softly, voice still groggy from sleep. Your bare feet were cold against the hardwood floor as you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, where you saw Daryl’s worn grey backpack sat upon the couch, next to his crossbow.

“Daryl, are you here?”

Approaching footsteps from the kitchen preceded his appearance. He emerged with a few cans of green beans, and a tired, sleepless look upon his face.

You sighed in relief, happy that he was home instead of wherever he went to be alone. Your smile faded when you realized how exhausted he looked, and how red the whites of his eyes were.

You hadn’t been able to touch him in weeks, so when you took the cans out of his hands to place them on a nearby table, he seemed almost startled by your movement.

“You need sleep,” you said, tentatively coming closer and closer until you could rest your hands on his chest, gently moving them up and down against the scratchy fabric of his wool poncho. “Let’s lay down. You’re exhausted.”

His tenseness seemed to loosen under your touch, but his glassy eyes portrayed a different story. Something was off, something more than just grief.

“Sweetheart,” you said, while raising a hand to pin the unruly hairs behind his ears, “what’s wrong?”

He huffed, then removed your hands before turning to pick up the cans. “I’m leavin’,” he grumbled, his back turned towards you.

He moved to the couch to stuff the canned beans inside his pack, then zipped and buckled it tight. Next, he turned to the hallway, retrieving his quiver of bolts he usually used on trips outside the walls.

You didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t have any reason to go out there. As far as you were concerned, his mental health needed to recover from the loss of his best friend, his brother, before he could even think about going out there. Still, maybe it was what he needed, and maybe when he’d come back in a few days like he always did, he’d be more like himself. Maybe it was what he needed to heal.

“When will you be back?” you asked, as you always did.

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze, but not before he made incidental eye contact with you. You looked so innocent, so unaware of what he had planned. He couldn’t hide from it now. Weeks of milling over it in his addled brain had finally accumulated to this moment—telling you, the person he loved more than anything, that he didn’t know when he was coming back. He wasn’t even entirely sure where he was going.

“I was going to make that casserole you like for dinner,” you added. It was better than the silence. “But I’ll wait till you get back. Unless you’re coming back tonight?”

He shook his head. “Don’t wait for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” you said, with a soft laugh under your breath. “Just tell me when and I’ll save it for when you come home.”

He went silent again, opting to arm himself with his various knives and utility belts instead of answering you.

It wasn’t like him at all to ignore you, to avoid your touch, to avert his gaze. Maybe when you first met him three or four years ago, but not now. Not after two years of the greatest kind of intimacy two people could share with one another.

You tested the waters, coming closer to touch him and see if he’d recoil again. Your hands held his, disrupting him from looping his belt. A small smile spread across your face, and though part of it was forced, all of it was born out of love for him. He’d told you before that your smile could fix everything for him, so you hoped he meant it.

“Hey,” you said. “I love you, Tarzan.”

The corner of his lip quirked ever so slightly, but something held him back from returning your smile, even if you called him that little moniker you gave him years ago, to reflect the “wild man” he seemed to be. He always felt more at home in the wilderness, it seemed.

What you expected was for him to return the sentiment, to call you “Jane” as he usually did. He only chewed his bottom lip, and watched your hands as they fit perfectly in his.

He only shook his head, a gesture so foreign to you in this circumstance. He should’ve smiled, held your hands tighter, kiss you… Not loosen himself from your grasp, not take his undying warmth away as he stepped backwards, away from you.

Of course, it was hard to react that way. It wasn’t his instinct, and a part of you knew it, but it still hurt. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, or to do what he was about to do, but he had to. At least, he convinced himself that he had to.

“I’m goin’ away,” he said.

“I know.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m goin’ away, and I ain’t comin’ back till I find Rick.”

You stepped back subconsciously, so much so that you couldn’t feel the back of your legs hit the couch. Gravity forced you to sit on the edge, somewhere between disbelief and confusion. None of those words made any sense together, in that order in which he spoke them. It must’ve been an illusion, some trick of the mind orchestrated by the debilitating loneliness that had settled in your heart. To make matters worse, you feared this was just the beginning.

You tried to make sense of it, in a way that allowed the sense of it to become something else—something you could grasp. “Rick’s gone,” you said quietly. “How are you going to find him if he’s gone?”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t know the answer to that himself. He truly didn’t. “I’m gonna find him, dead or alive.”

“Alive?” you asked in bewilderment. “You… You think he’s alive?”

“Never found a body… Blast of the explosion coulda blown him somewhere nearby.”

“Daryl,” you said, “that’s…” Your words failed you then, as they often did when emotions took over. You couldn’t help it—you loved him, and Daryl never lied. If he said he wasn’t coming back, he wasn’t coming back. “You can’t leave.”

“I gotta.”

The lump in your throat was becoming impossible to swallow, and tried as you might, you couldn’t keep your voice from cracking under the pressure. Tears would soon follow, you were certain of it. Still, you were trying to delude yourself, to interpret Daryl’s straightforward words into something that didn’t tear you apart from the inside out.

“But you’ll be back soon,” you said, looking up at him with much more than just a hint of vulnerability in your face. “You’ll come back, even if you can’t find him?”

He lowered his head in silence, then finally replied: “I dunno.”

Your legs lifted you up to full height, a sudden burst of impatient energy seething through you.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I don’t know, (Y/N).”

You shook your head in bewilderment. “You can’t just leave. I mean, I understand you want to find him but… You can’t leave.”

He huffed through abnormally flared nostrils, indicating that he, too, was losing his patience. It wasn’t pure anger, though, in fact there was very little anger inside of him—it was more like dread, sorrow for the pain he would continue you putting you (and himself) through as he tried to justify his reasons for needing to leave, even though he couldn’t really think of any justifiable reason. It was irrational, impulsive, dangerous, inconsiderate… Most of all, he just wanted to get it over with; to rip off the bandage and try his best to ignore the sting.

“I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” he said, in that low, extra gravelly voice that told you he was close to a breaking point. “It’s settled.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak, with nothing but a barely audible whimper falling and fading into thin air. Your tears inevitably broke out, but they were muffled as you tried to maintain composure. You weren’t sure why—Daryl had seen you cry countless times, but this time was different. Maybe Daryl was leaving you because you cried so much, because you cared so much. You feared he found you pathetic or overbearing, maybe even annoying.

Of course, no such thing was true, but irrational fears born of insecurity and self-doubt got the better of you. The strain in your face was evident.

“I, uh, I don’t wanna leave,” he said.

“Then don’t!” you suddenly exclaimed, voice weak and faltering. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, then stepped forward tentatively as you approached him. “Or… let me go with you.”

“Nah,” he said quickly. “No way. You gotta stay here where it’s safe.”

“Daryl… I—I can’t. I need you. I love you… How could you say you’re leaving? Doesn’t what we have mean anything to you?”

You hated to ask him that, and you never would’ve unless you weren’t genuinely afraid he felt nothing for you anymore. Of course, it wasn’t that at all—it was the grief that overwhelmed him, called him to take Rick’s disappearance on his already burdened shoulders. In a sense, it had nothing to do with you, but you were the one who was going to suffer. You were the one who’d be left behind.

“You know it does,” he replied, this time voice much more firm and loud, as though he couldn’t even risk the thought of you not knowing that for sure. “This ain’t easy for me, but it’s eating me up inside. I at least gotta try.”

“Then let me help,” you begged, and somehow you’d gotten close enough to take his hands in yours. If you got desperate enough, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself down on both knees before him. “Please. Just don’t leave me… Don’t—don’t go where I can’t find you.”

“Woman,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. He must’ve known how you melted when he called you that, how easily you could give into him. “Don’t go lookin’ for me. I need you right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to flood your cheeks with tears. “I need you here,” you said. “I just don’t understand how you can do this after everything.”

You stepped back, gently yanking your hands from Daryl’s grasp until you stumbled back onto the sofa. You sat there staring straight through his face, which had sunk as the grim reality of his decision came shattering down upon him.

He wasn’t sure what was worse: being away from you indefinitely, or leaving you hurt like this.

As you held your head in your hands, you thought back to all the times Daryl had said he’d never leave you, in the same breath as the words “I love you.” Now that he was leaving you, without a return in sight unless he found Rick, you wondered if those words really meant anything.

“Did you ever even love me?” you asked sincerely.

It wasn’t that you wanted him to prove it, or to feel guilty for what he was doing, but you genuinely didn’t know anymore, and that uncertainty terrified you. You’d built your whole life around him the last few years. You’d made sacrifices, compromises, choices that were predicated on the belief that you were going to be with him forever. Was it over now? You had a feeling Daryl didn’t even know himself, all he knew was what he thought he needed to do, and that your relationship would have to hang in the balance until he accomplished his self-assigned task.

He swallowed hard, making sure he didn’t cry when he opened his mouth to speak. “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “I never will.”

That was six months ago now.

Six months since he’d seen you, six months since he’d held you, six months since he’d heard you say, “don’t go where I can’t find you.”

He hated that he’d done just that, and he quickly realized that his decision wouldn’t ease the pain of Rick’s disappearance.

All it did was render him lonely. Much more lonely than he’d ever felt in his life.

Still, he gave himself a mission, a responsibility to find Rick alive or dead. There were questions that needed to be answered, and Daryl didn’t leave any stone unturned.

He went where you couldn’t find him, though you didn’t try to find him. You were convinced he didn’t want you, that there was more to his leaving than just finding Rick. He didn’t love you anymore, and you still found yourself wondering if he ever did.

Around the same time he left, though, you noticed you couldn’t find one of your blouses—the cream colored peasant blouse with lace trim and cinched waist. You hadn’t worn it in some time, since it was one of Daryl’s favorites on you, but its disappearance drove you crazy, since you couldn’t think of where it had gone to.

That blouse had lived a more interesting life in the past six months than you had, as it lay neatly folded at the bottom of Daryl’s pack, the only thing he had to remember you by.

Perhaps he should’ve told you he took it, knowing you were rather sentimental about your clothing, but in the emotional minefield of that morning he left, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He spoke very little that day, and he regretted not telling you everything he wanted to.

So now, sitting beside a rocky creek in the last golden light of the late spring afternoon, only the gentle sound of trickling water and birds chirping sweetly in the trees, he thought of you.

He always thought of you, especially with the weather warming up, knowing how much you loved to wear your sundresses and sandals.

You’d frolic around the house, opening the windows to let in the soft, subtle spring breeze and the twinkling sound of the wind chimes. When he was home, you’d somehow get him to lay on the couch, your body snuggled up to his as you both fell asleep to those wind chimes, on an afternoon not unlike today.

He could practically taste the sweet and sour lemonade you squeezed fresh from the tree that had grown outside the walls, but hovered over just enough to allow ripe yellow lemons to fall on the shady grass below, waiting for you to pluck them up with a delicate hand in the safety of Alexandria.

In his hands, he held your blouse, absentmindedly caressing the fabric between his fingers. He had taken great care not to let the lifestyle he’d been living the last six months tarnish or tear the thin fabric, as he fully intended that someday he’d return it to you.

He didn’t know when that day would come, which was why he couldn’t promise you he’d return, but for weeks, he’d felt home calling back to him. In fact, he was sure it’d been calling to him since the moment he left, but now he allowed himself to hear it, those dainty chimes on the wind, drowning out the sound of the creek before him.

He didn’t take your blouse out of his pack often. There was no way he’d risk staining it with his filthy hands, or let the well-preserved, lingering scent of your perfume wear off, but lately he found himself sitting here, not far from his camp, holding that shirt.

Did you ever even love me? The phrase rang out in his head, echoing in the empty cathedral of his mind.

The fact you even had to question it devastated him beyond even his own comprehension. What was worse was how he left without really proving it, without actions to mirror his words.

I never stopped loving you, he’d said. I never will.

He’d played that scene out in his head with every possible chain of events, but nothing could stop him from remembering what he had said, and the fact that what he said simply wasn’t enough.

Stupid, he thought to himself. I’m so fuckin’ stupid.

Six months of searching for a missing man, and he had nothing to show for it but a few dead ends. If he hadn’t found him now, he was never going to find him. He had told himself he’d never stop looking, but something had struck him just then, when he milled over your words once more: don’t go where I can’t find you.

If he kept looking for Rick, he’d be lost, too. It was time to go home.

He walked longer than he had in some time, long enough for day to stretch into night. The guards at the gate nearly couldn’t recognize the hero of Alexandria, face shrouded by a tattered hood and smeared with several layers of dirt and blood.

Only the crossbow on his back gave away his identity, as well as the gruffness of his voice. The gate opened for him with a familiar rattle, and quickly the routine began to settle in once again, as though he’d never left.

As his aching feet carried him towards the house he once shared with you, he found himself wondering if you were still there, or if you’d moved to a smaller home. His question was answered when he spied your muddied yellow rain boots sitting outside the front door, and your hand painted welcome stone on the front step.

Thank goodness he’d never lost his house key—he kept it on a long string of twine so he could never not find it.

As he turned the key and pushed open the door, he was overwhelmed with the scent of something he vaguely remembered coming from the kitchen, where the oven was still warm from dinner that evening.

Hunger overwhelmed him, and made him instinctively head to the fridge, where a recognizable casserole dish was sitting on the top shelf, still warm.

He didn’t notice he let out an audible grunt of hunger before he bent over to pull the dish out and set it on the counter. Peeling back the tin foil, a smattering of potatoes, cheese, garlic, and probably a myriad of other spices and vegetables you’d thrown together, greeted him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cheese, or anything moderately tasty, but it must’ve been before he left, certainly it was something you had made.

As he shoveled spoonfuls of lukewarm food into his mouth, he realized you had inadvertently made good on your promise: you had that casserole ready for him when he got back.

Turning to face the clock on the wall, he narrowed his eyes to see through the darkness: 10:37 PM.

You must’ve been asleep upstairs, and plopping himself onto that bed alongside you was just about the best possible thing he could think of right now. He trudged up the stairs, with each step careful not to wake you. He was worried about how you might react to his sudden appearance after so long away, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see you. He couldn’t think straight enough to work out the logistics. What if you woke up before he did, and what if you were terrified of his sudden presence? Perhaps you wouldn’t even want him in your house, after so long of not seeing him. Still, there was no indication that your relationship was over when he left. He assumed it was an unspoken agreement that if and when Daryl returned, you’d pick up right where you left off. He only hoped that was a correct assumption.

Sure enough, you were asleep, without the light of the lantern by your bedside table which you used to leave on for him to return. As such, he could hardly see you, your features just barely illuminated by the cool, indigo-tinted light of the moon streaming in through the window.

In the warmth of the night, you must’ve kicked off your blankets, as your sprawled out body was outlined only in the thin cover of the sheet. He smiled to himself, remembering how much of a restless sleeper you were, always tossing and turning so much that you’d end up tangled in the blankets, and sometimes he’d wake up with your hand dangling over his face. You were even more restless when he wasn’t there, since his arms holding you close to his body seemed to keep you from moving around too much. That, and the comfort he provided you with was enough to lull you into the deepest, most undisturbed sleep.

As he stripped himself of his vest and shirt, he remembered how filthy he was, covered in grime and tree sap and dried walker blood. He was ashamed to admit he hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, and if you’d been with him, you would’ve made sure he bathed at least every other day, but he’d been alone for so long, left to his own devices, and his less than sanitary habits.

But a shower sounded almost as good as sleep, so he turned towards the bathroom door, gently closing it behind him as he entered to light the lantern next to the sink. Routine—it was all coming back to him. He had tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy out there in the woods, but he quickly learned that it was nearly impossible, what with the nomadic nature of his lifestyle, moving from camp to camp, never staying in one place for too long. As much as he was used to living like that, he hated it. It made him feel more like an animal than a human.

Tarzan, he remembered you calling him. Somewhere between man and beast. Right now, under the gentle stream of the warm water, as he struggled to comb his fingers through the large knots in his wild, disheveled hair, he never felt more like he was trying to regain his humanity, to wash the wilderness from his body.

He raised his hands to rub his face vigorously under the splashing water, and proceeded to further claw at the tangled clumps of chestnut waves on his head.

“Damnit,” he sighed under his breath. It was so much easier when you did it for him.

Remembering the existence of shampoo and conditioner, he turned to reach for the bottle of homemade “hair stuff,” as he called it. When he removed the cap, a fragrant burst of sweet pea and lemon awakened his senses. Oh, it was just like he remembered, just like the smell of your hair.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled under his breath. “My girl.”

He’d missed lathering his hair with your little concoction, but even more than that, he missed the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and the sound of your voice so close to his ear as you asked him about his day. Maybe you’d accidentally tug on his hair a little too hard as you tried to get out the knots, but he’d never complain. Not when even the pain felt so good.

Soon his head was drenched in white bubbles and soapy lather, cleansing his mop of brown hair and removing the blood and dirt that had somehow found their way into his wavy locks.

When he washed out the shampoo, he squeezed a hefty dollop of conditioner into his palm, and smoothed it through his less tangled hair to get the real stubborn knots out. It felt wonderful to finally be clean, but that was just his head. His body still needed tending to.

You must’ve still been getting those handmade bars of rose petal soap from the neighbors, since the sweet floral scent quickly wafted into his nostrils as he held it in his hands, rubbing it between them to make a thick lather.

As the conditioner settled in his hair, he dragged the soap languidly across his chest, paying extra attention to his underarms, which surely needed it.

His hands trailed down with the soap to his abdomen, circling around his navel. It’d been so long since his stomach felt full. His belly protruded more than usual, too, a sight that was welcome as he looked down to see the dirt washing off of him.

Next was, of course, his nether regions, where he’d felt an irresistible urge since the moment he saw you, even if he could hardly make out your face. He knew you were just as beautiful as ever, and that he wasn’t entirely sure how he could sleep in bed with you without getting lost in his lustful thoughts.

He could already feel the tingling sensation surge through him as he ran his soapy hand along his shaft, paying extra care to the tip and all the crevices.

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against the tile wall. It had been so long since he touched himself. In fact, he was sure he never really had time to do it while he was out in the wilderness, constantly in danger.

That didn’t stop him from thinking of you, though. All those lonely nights of shallow, dreamless sleep without the softness of your body he’d gotten so accustomed to holding. Too often had he found himself reaching for empty air, or whispering your name in the haze of his exhaustion. On particularly desperate nights, he clung to your blouse, burying his head in the bundle of fabric like it was a burial shroud as he unzipped his pants to just barely touch himself over his underwear, but that was long ago, and lately he had to reserve his yearning to simple thoughts and memories, making it all so much more potent. He needed you.

Without entirely meaning to, he gripped tighter around himself as he made longer and more intentional strokes. Soon the soap in his other hand must’ve slipped from his grasp, and he leaned forward to catch himself before the sudden pleasure of his touching became too much to bear.

He flinched slightly as his forehead pressed against the cool wet tile of the shower wall, one hand outstretched above his head, the other now tugging harder and faster on his cock.

When he became more aware of his body and its movements, he slowed his pace, opting to thumb at his tip in gentle circles as he took a deep breath. He felt the water hitting his back, heard the heavy pitter patter of droplets hitting the tile below and pooling around his feet ever so slightly. Funny how one could feel so alive, so human, in such a simple way.

And yet, he could hardly bear to allow himself that simple, human pleasure of intimate touch. How could he do such a thing when he’d left you alone for six months? The shower could cleanse his body, but not his mind.

Still, he allowed his fingers to trace gently along the semi-hard surface of his shaft, as once your fingers had done the same. “I love you, Tarzan,” your voice echoed in a distant memory. He nudged his forehead in small circles against the tile, as if it could ever feel like your warm, soft body, curled up against his as he held you like he always used to. Why did he ever stop?

Always trying to find something. Always trying to save someone. Always the hero.

The longer the water ran, the more he returned to the reality of his situation, and the more he realized just how exhausted he really was.

He crept out of the bathroom slowly, careful to hold the lantern close to him so as not to wake you with its light. His sore legs seemed to carry him to the bed—his side of the bed, the one that you’d left deserted for six months, as if you knew all along this night would come, that someday he’d come back to you.

What on Earth was he thinking? He could’ve slept on the couch, he could’ve slept on the front porch, for crying out loud, but would it be so bad if he slept here, where he belonged? Weren’t you still his, anyway? Please, still be mine.

If you were awake, he’d beg you, but you weren’t awake, and he’d spent too long having one-sided conversations. He just needed sleep, or you, whichever one he could have. If it was only sleep, he would take that gladly.

Though it was tempting, he had to admit. Tempting to wake you up. Tempting to gently rub your shoulder until your eyes shot open as they always did, an old habit from living on the road. Tempting to engulf you like quicksand until your body melded with his, for the first time in so long. Tempting to rid you of that silky button-up nightshirt he immediately recognized on your body. It looked a little suffocating, a little too modest for his taste. The night was warm, stolid and heavy. Even that sheet seemed too hot, or maybe he just wanted to see your body, that pliant, supple flesh he had once held sensual dominion over.

In your sleep, you’d finally settled into a fetal position, curled up on your side, back facing him. As he set down the lantern on the bedside table, you stirred slightly, a small, breathy whimper escaping your lips unconsciously.

From the indirect light of the lantern, he could finally make out your features—a stinging pain rose up in his abdomen, as he’d almost forgotten how sweet you looked in your sleep. It was something out of a Renaissance painting or a pre-Raphaelite’s hazy daydream. Though he could only see your side profile from his vantage point, your lips parted so delicately as your head moved in adjustment against the softness of your pillow.

He was just about to settle into his side of the bed when he noticed a dark piece of fabric tangled between your arms as you held it close to your chest. Squinting, he lifted his knees to the bed and leaned over you to get a better look, and of course he knew what it was. It was his, after all.

Aw, sunshine, he thought, watching your fingers curl and indent the fabric of his old black t-shirt he used to sleep in on cold winter nights. He could even make out some of the holes, in the same old spots.

Overwhelmed with love, he let himself lay down as close to you as he could without waking you, he’d hoped. His arm’s old muscle memory immediately kicked in as it draped itself gently over your side, a movement he was quick to take back when he felt your body flinch and heard your breath hitch in unison.

Sleep hadn’t quite lost its hold over you as you mumbled out something incoherent. You’d felt his empty presence before, especially when his name echoed in the atmosphere of your dreams on a nightly basis. By morning, you wouldn’t remember them, only blurry glimpses and long lost sensations.

In your mind, you always knew that slight weight around your waist was nothing but a phantom limb, but in your heart, you’d always bring yourself to look over your shoulder at his side, where he never was. Until tonight.

When you lifted your gaze ever so slightly, you swore you saw a faint glimmer of familiar blue eyes nestled between dark strands of freshly rinsed hair, though it couldn’t be, you thought.

Still, in your transitory state between consciousness and sleep, you mumbled his name under your breath, almost unintelligibly: “Daryl…”

Though he looked much clearer than he usually did in your dreams, you were quick to dismiss the dimly lit, shadowy figure beside you as nothing more than a lovesick illusion, so you turned and buried your face in the shirt you’d been clinging to every night since Daryl left, not knowing that he was right there, only wanting to hear your voice again.

“Hey, Jane,” he said softly, then reached his hand out to touch your shoulder as you flinched yourself awake.

“Oh... my god,” you said groggily. “Daryl?”

His body didn’t give yours the chance to turn to face him. Instead, he aligned his chest snugly to your back, and tucked his arms tight around your sides until you were fully stuck in his grasp.

Rendered silent, you shook your head in disbelief as you felt his lips hungrily latch onto your exposed neck, while his hands slid along your side in a desperate attempt to remove the sheet draping your body.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had come over him, whether it was the sound of your voice or the feeling of the warmth radiating from your body, but all he knew was that he had no immediate desire to explain himself, or to excuse his actions, if they could ever even be excused, all he could say, repeated in breathless sweeps of his nearly tear-soaked voice, was: “I’m sorry.”

Between each apology, his lips found a new part of your skin to soak with saliva from his frantic open-mouthed kiss.

The more you felt his lips tremble against your heated skin, the more your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and the more you couldn’t care less if he was sorry or not—six months without him, without love, made you ravenous for touch, and his touch alone.

When your shock and relief at his presence subsided, you reached back to squeeze his hand as it grasped firmly onto the fabric of your nightshirt, nearly tearing it in his reckless desperation.

You had barely even seen his face, but you felt his body and his presence with you in the darkness of your room, so it was enough to know he was there, that he loved you enough to come back home to you. Whatever anger and confusion you had was still there, but what consumed you was the very essence of him, the only thing you’d wanted for the past six months.

“Mm, Tarzan,” you hummed sleepily, bringing his hand to your chest to cup your breast.

You felt his chest heave against your back, and the scent of your shampoo in his hair made you smile as you bit your lip, trying to hold back the happy tears and save them for later.

His hand squeezed your breast gently, but just enough to elicit a deep sigh from your lips. The erection growing in his underwear was becoming unavoidable, and that hardness pressed up against your bottom made you shiver in need. Your body squirmed and writhed so much he hissed between his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, where his tongue traced circles under your ear.

Heat spread all through your body, until you were uncomfortable under the thin fabric of the sheet. With a huff, you kicked it off you, and Daryl’s hand didn’t waste a second to reach over your waist and palm at your clothed mound. You’d forgotten how strong he was—the pressure of his heavy hand pulled you even closer to him, and sent a small shockwave through your touch-starved body.

Both of you felt so delicate, like thin sheets of glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch. When his hand fondled you there again, you let out a sharp gasp as you reached down to hold your hand over his. “Yes…” you sighed. “Touch me… Don’t stop.”

He put more pressure on his palm as his fingers circled above your underwear, right over that sensitive little bundle of nerves he used to be so good at stimulating. His fingers were still just as good as they had once been—maybe even better from months of using them so much more than he had before. They were nimble and precise, yet somehow still heavy and bulky in shape. You’d never known such perfect fingers before, or such hands that could caress your body with the utmost love and respect.

Even in his desperation to touch you, to make love to you, he always held you like he could wait an eternity for you if he needed to—there was never any rush to his love, it was always slow and sweet, tender and soft. If you stopped him now, told him to get out of your house and to never see you again, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d respect your displeasure with him and his absence, but you didn’t pull away. Maybe a part of you wanted to, wanted to torture him and put him through the same pain you went through when he left, but something told you that he had gone through that same pain, too, that he never wanted to leave you, but he felt he had to.

You always knew he loved you, and here he was—proving it.

As his mouth sucked on the skin of your neck, you maneuvered his hand until his fingers slipped underneath the fabric and tickled your outer lips. His hand stilled for a moment, allowing you to use it to your liking. You used it to spread your lips, and encouraged his fingers to enter you slowly, all while you writhed purposefully against his palm, hitting your sensitive spot.

He groaned lowly in your ear as the feeling returned to his fingers, and he didn’t hesitate to dig deeper, two fingers curling up inside you until you whimpered in satisfaction. “Oh, God… Daryl.”

The weight of your leg being placed atop his as you tried to spread yourself out more caught him off guard, and his fingers dug deeper, sending you writhing and whimpering from the pressure. He felt your tightness squeezing all around his thick fingers, soaking them as you became more aroused.

“Don’t remember you bein’ this tight, sunshine,” he whispered into your ear between kisses. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

“Mm, put it in me,” you said, voice strained as your core rutted against his hand to increase the pressure. You bent the knee of your outstretched leg and grounded your foot on the bed, stretching your entrance as much as you could. “It’s been so long.”

He grunted in agreement as he pulled out his fingers to raise them to your clit once more, circling it in slow, rhythmic motions.

“I ain’t never stopped thinkin’ of you,” he said. “I missed you… God, I missed you, woman.”

You smiled and reached down to tug off your panties, while he moved to yank himself free from his own underwear.

Quickly you found yourself reaching back to grasp his hard shaft, pulling it to your folds where you pressed his tip to your clit. His chin pressed firmly to your shoulder, he watched you stroke his cock against your slit, which you dragged back and forth along his now aching shaft.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your neck. “I ain’t gonna last long.”

“Me neither.”

His hips jutted forward and backward, gently rocking himself against you. Each movement hit your clit and forced a heavenly sigh from your lips. Daryl had tried with all the mental fortitude he had to recreate that sound in his head, but your voice was like honey, coated in sugar crystals and dripping from your succulent lips. He hadn’t known sweetness like you and your body for so long, and he knew with every surge of tingles that ran through him that he couldn’t keep himself from his release for too long.

You gasped when his cock entered you slowly, breaching your entrance and burying itself in your tightness. Now you could feel just how incredibly close you were to bliss—only a handful more minutes of touching and penetrating would relieve you of your need.

“Oh, God!” you cried out in a gasp. “I—I… Oh…”

You felt his cock remain still inside of you as he caught his breath, trying to pace himself. His hand massaged your breast with tender, circular movements, comforting you.

You bit your lip and shut your eyes tight as you writhed gently to feel more of the pressure of his tip on that tingly spot inside you.

“You all right?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine… I think I just… forgot how big you are.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked with a smile, slightly more cocky than his usual one-sided smirk. He slowly pushed himself deeper, his cock curving more and more inside of you. The warm, confining walls of your body clenched around him on their own accord as they adjusted to his sizable thickness. Your body had been so used to it before, but now it was almost foreign, like your first time all over again.

“So… tight,” he grumbled against your shoulder. Letting go of your breast, he snaked his hand down to your clit, moving his fingers with increasingly fast pace. “Want you to come on me… Want ya to get this cock all soakin’ wet… like a good girl.”

You giggled under your breath. After all this time, you’d still never get used to Daryl’s dirty talk, but you loved it—the way his gruff, scratchy southern drawl made those sinful words sound so sweet and nearly angelic, yet with a deep, growling animalism in the pit of his stomach.

“Mm, don’t stop,” you sighed. “I’ll… come for you.”

“You better.”

His hand applied more pressure to your outside as his cock buried deeper inside you, going all the way until his hilt hit your bottom. You stretched your leg further behind him, allowing more room for the girth of his cock, though still you were so constrained around him, a feeling that had him gasping for air between heavy, breathless breaths.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”

He moved as rhythmically as he could as he lay on his side, with your leg wrapped behind him and your bottom on his lower abdomen, causing him to strain. His feet anchored him, allowing his hips to thrust in steady, consistent movements. There was just enough pressure on you, just enough to get those shockwaves of bliss pumping through you as he got you closer to letting go.

The more he penetrated you, the more your body soaked him in arousal, allowing more comfort for your orgasm to soon take over. As his hand applied more pressure, you grinded yourself against his palm in a desperate attempt to get more of that sweet tingly feeling.

“Easy, girl,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s all right… I got ya… Your man’s got you. I’m home.”

“Daryl…” you whimpered shakily. “Oh, Daryl… Don’t you… ever leave me again.”

“I won’t. I got you, sunshine. Let me make you feel good, just like I used to.”

Even he was starting to crumble the closer you got to relief, and as he pleasured you, inside and out, you shut your eyes tight and felt the incoming surge of pleasure about to send shockwaves through you. Still, you weren’t quite there, and the agony of wanting that sweet feeling to send your body into unrestrained convulsions was so potent that you couldn’t stand it anymore. Your sensitive, supple body couldn’t stand it anymore.

Tears began to roll down your cheek, seeping out from between the tightly closed lids of your eyes and falling into the corners of your lips until the taste of salt melted onto your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, tears breaking your voice. “I need…”

“What do ya need?”

“I need to… to come.”

“You will.”

His hand gripped your mound hard and hit harder at your clit, sending you into a whimpering state of frantic writhing and panting. “Please…”

“I’m here… I got ya.”

The glass shattered when you least expected it, but it was so mind-numbingly good that you flung your head back onto his shoulder, while your body writhed and rocked back and forth in pleasure as each wave of bliss surged through you. “Yes!” you cried out. “Oh, yes… Oh, God…”

He held still inside of you as your walls clenched and squeezed around his aching cock, swollen and just about ready to burst inside you. Each pulse has him groaning against your scalp, where he’d buried his face in your hair. “Shit,” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me come, too.”

As your high subsided, you unfurled your leg and rolled more completely onto your side, careful not to let his cock go. He clung to you, his arms around your abdomen as he refused to release you from his grasp. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave again—he knew that from the moment he decided to come back home.

Without a word, he thrusted deep inside of you, moving at a more desperate pace. He kept his arms hugging around you, with his hand placed firmly on your stomach, where he felt his body meeting yours.

“I love you,” he panted in your ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Daryl… Come inside me.”

He groaned just at the thought—the thought of filling you in the most sensual, intimate way possible, and watching it all trickle out, the proof of his love for you.

One more deep thrust and he felt the final pulse trail down his shaft, into the tip, and out into you, his moans and “ah’s” of relief sinking into your shoulder as his teeth dug a small imprint.

Your sigh of pleasure broke out into a breathy, delirious laugh, the feeling of his spend tickling you from the inside and heating you up with its warmth. He held you close by your waist as his hips kept thrusting, eager to drain every last drop inside of you.

He must’ve had so much built up inside of him, so much pent up need for release—his explosion never seemed to end. He was writhing against you, dragging heavy, open-mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck.

“Mm,” you sighed, rubbing your stomach as if you’d just eaten the best meal of your life. “You still got it, Tarzan.”

He blushed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “Ain’t nothin’ without you, Jane.”

You turned your head till your lips met his, for the first time in so long. His tongue snaked languidly into your mouth, and yours did the same, until you pulled away, with your tongue circling over his lips.

You studied his face in the dimness of the dark room, and that sorrowful look in his eyes reminded you of your own sadness, the one that had left such a bitter taste in your mouth for so long. Daryl might’ve filled you up with sweetness again, but you wouldn’t forget how he left you.

“You jerk,” you said, much to his surprise. “You left me… I thought you’d never come back.”

“I—I know,” he said, tangling his hand in your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. He never had a way with words, and he was hoping he’d proven it with his actions. “Shoulda never left. Shoulda stayed right here, with you.”

You shook your head and turned your body towards his, finally seeing him in full. It reminded you of long nights laying in bed together, talking endlessly until the sun came up, or until one of you fell asleep, usually you. Only now, instead of talking about the future, you spoke of the past, of the moment Daryl broke your heart, and his own, too.

You soon found your cheeks were soaked in tears, and his hand quickly moved to catch them. You’d cried so many times since he left, always wondering where he was, if he’d found Rick, if he was even alive. You yearned for his touch, for his thumb to brush away the tears and for his lips to kiss them away until there were no more tears left to cry.

Now, he was finally here, you just weren’t sure how to deal with it.

“I know… I know that you love me,” you said. “I know that. I just wish… I wish I would’ve wrapped myself around your ankle and made you stay.” You laughed through your tears, and he smiled, too, just a little, at the thought. “I think I loved you too much to do that… You weren’t happy. You did what you needed to do. I understand that. I mean, I didn’t like it, but I understood it.”

He shook his head. “Nah, don’t make excuses for me. You should be mad… Shoulda kicked me outta this bed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, still tearful, but clouded now by happy tears, not sad ones. “I don’t think I could ever kick you out of bed… But I’ll tell you one thing.” You wrapped your wrists loosely around his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead touched yours. “Next time you leave like that, you might not have a warm bed, or a woman, waiting for you when you come back.”

He nodded seriously, his damp bangs tickling your nose as they fell into place. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t gotta worry about that, though. Told you, I ain’t ever leavin’ again.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, giggling at your own emotional state. “Good. Sometimes, I felt like going out there, try to find you. Almost did once or twice. Michonne stopped me. But you know, I knew I wouldn’t be able to find you anyway.”

He sighed, the cruel sting of guilt stabbing him in the side. His chin lifted to rest on your head, as his hand moved to stroke your back, replacing your nightshirt to cover your bottom half. “You don’t belong out there,” he said. “Neither do I. I know that now. Just… had to try.”

“I know. Hero complex. I think that’s just one reason why I love you so much.”

You leaned up to kiss his forehead, nestling your nose in his scalp, where you got another good whiff of your shampoo. “Did you take a shower just for me?” you asked, slightly blushing at the idea. Of course, you knew he probably would’ve taken one anyway, but a part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he did it for you, knowing how much you loved him when he was clean.

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, wry smirk. “Well, uh… Maybe. Knew you wouldn’t want me dirtying up the place.” He looked around the room, the light of the lantern behind him casting a shadow of your curved figure on the wall. Not much had changed at all since he left, other than a few of the trinkets he had brought back for you being on full display on your shared dresser. Absence really did make the heart grow even fonder, though you were always certain you couldn’t love Daryl anymore than you already did.

It reminded him of the shirt he had seen you clinging to as you slept, and how he, too, kept one of your shirts for just the same purpose. “You sleep with my shirt every night?” he asked with a slightly mischievous raised eyebrow.

You huffed. He knew the answer to that question, you could tell. “Don’t make fun,” you said. “I missed you. You’re important to me, and… sometimes, that shirt felt like all I had left of you.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat that formed at your words, and he knew if you said anything like that again, his heart would break into a million pieces. Not only because he had put you through this, but because he knew the feeling, too. He knew the fear that he would never see you again, the uncertainty of it all.

“I, uh… I got your shirt, too.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. The slight embarrassment of his sentimentality made him flustered. “Ya know, I… mighta taken that white shirt with me.” Another pang of guilt knocked the wind out of him. He had taken one of your favorite shirts, for his own benefit, what kind of man was he? “I’m sorry. I shoulda asked, or—”

You laughed and squeezed him tight, nestling your head in his shoulder to kiss the junction of his neck. “That’s so sweet,” you said, choking up once again. “Sweetheart, do you have any idea how crazy I was, tearing this place apart looking for my blouse? I thought it just… grew legs and walked out of here, never to be seen again.”

“Well, I kept it in perfect condition,” he said. “Good as new. No stains, no rips, nothin’. Like it never left.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

✏ Taglist

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #twd smut

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kennarose1108 · 2 years

Text

Daryl Dixon x Reader (HE CHEATS, PART 2)

Over the last month you have been trying to keep your mind off things. Instead of Beth taking care of Judith like usual you took over the role as her caregiver instead, speaking almost all day and all night with her. Some nights Rick would panic, seeing Judith gone from her crib just to find you curled up in your bed with Judith in your arms both of you out cold. At first Rick wondered why you took such a big role with Judith... As much as you loved being around Judith before you did other things.

Like helping with the crops, going out on runs, etc. But now you seem to have completely changed, only spending time with Judith and not speaking much but sometimes helping Hershel with the crops... But you especially didn't speak about what happened between you and Daryl.

You hadn't fully grieved the loss of your and Daryl's relationship. Other than the night it happened you hadn't really cried about it and you tried your best to ignore it. Daryl on the other hand was a complete mess. He couldn't sleep, not without you anyways.. He barely spoke to anyone, only giving them light nods and if you were lucky enough one worded answers. He tried speaking to you... But you would just tell him you were busy with Judith or the crops and walk away without even looking at him during that entire 'conversation'.

The main group got so sick and tired of this situation they made up a plan... One you wouldn't like so much. "Hey Y/N." Rick says while walking over to you. You were sitting on the ground with Judith who was playing with some of her toys. "Hey Rick." You say with a smile. "Look I need you to go on a run today." Rick says and your smile fades. "Um.. I can't. I'm taking care of Judith." You say nervously. Rick smiles before bending down and picking up Judith. "Me and Judith are going to have a father daughter day. I need you to go." Rick says and you stare at him for a moment. "I... I need to help Hershel with the crops then." You say while standing up and turning to leave. "The crops have already been taken care of. And before you make any more excuses the water pipe is unplugged, food is being prepared and they don't need help, and everything is taken care of. Besides going out on a run." Rick says. You close your eyes in frustration. Fucking bastard.

"Fine. When am I going?" You asked while turning around. "Now." He says while walking past you. You follow him outside and you stare at your feet. You finally looked up and saw Daryl leaning against his motorcycle. You stopped in your tracks. "No." Rick stops too and stares at you. "Y/N we need more supplies." Liar. You all had a week full of extra supplies lying around.

"No." You repeat. Rick sighs. "Y/N. Please." You glare at him in frustration. "Fine. But you owe me." You whisper the last part. "Alright." Rick says while a chuckle as you brush past him. Daryl watched as you walked in his direction, still not looking at him. Daryl got onto his bike and you sat behind him, barely putting your hands on his waist. He started up his bike and began to drive.

As you two drove down the streets you barely held onto his side making you almost fall off at some points. He tried yelling to you that you needed to hold onto him better because you'd be making sharp turns soon but you ignored him. You honestly would rather fall off his bike and possibly break your neck than touch him anymore than you had to. But Daryl being the annoying bastard that he was he went to the side of the road and stopped the motorcycle, turning it off in the process. "Y/N you need to hold onto me tighter otherwise you'll fall off and hurt yourself." You ignored him again, staring off into the trees. "Look you can hate me all you like but I'm not letting you get hurt." You still ignored him. He sighed in annoyance. "Fine. Guess we're sitting here then." You moved your hands off his waist and into your lap.

After about five minutes of sitting in ear piercing silence Daryl got more and more agitated. "Can we at least speak like adults? You're acting like a child Y/N." You scoff with a smirk. "Piss off Daryl." You spat. "She speaks!" He cheers. You shake your head while continuing to stare at the trees. "Are you just going to ignore me forever Y/N is that your plan?" He asks. You ignored him again and instead of agitated he got pissed off.

"I'm sick of this shit. Y'know Y/N we're probably some of the last people on earth so you'll have to speak to me at some point." You chuckle. "Even if we were the last people on earth I'd rather die than carry a conversation with you ever again." He turned his head to the side to look at you through his hair. "What did you just say?" He asks. You ignore him again and he turns his head back forward. "You're a real bitch y'know that?" You chuckle again, turning your gaze onto your lap. "At least I don't whore around when things get tough Daryl. I have some self respect unlike you." He glared at the road and his breaths hardened. "I think now I finally understand." Your eyes flicked up to the back of his head. "Understand what." You ask, curious to what he was going to say.

"I think now I understand why your ex boyfriend would beat the ever living-shit out of you." You stopped breathing. Before the apocalypse you had an abusive ex who liked to beat on you for sport. You have scars all over your body from your many beatings and some surgical scars from your frequent trips to the hospital.

The last time you saw him was when the apocalypse started. Some walkers were trying to break into your shared home and he tried sacrificing you to get away. But lucky for you he got the karma that was waiting for him... As the walkers were eating his flesh you booked it down the street hearing his screams echo behind you. That's when you found Hershel's home, you were beaten, bloody and bruised and he took care of you. He also took pity on you. So you stayed on the farm with him and his daughters until Rick and his gang showed up and that's when you met Daryl. You and Daryl got together long before the 'incident' at the farm and you told him what happened to you. He understood and never made you feel bad about it or used it against you for having issues in the relationship. Maybe that's why you two have been arguing... Maybe you had such bad trust issues that instead of talking them out with Daryl you took your frustrations out on him.

But that wasn't the point here. He said an awful and very hurtful thing. Your heart began to race and your chest ached at the sudden rise of anxiety. Your breath hitched and in a sadden panic you got off his bike and walked down the road with tears blurring your vision. When he realized you were off his bike and walking down the road it hit him like a truck with what he said. "Fuck." He mumbled to himself while getting off the back and jogging towards you but keeping a distance.

"Y/N wait I didn't mean that." You ignored him. "Baby please I'm sorry." You shook your head as your bottom lip trembled. "Please get back on my bike we can talk about this when we get back to-" Daryl was suddenly stopped by you quickly turning out and swinging your fist to his cheekbone. Daryl stumbled back and held onto the side of his face. "Fuck you Daryl! Who the hell do you think you are?!" He looked at you in shock as you screamed in his face. "You don't get to fuck some other girl and think everything will be okay with a simple talk. And whatever small chance you had you just blew it." You stared at him like a rabid dog, feeling every single horrible emotion imaginable.

You then shoved him. And again. And again before your fists start to pound on his chest. You mumbled out profanities and a few 'I hate you's' in the mix of your hitting. Daryl sat there and took it, knowing he deserved it. You start to sob while hitting him and he thought that was enough. He grabbed your wrists gently and started to mumble your name until you stopped. Daryl moved your arms aside and took a step forward before engulfing you in a hug. You didn't hug back of course... You just rested your hands against his chest as you sobbed into the crook of his neck.

He hated himself. Even though you may have been a big reason why you two were arguing it was him alone that broke you both apart for good. He was afraid that you breaking up with him would hurt so he used something to cushion the fall but this... This was worse than anything he could've imagined. And now he had used something so sensitive and something you trusted him with against you.

"I want to go home..." You mumbled in between sobs. "I'll bring you home.." He sighed deeply. He then pulled away and you both walked back to the motorcycle. You decided to not act like a brat again so you wrapped your arms around his waist as he drove home. When you guys came back to the prison Rick greeted you both. "Hey that was-" You brushed past him with your head down, not saying a word. "Quick..." He watched you walk off into the prison before turning back to Daryl. He noticed the bruise on his cheek and he sighed. "What the hell happened out there?" Rick asks. Daryl looked at Rick for a few seconds before walking off himself, basically telling him he was a dick for forcing you to go.

Rick sighed again and shook his head in disbelief. 'Now what?' He thought to himself.

PART 3?

MASTERLIST

#daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x oc #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon oneshot #norman reedus #twd fandom #twd fanfiction

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 3 years

Text

Quarter!

Word Count - 2,800

Perspective - 2nd person

When - the Quarry. Same universe as Slowpoke and Deal. Find the Slowpoke Series and other stuff here!

Relationships - you and the gang! But this one mainly features the kiddos: our boy Carl, Sophia, and the two Morales children Eliza and Luis. There is no Daryl crush quite yet, but it follows the development and arc of his character, including how "you” perceive him.

Genre - nice and fluffy (though Daryl still should have used the pillow)

Pronouns - not technically mentioned again

TWs - language including the f-bomb, and allusions to spousal and parental abuse (Ed Pelletier)

“Will you tell me honestly?”

“Always Carl, what’s up?” you tell him.

“I think it’s cool and all, but are we gonna use stuff this in the real world?”

You shoot him a mischievous look. “Bored, punk?”

That made Luis giggle.

“Not too bored.” Carl smiled and tilted his head. “Just...wondering.”

Sophia speaks up, voice quiet as always. “My mom says we’re learning these things now, because they’re the, um, the foundation for the more bigger stuff we can learn later.”

“My papi said the same thing!” Eliza jumped in. “Learning about angles is what we need if we want to build buildings!”

“Or bridges and stuff!” Sophia added excitedly.

“Heck yes, girls, exactly! You two ladies thinkin’ about becoming architects?” you ask them. “Ms. Jacqui works in something to do with buildings and such, y’all should chat!”

“Maybe,” Sophia responds first. “I sort of want to be a policeman – well, policewoman – or a detective or something. Then I could stop bad guys from hurting people and stuff.”

You tamp down the rage that you felt bubbling up regarding that little girl’s trashcan of a father.

“Did you, um,” you stop to clear your throat and remind yourself to stay calm. “You talk to my brother yet, honey? Mr. Walsh a cop.” You lift your shoulders and smile. “He could tell you all about it.”

“He was cop partners with your daddy, right Carl?” Luis asks.

“Y-yeah...”

You don’t need to look to know that Carl’s expression had fallen. You could hear it in that response.

The kids did too.

“I’m sorry your daddy died, Carl. I would hate to lose my papi,” Luis tries to comfort him. “Yo, I have a pudding cup I’ve been saving. Do you want to share it? It’s chocolate!”

Then you hear Eliza then whisper to Sophia “You can sleep in our tent again tonight if you want. Maybe your mama can come if she doesn’t want him yelling at her more.”

Oh fuck, how had a – oops! You meant “oh fudge.” If you’d said that word out loud, you’d owe each kid a quarter. Rules is rules.

But really, how had finishing a math lesson turned into this? You glance around hoping to see one of their parents who could help (minus Ed. If he disappeared and never returned, good. You’d only feel sadness for Carol, because she would blame herself. Battered women usually think that they deserved the hurt or that it doesn’t matter).

Anyways, you’d taken over the schooling for the rest of the morning and are pretty much on your own for the moment, it seems. Carol had taken kitchen duty, and Lori was with Miranda doing either laundry duty or water duty, and you knew that Mr. Morales was on another run. And forget Shane.

You love your big brother, but he’d probably get them to ditch school early with him to go catch frogs or listen to Led Zeppelin or something. He’s fun like that. When you were little, he’d picked you up from school on more than one occasion to take you to the movies, swimming, shooting range, or to get hush puppies and fried catfish.

Yeah naw, you are gonna have to handle this yourself. Amy helps out sometimes, but she’s doing something with Andrea. Cleaning out that canoe, you think…

Yeah nope, you are solo for this one.

But it’s no big thing, you tell yourself. They’ve already been living through a worldwide pandemic that lead to society collapsing. And you know how to be honest with kids in a delicate way, if the situation got sticky. And having a deceased parent is something that’s become more than very common.

Having an abusive one, on the other hand…

Ugh. You hate this. You hate Ed. May he fall off the quarry edge and drown.

Okay. Back to it, you tell yourself. Revert the subject back to schoolwork in a non-awkward and non-dismissive way. Later, you’d offer to Carol to have Sophia share your tent again, if she didn’t have another sleepover with Eliza. If only Carol would share your tent, too…

Ugh! Shane had warned you against getting too involved in their situation. So had Dale. But how could you not want to?

Yes, you understand that the fallout for Carol and Sophia is the worry. But you also know that Shane is right there with you in wanting to break both of Ed’s filthy hands and maybe his face while you were at it.

Whoa. Calm down.

You try to remind yourself that every person is capable of redemption...ugh...

“Alright, kiddos. Eliza, Carl, and Sophia, no more skirting around your geometry. And how are you feelin’ about your times tables, little man?” you direct at Luis. “Did you wanna go over them again?”

“I wanna go over them with mama later,” Luis decides.

“You know what I want to do later? I want to build a twig cabin to put daddy longlegs in.”

“Oo I like that, that would be so cool! But no spiders!”

You consider...“Carl, you are totally gonna build a twig cabin because like Eliza just said, that would be so cool,” you begin, feeling your mood perk back up. You grin at the kids.

“So your homework is to do just that, okay? Count how many sticks you use. Be as imaginative as you want, just keep this in mind: we’re gonna count and measure every stick used, and measure the angles of the walls and the roof.”

“How come? Is that part of a test?”

“Yes indeed, Miss Sophia: we’re gonna test ‘em out tomorrow by putting a jug of water on top to see how strong they are. So what do y’all say, sound good?”

Their replies are in the affirmative.

Carl obviously teases you about assigning homework when school was a picnic table, so you remind him that “Punk, you were the one who came up with the assignment.”

Luis, by now, has half of his body stretched out on the table. He’s the youngest of the group, and is getting restless. “Are we gonna learn about eating bark again today for our last lesson?”

“Why, are ya hungry, little man?” you wink at him. He giggles.

“You kids vote. Do y’all want to learn some more first aid or health things, a wilderness survival tip, or to practice throwing punches again?”

The ‘last lesson’ was something that you or somebody else in the group tried to do every day. For example, tomorrow, Dale and Jim were going to do a mechanical lesson with them. Amy had done a fishing one, and T-Dog had done a football workout with them and showed them how to throw spirals.

Your lessons have been nothing too fancy or complex, but you wanted to put what you’d learned in school and EMT training to good use. Not that your official national exam results would be coming in anytime soon, what with the...state of things in the world.

Shane (the provider of the self-defense tips, naturally) had told you more than once how lucky you were to have done your classes, training, and testing just before the outbreaks started. Hand to God, you were more than a little grateful that you hadn’t been training or working in an ambulance when the sickness started. You’d been part-timing as a phlebotomist and that was a close enough call.

The wilderness tips came from your collection of books you’d kept in a hiking bag in your trunk. “Backyard Medicine,” etc, those types of books. You’d found that subject fascinating and intriguing in the before-times. Well, you sure were grateful for that now. Who knows how long you’ll all be out here?

And since that dude Daryl has let you join a few times when he’s done his hunting thing, you hope to learn enough that you’ll be able to share some pointers on that soon enough. Pity that he and his brother are racist, rude, stereotype dickheads.

For real, the older one, Merle, had walked by once when Miranda was doing a Spanish lesson, and he started to comment about “that sp*c language.” See, even he’s helping to give lessons: the kids learned right away that people will mock you for no reason other than they’re racist and high.

Ugh, that trash even had (you’d gladly pay the quarters to use the obscenity) the fucking SS symbol on his bike. You’d thought the motorcycle was cool until your saw what that nazi had painted on it.

At least Daryl was quieter and knew his stuff. He’s patient enough to let you tag along on some of his hunts, and on that note, hunts for the group.

Merle seemed to bully him a lot, actually. And not always in the way siblings will rag on each other. It was upsetting.

Anyways, you can admit that Daryl is decent enough. He sure ain’t Ed.

“Punches!” Sophia and Luis immediately vote. Okay, fifty-fifty already.

“Wilderness survival stuff,” is Carl’s vote.

“First aid seems the most important,” is Eliza’s vote.

Okay, punches wins. You’re running out of ideas for self-defense lessons, though. You’d already showed them the escape moves that Shane had taught you, and the last two times you’d shown them a set of basic punches and kicks that you’d learned from, um...kickboxing workout videos.

But hey, punches are punches, right? So long as you hold your arm and wrist the right way. Yeah. That’ll do the trick. It’s not like you’re about to show them that choke hold Shane showed you that time. Apparently, it’s illegal.

Yeah, foundational stuff is great for the kids. You’ll re-teach the hitting and kicking sets, with a focus on holding the wrist correctly and throwing their weight correctly! That should work nicely.

The thought pops into your head that you wish Carol was present. Well, maybe it might can still benefit the both of them, since Sophia was learning, right?

You jog over to grab the camping cushion that Dale had given to Jacqui, that’s what you used for the kids to practice hitting. “Okey dokey, proper stance, y’all. Show me it.”

The kids spread their legs to shoulder width, good. Their arms are bent at the elbow with fists formed, good. “Remember, don’t hunch your shoulders, although that might feel natural if you ever find yourself in a fight. But you might could hurt yourselves, so no hunched shoulders, yes?” At this, their backs straighten up some, good.

“When you bend your knees, keep it slight, not too much. Remember, the idea is y’all want to be able to move quickly in either direction, dependin’ on how your opponent –”

“What’s the ponent?” Luis cut in, brows set in concentration. Gosh, he’s he adorable. He gets so serious when he was learning how to fight, look at his face! Mr. Morales is a boxing fan, if you aren’t mistaken. Was it Jim you heard him talking about Manny Pacquiao to the other day? They’re both Pacman fans, you’re pretty sure.

“The opponent is your attacker, the person fightin’ you,” you clear up for Luis, then resume the lesson.

“Whichever is your dominant hand – that’s the one you write with – have the opposite leg more forwards, right?” you instruct. “Cause we wanna be able to use our body weight to hit harder and not tire ourselves out too fast.”

You look around at their positioning. “Sophia, tuck your thumb like this, okay? Kids, thumbs get tucked down here like this,” you demonstrate. “You might can break them super easy otherwise. That’s why striking with the heel of your palm is better, too!”

Predictably, Eliza and Sophia listened the first time you told them this, but Carl and Luis soon switched to fists. You'd usually insist on making sure they're using palms only, but all of them except Eliza are heeding the advice today. Must be that they're more confident after a few lessons.

“Did you ever break your thumb when you punched someone?” Luis then asks, and it's all you can do to not to hide in embarrassment.

Pardon: when? Not if? Do you seem like a throwing-hands type of person? Well...maybe you’re sorta hot-headed, but you’re also...gentle and sort of goofy. That’s why you and Glenn get along so well...right? Oh crap, how do people perceive you?

“Happily, I ain’t broken no bones at all yet, fingers crossed.” You pause, then snort “But no fingers crossed when making a fist, m’kay?”

Carl cracks up at that, then he, Sophia, and Eliza start to make overly exaggerated bad fists and fake punches, complete with sound effects. Luis will of course do no such thing, and instead begins to throw adorable (but very serious) kicks.

“Hey kid, don’t do that with your back,” a voice interrupts. You sigh.

Least it isn’t Merle or Ed. Whatever, so long as Daryl doesn’t use any bad words around the babies.

He walks over, complete with one, two...seven dead squirrels flopping on his belt, and rasps at Luis that “If you lean too far back like that, you could throw your balance off and fall and shit.”

“Quarter...”

“Quarter.”

“Quarter!”

“Quarter,” you huff to yourself.

Daryl both sounds and looks annoyed. “Why the hell y’all sayin’ quarter?”

“That’s another quarter,” Luis whispers.

“We got a no-cuss-rule, remember?” you explain, putting your hand on Luis’ shoulder and subtly guiding him towards you.

“What, like your no-litter rule?”

You choose to ignore that, already feeling that anger bubble back up. “Exactly. But for this, rule is you owe each kid a quarter when you swear within earshot,” you say, attempting to sound cheery if only for the kids’ sakes.

Surprisingly, Daryl only shrugs as if in surrender.

Until he then grumbles “That’s bullshit. What they gonna do with quarters anyways?”

“He now owes each of you three quarters,” you loudly announce. “How many pennies is that, guys?”

Whoa hold up. Is Daryl...checking his pockets for change?

“Seventy-five cents,” Sophia replies timidly. Men like Daryl (who you’d politely describe as “gruff”) made her nervous, and you couldn’t blame her. Sophia also adds “That was an easy one, though. Everyone knows three quarters is seventy-five cents.”

“Yeah, we’re not babies.”

“Carl, please,” you tease. “I changed your diapers; you’ll always be a baby to me.” And you are about to have them tell you seventy-five times three (while desperately doing the math in your head!), until you see Sophia's cute little expression.

She’s smiling shyly. “C’mon, we’re not that little.” The sweet way that she said it while holding the doll that Eliza shared with her sort of makes the sentence have the opposite effect.

“Sometimes, I liked to pretend Luis was my baby when he was smaller,” Eliza tells you all.

As you and the kids chatter on, you notice that Daryl’s expression looks...nice? You aren’t sure. But he didn’t seem annoyed anymore. You could almost venture to guess that he’s entertained. At least he isn’t being a dick, and hopefully he isn’t amused by the kids because he’s a creep. You’d never gotten that vibe, but now you wonder...

He catches your eye. “So, you gonna keep showin’ them how to hit right, or just keep yappin’?”

Well, you'd known it was only a matter of time until he turned dickish again.

“Mr. Dixon’s right, let’s get back to it. Get into position.” You grab the pillow and hold it out to him. “You’ve punched someone before, right?”

“What, I got that look or somethin’?”

“Yes. But it’s not an insult,” you quickly say. You shouldn’t be rude, plus you meant it. “It’s important for the kids to learn how to do something from somebody who has actual experience doing it.”

You notice that his eyes make the briefest of once-overs on you. “Yeah, you don’t look like you should be teachin’ no fight club.”

“Hey, shh! That’s the first rule!” you joke, hoping he got it. You’d never actually seen the movie, but everyone knows the first rule of fight club.

And to your delight, he snorts and almost smiles.

You look at the kids and incline your head towards Daryl. “Do me proud, nerds, then school’s out.”

He awkwardly holds the pillow and the kids start to practice. After the first kid goes (Eliza), he ditches the pillow, instead having them hit his arm (no, seriously). You bite your lip, nervous, as he winces a little when the kids start hitting somewhat harder. They're just excited to see if they could do well against someone tough like him, but still...

“We’re practicing proper technique here, my little savages, not tryin’ to maim Mr. Dixon,” you warn.

Carl does admirably, Eliza has the spirit at least, and Sophia, to your delight, causes the man to grimace and rub his arm in the spots she struck. You have to admit that you feel sort of guilty that he is most certainly gonna to be bruised and sore, but hey, he’d chosen to forego the pillow.

But then it’s Luis’ turn. Little man Luis, who takes his self-defense lessons very seriously. He asks Daryl “I keep my back like this?” and Daryl re-positions him, then nods for the boy to begin.

You should've seen it coming. So should've Daryl.

Luis does his punches as hard and quick as he can, but then adds kicks – and one hits Daryl right in the you-know-where.

Aw, shit.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelps, buckling before storming away. Then he turns around. As he’s heading back, face red, you’ve already been apologizing, as is poor Luis, who’s scared and probably thinking that he’s about to actually need to defend himself from an angry, scary, mean grown-up. Sophia has gone white, Carl is holding her hand, and Eliza has already stepped next to you and her little brother.

You’re ready to shut the man down if he gets too mouthy; Luis is a child, he made a mistake, he knows it, he’s sorry. End of story.

And Daryl should’ve been using the pillow! Your heart is pounding, you feel yourself starting to sweat, even your hands feel tingly.

But you’re still not going to take any of his shit. You gulp and hope you don’t look nervous.

And now he’s back in front of you.

But instead of an angry tirade...Daryl shuffles his feet (??), rubs his neck, and waves off Luis’ and your apologies.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grunts. “I owe ‘em another damn quarter.”

Then he blinks when he realizes it. “...another two quarters.”

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valewright67 · 3 years

Text

Ok, so for the holidays, I'm visiting my grandparents a state over, and they have goats. (Guys they were so cute and playful and fluffy, I loved them so much--) and long story short I got an idea.

First of all, Meliodas grows out his hair to "throw people off his tail" but in reality, the guy missed longer hair, and he was too lazy to chop it. (You cannot convince me that half the reason his hair is so messy isnt because he does it himself.) This particular part is entirely self indulgent because Ponytail Meliodas got me screaming.

So first of all, ESCANOR was the one who found Hawk and decided to create a bar as a cover for himself. He called it "My Sweet Gluttony" of course.

Meliodas on the other hand, he woke up (powers intact, but sealing them within himself for subtlety) in the middle of a herd of wild goats. He blinks, looks around at them and shrugs. He can make this work, it wouldn't even be his first time being a goatherd.

As a magical creature himself, rather than a human (who is the clan most disconnected from nature and magic) He tamed the goats pretty quickly. Well, sort of. They listened to him, but it was more of a mutual respect and understanding than anything else.

He gave into sentimentality as he named them. The one who'd woken him up by chewing on his hair was, quite amusedly, stained pink from getting messy with some wild berries. He named this one Little Goat, and he had a dappled beige and creme coat. Original, he knows, but Gowther was his brother, in a way. Upon seeing the tan Goat that tried his best to wrangle the young ones, he dubbed that one Goat Dad.

All the goats, eight in total:

Sunny was a light Grey goat that had a sense of PRIDE as he not quite strutted around, and he flirted with a white goat he named Lisa. The Grey one reminded him of Mael, just a little.

There was another, slightly darker, Grey goat he dubbed Rossa, after the eldest of his younger brother. Mostly because he and Sunny, for whatever reason, fought each other constantly, usually over a very done with it Lisa.

Then there was Dris and Lucy, both of which were black, but Lucy had white markings. They also disliked eachother, but usually just avoided each other instead of fighting. They were attached to Rossa and Sunny accordingly. He thought it was funny how they divided themselves into little cliches.

Little Goat was trying to court a light brown goat he named Nadia. He seemed to like her calm, affectionate demeanor, and she liked his dorkish antics.

Glox was the most laid back of them all, with a dappled fur pattern of varying shades of brown. He was pretty content to hang out with an almost as laid back dark brown goat he named Daryl.

He was rather fond of his little herd. Poor Nadia and Lisa, the only girls. Oftentimes, they'd come hide with him and Goat Dad while the boys rough housed and galloped across whatever field they occupied.

He had set up camp for the night, a little fire set up in a spot he'd cleared, and his sleeping mat rolled out next to it. He'd been trying to cook some rabbit he'd caught when someone approached. He looked up quizzically then blinked when he recognized the signature inside the rusted, creaking suit of armor.

"Um... Hi?"

The figure creaked forward and he stumbled to catch it, before it landed in the fire. He settled her, he knew it was her already, against a tree and took off her helmet.

Yep. That was Elizabeth, without a doubt. He put a hand on her forehead and was a little concerned to feel that she had a fever. It wasn't a bad one, but there nonetheless. He opened up her armor and took her out, placing her on his bed roll gently and drawing the single wool blanket he had over her.

"Goat Dad, watch her please." He instructed as the beige goat settled beside her. Then he bounded off into the woods.

She woke up the next morning, wincing at the aches over her body, and the pounding behind her head, and was a little startled to find herself face to face with a beige goat, who bleeted at her and returned to grazing.

Then she registered there was a man sitting by the fire in front of her, a little grinding noise coming from something he was handling. Long, golden hair, tied back in a ponytail, was adorned with little strings of beads, some small braids thrown in. He was wearing brown pants, flexible, but not baggy, and a green tank top. There was also a green band on his left arm, over his bicep. (It was to hide his mark, but the whole outfit, top especially, reminded him a bit of what he wore in his Stigma days.) He glanced behind him and did a double take, then smiled at her.

"Hey, you're awake! I'm almost done with this." He twisted around to revel he'd been grinding some sort of plant(s) using a mortar and pestel. He pressed the pulp against the side and pressed down on it hard, most of the liquid dripping down. He took the pulp and put it in a small cup he pulled from his bag, then pulled a tiny kettle off of the embers by the fire, pouring the steaming water in. Finally, he handed the cup to her. "Drink slow, it's hot. It may taste foul, but it'll ease your fever and that soreness I'm sure you've got."

She took it, still stunned as she sat up slowly. True to his word, it smelled bitter and tasted worse, but she powered through. Already, she could feel her headache clearing.

"Thank you..." She whispered. "I- where am I? Who are you?"

"You can call me Mel, I'm a goatherd. A nomad, if you will. Just me and these eight idiots I call my herd. You collapsed in my camp last night. Your armors over there, by the w- Daryl, no, stop, don't eat that!!" He scrambled over to pull a dark brown goat away from her armor, and she giggled quietly.

"Thank you for helping me. Would you mind directing me in the direction of the nearest town? I'll be out of your hair right away!"

"Mm... sure, but a couple of conditions. First, you wait for that fever of yours to be gone, ok? Let me get you back on your feet. So recovered from your sickness, and some fresh water and food into you. I can't guarantee it'll be good food, warning you now. But it'll be food nonetheless."

"Are you sure, I've already intruded enough-"

"I insist, really."

"...Alright. What else?"

"Would you mind answering a few questions for me? Like... your name? What you're doing all the way out here? This is pretty thoroughly the middle of nowhere."

"M-My name is Elizabeth! I-... I got lost..." Her voice got down to a whisper, and Meliodas snorted. "I see."

They got to talking and it didn't take him long to get it out of her that she was looking for the Seven Deadly Sins.

"But I've been searching for WEEKS, and I've gotten nowhere, I haven't even found ONE of them!"

"Well, that's not true."

She blinked at him slowly, and the small, not quite fond smile he had on his lips widened to a little grin, a bit of mischief coming with it. His chin was in his hand as he leaned forwards, legs crossed. "You HAVE found one of them."

"...I beg your pardon?"

He laughed quietly. "You found me. Mel is a nickname, TECHNICALLY, it's Meliodas."

She gaped at him as he pulled down his armband a little, sitting up as he revealed the dragon mark. She went a little pale, and put a hand on her forehead. "Good lord..." She whispered. He pulled his armband back up with a smirk. "Indeed. Now. Would you tell me more about this plot to overthrow the kingdom?"

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #meliodas nnt #meliodas #nnt #elizabeth nnt #Elizabeth #Goats #Meliodas is a goatherd #he has eight goats #he loves them all #Ponytail Meliodas #Sorry I couldnt resist

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onebourbon-oneshot-onetear · 3 years

Text

Happier- Wayne and Y/N Oneshot

(Not my Gif- Credit to Owner)

Synopsis: Wayne finally says those three little words

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, ooc Wayne (I never feel like I properly write him lol)

Authors Notes: could be read as a stand alone, but if you squint really hard, it could be a sequel to my other story '5 Times Wayne Fell in Love with You'. Like, if you squint realllllly hard.

The toughest man in Letterkenny was not always one of many words. More often than not, he would sit in silence unless he was really worked up about something. Then it was hard to get him to shut up.

Except when it came to you. When it came to talking to you, the man could go on all day long. It didn’t matter what you were talking about. You could say that a blade of grass was interesting and he would agree with you and tell you everything he knows about grass. Which surprisingly enough, was quite a lot.

For as long as you had known Wayne, he had always been like this. When you first moved to Letterkenny from the States, him and Katy were both there to make you feel welcome. When you needed help with chorin’ Wayne was the first one there to help you. When uptown degens wouldn’t stop bothering you, Wayne had gathered all of the boys and started one of the biggest brawls Letterkenny had ever seen. And you appreciated him for it.

You returned the favors too. You always helped Wayne with the chorin’ whenever he needed it. More often than not you would be the one to pick him up off a barstool on the nights he got really drunk, take him home, and make sure he ate breakfast the next morning. You would patch him up after his fights. You both took care of each other.

And yet.

He was still on and off with Rosie. Even after he had knocked out her favorite cousin, they had gotten back together. And it irked you. You had known how you felt for a while. Every time you saw Wayne all you wanted to do was smother the butterflies that erupted in your chest. You knew that facing your feelings head on would only lead you down a slippery slope of heartbreak and awkwardness. So you just turned your back on your feelings and ignored them. No matter how much it hurt whenever you saw Rosie and Wayne together, or whenever he mentioned her.

Katy understood how you felt. She liked Rosie well enough, but she didn’t like how she was going back and forth between liking and not liking Wayne. It wasn’t fair to either of them. And if they didn’t make a decision soon you were afraid of what Katy would do, judging by her past record with Wayne’s ex’s. Granted, you had helped her, especially with the Angie debacle, but that was another situation entirely.

“My brother has been in love with you ever since he first met you. He’ll come around eventually,” She would say, but you could never put any stock into her words. If he loved you, then why was he with her? Why had he never said anything before? It hurt too much to think about so more often than not you pushed it all to the back of your mind.

You had lost track of which side of the back and forth they were at, but judging by how they were sitting close to each other at MoDean’s, you figured they were in a ‘together’ stage. So you sat next to Daryl at the bar, and drank your Puppers, with a miserable look on your face.

Nobody noticed, except for Katy, who sent you looks of pity from across the bar, but you ignored her. It wasn't long until you had enough, paid your tab, and got up to leave.

“Leaving already, Miss/Mr. Y/n?” Dan asked you, a little surprised since you hadn’t been there that long, less than an hour. The group looked at you in surprise as you stood up.

“Um, yeah,” you said, twisting a ring on your finger nervously. You didn’t really like all of the attention you were getting, especially under Wayne’s gaze. “I’m just tired. I’m going to go home and read,” you said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. They would see the half truth in your eyes. You were tired, but you weren’t going home to read. You would probably drink at home, away from the two people that were making it hard for you to even pretend to be happy.

“Are you okay to walk home?” Daryl asked, his way of offering to take you home.

“I’m fine,” you said, sending them a smile and a small wave. “I’ll see you later,” and you left without another word, missing the concerned look that Wayne gave you and the look of disappointment that Katy gave Wayne.

It was colder than you thought as you made your way home. You pulled your sweater around you and quickened your pace. Keeping your head down to avoid the harsh wind beating against your face, you weren’t paying attention to the figure that had appeared in your path, bumping into them.

A small grunt left your as you were bounced back, heading for the ground until two arms caught yours and held you up. “I’m so sorry,” you started before looking up into the eyes of the man you had run into, immediately stumbling over your words. He had deep brown eyes which contrasted with light brown hair. His chiseled cheekbones were pushed up in a grin as he smiled down at you.

“No, I’m sorry,” He said, his voice deep enough to send a small shiver down your spine. Your only reply was a bashful grin. He set you up on your feet, making sure you were okay. “My name is Adam.”

And that’s how you hit it off. Adam walked you home, both of you making small talk the entire way. Once he had gotten to your front door you gave him your cell phone number and you two had been inseparable since. First friends, then more than friends.

While you liked being together with Adam, he didn’t exactly fit in well with the group. He wasn’t from Letterkenny, he was from the city, meaning he wasn’t quite as, shall you say, down to Earth as everyone else. He got along well enough with everyone...except Wayne.

From the first time you had brought Adam around to meet the group, Wayne had been especially hostile towards him. He wasn't even subtle with his insults anymore. From all the years you had known him, you knew that Wayne was just itching to scrap with him. Thankfully Katy sat him down and told him to knock it off.

Wayne loved and respected Katy, and even you a small amount, so his teasing stopped, and him and Adam started resembling a friendship. At least, very slightly. Once that happened, you were genuinely happy.

Months had passed and everything in Letterkenny had settled down. You and Adam were properly dating, even talking about moving in together, Katy was back with Riley and Jonesy, and you still weren't quite sure what was going on with Wayne. And you honestly didn't care. There was no point in bringing up feelings that you had buried deep down.

You still got the butterflies in your chest, but instead of it being a swarm of them, it was only a few. Still there, but enough that you could ignore. You didn’t think you could be happier.

You were coming home from MoDean’s one night when you saw a car in your driveway. Right away you were a little concerned, because it wasn’t your car, and it wasn’t Adam’s. You immediately thought something was wrong and you rushed inside, fumbling with your keys, almost dropping your phone before swinging the door open and finding…

Adam on top of another girl. Naked. They hadn’t even noticed that you had walked in the door. Until you slammed the door shut behind you. Both of them jumped and immediately tried to cover themselves up, Adam already apologizing profusely.

“Y/n, I didn't mean it, it doesn’t mean anything!” He yelled, ushering the other girl out the front door and slamming it shut.

You walked past him, grabbing your backpack and stuffing some clothes into it, along with your other daily toiletries. You weren’t thinking about anything else except getting out of the house. You could barely hear Adam behind you, mumbling his excuses but you only blocked him out.

You finished your packing and pushed past him and back out the front door, hopped in your truck, and left without another thought. A few minutes later you arrived at Wayne and Katy’s house, the only place you could think about going.

You knocked on the door and Katy answered. And seeing her face, you immediately burst into tears and hugged her tight. She immediately wrapped her arms around you and brought you into the house. Through your tears you could see that Wayne, Dan, and Dary were sitting at the kitchen table, looking concerned.

Katy led you over to the couch and sat down with you. “Y/n, what happened?”

You sniffed and wiped your eyes, clearing your throat so you could speak. “I came home, and Adam was with another girl,” You said in between your sniffling. As soon as the words left your mouth you heard all of the kitchen chairs slide out and three sets of footsteps walk into the living room.

“Together, together?” Wayne asked. You barely glanced up at him before bursting into another wave of sobs and nodded.

You laid down on the couch and curled up, letting the tears run down your cheeks. Katy sat with you, stroking your hair and telling you that everything would be okay. At some point you must have fallen asleep, because you woke up with a blanket around you, and the kitchen light on. Everything else in the house was dark.

You stood up and stretched, your eyes still feeling swollen from all of the tears and your shoulders popping. You were extremely thirsty and walked into the kitchen to get water, and found Wayne sitting at the table, a Gus n’ Bru bottle sitting in front of him. He looked at you as you entered the kitchen and stood up. It was silent for a minute as you both stared at each other. You broke the silence first, mumbling a hello.

“Y/n, how’re you now?” Wayne asked.

You smiled at his usual greeting and took a cup off of the counter. “Good, and you?”

“Not so bad,” he said, walking over to the kitchen and getting the pitcher of water out of the fridge. As he reached past you, you noted his freshly bruised knuckles. Your chest started hurting again as you remembered the events of the day, why you were so upset.

You blinked back the leftover tears and looked at your now filled glass, Wayne putting the pitcher away. “Did you guys go over there?” You asked.

Wayne stood still before looking back at you over his shoulder, “Yes.”

“Did you scrap?”

Wayne had set the pitcher in the fridge, closed the door, and turned back to look at you, “Yes.”

You nodded and took a sip of water. “Thanks,” you whispered.

Wayne gave you a sharp nod and you just stood there thrown back into another bout of silence. You sipped your water, and Wayne looked around the kitchen, eventually giving a slight cough.

Not wanting to stay in the silence but not wanting to be awkward, you said the first thing that came into your mind. “How’s Rosie?”

Wayne looked nothing short of perplexed as he looked at you while he slowly answered, “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken for months now.”

Now it was your turn to look perplexed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had ended things.”

“We ended things a few months ago.”

Great. Now you were back in the awkward silence. You had finished your water and didn’t want to hold the glass anymore, moving to put it in the sink, which Wayne was leaning against. You set the cup down in the basin, accidentally brushing arms with Wayne. “Sorry,” you muttered reaching your hand back.

Before you could, Wayne had gently grabbed your arm, holding it in the air. For the toughest man in Letterkenny, he had a surprisingly soft grip. “I owe you an apology,” He said.

You were confused, thinking back to what he could possibly be apologizing for. He saw the look on your face, and continued. “I didn’t handle you dating well, and I took it out on you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

You thought back to all of the times that Wayne had insulted Adam. Even if he never said anything bad about you, ever since you had started dating Adam you noticed Wayne didn’t hang out with you, not as much as he used to. You shook your head, knowing that the apology wasn’t necessary. “Turns out you were right. I shouldn’t have been with him. Who knows how long he had been stepping out on me. I should have listened to you.”

By now, Wayne had slid his hand from the crook of your elbow to just above your wrist. “You deserve the world, Y/n.”

You didn’t know what to say except you noticed the butterflies in your chest had come back full force, staring at Wayne’s blue eyes in the low light of the kitchen. “Wayne,” you mumbled but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“You don’t need to say anything. You’re going through a rough time. I just needed to tell you��” he trailed off, suddenly not able to meet your eyes.

‘What do I have to lose?’ you thought as you reached up on your toes and laid a gentle kiss on Waynes cheek. As soon as you pulled away, he snapped his head towards you so fast you thought he was going to headbut you. You were only an inch away from each other, staring into each others eyes before Wayne whispered ‘Fuck it’ under his breath and leaned in, properly kissing you.

For a man who did manual labor his lips were as soft as you imagined them to be. He moved his hand to cup your face and wrapped his other arm around your hip, as your arms snaked around his waist, holding him as close to you as possible.

You didn’t even know how long you both had kissed each other before air was needed, and Wayne broke off the kiss. You were still in each other's space breathing heavily as you stared at each other. Wayne ran his calloused thumb across your cheek, studying your whole face. At first when he spoke, you weren’t even sure you heard it correctly, but as your brain caught up with the sound you couldn’t fight the grin that planted itself on your face.

He whispered those three little words. “I love you.”

You kissed him again, him eagerly returning the favor, doing what you had wanted to do for so long. You didn’t even care about the events of the last 12 hours, let alone the last few months. Wayne had admitted he loved you, and that was enough. “I love you, too,” You mumbled in between your kiss. The hurt that you had been holding onto was gone, replaced by pure happiness.

#letterkenny #letterkenny oneshot #wayne #y/n #letterkenny imagine

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holdmytesseract · 2 years

Note

Hey :) can i request a drabble with Daryl and the song "Moodswings" by 5sos: "I think I need you more than you need me" ... thank uuuu :)

a/n: I love this song! 🥰 Thanks for requesting, kind nonny! 😄 I hope you like what I wrote! ☺️

Warnings: bit angst, grief, mentions of death, fluff

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1042

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys

Lyric-Drabble-Mania Masterlist

Based on this song:

Demons

You took the two plates, filled with the piping hot soy bean stew from the small, makeshift counter of the food distribution in Hilltop in your hands and gave thanks, before you made your way across the small path, leading towards the trailer you shared with Maggie, Rosita, Sasha and Daryl. It was a very chilly evening, so the hot plates in your hands warmed your skin up.

Arrived at the trailer, you opened the door with your elbow and stepped inside. "I got some more food." You announced with a soft smile, before placing the plates on the small table, at which Maggie and Rosita already sat. "Where's Sasha?" "Finished eating already. She went to lay down." Rosita answered, taking another spoonful of the stew. "Oh okay..." You shoved one plate in front of Maggie, who stared aimlessly at the wall across. Your heart ached so much for your friend. Losing Glenn on such an excruciating way was horrible. "Maggie, hey..." You addressed your friend softly. "Eat something." She shook her head. "Not hungry, thanks." "I know, but please... You've got to eat something... It's important for you - and the baby..." Her gaze lifted, glassy eyes meeting yours. You tried to give her a reassuring smile, placed your hand on her arm, giving it a squeeze. In the end, she nodded, taking the spoon in her hand. Then you looked around the trailer, noticing that somebody else was missing... "Where is Daryl?" Rosita shrugged her shoulders. "I saw him leaving the trailer earlier, but I don't know where he went." "Oh, um, okay... I, uh, will go, look for him. He needs to e-" "Glenn's grave." Threw Maggie suddenly in. "He's at Glenn's grave. I saw him there." You swallowed hard. "Glenn's grave?" "Yeah." "Okay. I'll look for him. Thanks, Maggie."

You took the plate with the stew back in your hands and left the trailer again, in order to find your boyfriend. You made your way over to the two graves, put there for Glenn and Abraham. Maggie was right. Daryl sat on a stone beside the graves, chewing on his bottom lip and fumbling with his fingers nervously. The sinking sun casted a soft orange light on him; the cold evening breeze rustling his long hair. You could tell just by the look on his face and gestures, that he was deep in thoughts. So, you approached him slowly, in order not to startle him - what didn't really work out well in the end....

"Hey," you whispered, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Although, you were slow and gentle, you felt his body jolt underneath your palm anyway. "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." You apologised immediately and sat down beside him. "'S okay." "Here, I've got something to eat for you." Daryl shook his head, shoved the plate towards you. "'M not hungry. You eat it. Need it more than I do." He stared back into distance, leaving you frowning. Yes, something was definitely wrong - and you had a guess... He had been this way since he returned from the Sanctuary. He was even quieter than usual. Yes, he almost seemed... absent-minded from time to time.

You placed the plate on the grassy ground and took his hand instead. "What's wrong? Is it about... Negan? What he did to you?" Daryl didn't answer for a moment, just fiddled with his hands again, before he nodded meekly. "You want to talk about? You don't have to, of course." Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno... 'S not jus' that..." You just gave him a compassionate look, leaving him the option to talk further about what was occupying his mind - or not. Daryl swallowed hard, visibly fighting the tears. "It's my fault." You knew instantly what he was talking about... The line-up. Negan. Glenn's death. "No, it's not your fault." He nodded, sobbing. "It is." You started to shake your head, brushing a few strands of his wild curls out of his face. "It's not. This isn't on you, Daryl. I know, this may sound cruel, but... He would've killed Glenn anyway. And if not Glenn, then anyone else." Daryl looked up to face you, teary blue-grey eyes meeting yours. "Wha' makes you so certain of that?" You swallowed hard. "Do you really think Negan was going to stay true to his word and kill just one of us, after everything we've done to him? To his men?" You shook your head once again. "He's a cruel man. Unforgiving. He wouldn't have left it by just one. I know it." Daryl looked away again, facing the ground and taking a deep breath. "Shoulda been me instead, not Glenn." An audible gasp left your lips at his words. "What? Daryl, stop saying such things... He did enough to you. Tortured you. Physically. Mentally." "But it's true, innit? Glenn was 'bout to become a father, Y/N... And I-" He stopped abruptly in his sentence. "And you what?" You asked with a shaky voice. Of course, your heart ached and bled for Maggie. Glenn was one of your dearest friends, family. You missed him more than anything, but... You couldn't have lived longer on this god forsaken, rotten world, if Negan would've chosen Daryl instead. It would've ripped you apart.

Daryl leaned over, rested his forehead against yours. "Yer strong. Ya can live and survive without me." You scoffed, lifting your hands again to cup his cheeks. "No, absolutely not – and we both know that. I think I need you more than you need me. You can easily survive without me, but I? No… My heart couldn't live without you, Daryl. It would die and decay... You are the survivor. I'm just lucky I've got you – and the others." Now he was the one who scoffed, but he also couldn't suppress the small smile on his lips at your loving words. "How do you do that, woman?" "Do what?" You asked, giggling softly. "Make me smile, even if I ain't got a reason ta smile." You giggled again, pecking his lips. "Love, Daryl, love." The archer smiled even wider and leaned in to kiss you properly. "Negan is going to pay for everything he did. I promise."

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #the walking dead fanfic

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graniairish · 3 years

Text

Walking on Eggshells – Part 2

Hello my dears. I just couldn't resist and had to write a second part. (maybe there will also be a part 3)

Pairing: Daryl x female! Reader

Words: 5159

Warnings: language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+ (my first attempt to write smut in English - hope it didn't get too bad)

Part one

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"Um ... what ..."

You stood in the door of your room, confused. Hershel had finally released you into "home care" after almost a week of continuous surveillance in the infirmary. In your opinion, the older man was exaggerating a little. You were fine, you had no dizziness, and the headache was gone. But that did not stop Hershel from telling you to take it easy anyway.

Your beloved work in the vegetable fields had to wait for the time being.

Somewhat reluctantly, you had agreed to everything, only to finally be able to go back to your own four walls. You wanted to sleep in your own bed again, even if it was just a simple Prison bed in the former director's office. But still, it was your home.

But you did not expect what you found there now.

As if rooted to the ground, you stood in the middle of the room and looked around with big eyes in disbelief.

Your room, your little private realm, should actually be here. But the room in front of you was no longer your room. Your things were still there, but they were not the only ones that filled the shelves on the walls.

The most noticeable change, however, was your bed. It was still in the far corner of the room, but it looked absolutely strange. Because right next to it there was now a second, and the way the sheet was stretched over it made it look like a double bed.

"I thought Hershel wouldn't release ya until tonight," you heard Daryl's deep voice behind you.

Still slightly confused, you turned to the archer. He stood uncertain in the doorway, Crossbow slung over his shoulder, hands clasped on the strap. His blue eyes were fixed on you as he chewed the inside of his cheek - his nervous tic.

And how this man was nervous right now, and it was not just his ears that betrayed him - which had just turned deep red.

Daryl did not expect to find you here now. He actually wanted to talk to you about it first and not just put you in front of a fait accompli. Though, somehow, he would have done it one way or another.

He was afraid he had done something wrong, crossed a line, or something like that.

"I couldn't take it there any longer."

Only now did you notice that his hair was wet and still dripping. Could it be that he had showered?

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod.

“I know we didn't talk about it,” he began uncertainly, “but Hershel said it would be better if someone took care of ya. And since there is no chance that ya will move back into the cell block, I thought that would be a good solution."

“That's right,” you had to smile, “I'm not going back there so quickly anymore. I like my privacy."

"Well, if it bothers you ... that I ... then ..."

"No no, I don't mind" you might answer a little too quickly, "I ... I was just ... surprised."

The man across from you felt instantly relieved. You, the woman he loved, wanted to live with him. He could hardly believe his luck.

Daryl took off his Crossbow and leaned it against the wall by the door before walking slowly towards you, his eyes full of love.

“Y/N/N we wasted so much time. I don't want to waste another minute. We don't know how much time we have left."

Daryl lovingly cupped your chin with two fingers while he gently touched your lips with his.

You could not help but melt into his touch. That you could do this now was still a miracle to you, and you would enjoy every single second of it to the full.

"But I sleep on the right side," you finally said with mischief in your eyes when your lips had separated.

"Forget it", Daryl snorted and went to the bed, "I'm sleepin’ between the door and ya."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Always the protector.

"Don't think I didn't see that."

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

A few weeks had passed since the incident during your run. You are now working side by side with Rick in the vegetable fields again. The plants were blooming and developing fantastically - and they would be very good yielding.

After a long shower to wash dirt and sweat from your body, you made your way to the inner courtyard of the prison, which was used as a canteen during the warmer months of the year. Dinner had just started, and so all residents, regardless of whether they were old or new, huddled together to have their meal together.

When Daryl returned from his shift at the Guard Tower, he spotted you chatting with Carol who was just distributing the food. He liked how carefree you looked at that moment.

Without thinking about it, he walked over to you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek before you had the chance to notice him.

"Yuck, don't do that," you giggled, "you're all sweaty."

"And hungry," he said with a grin.

Carol shook her head with a smile before filling two bowls and holding them out to you.

"Here take these, you lovebirds."

Taking the bowls Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and went with you to the table where Glenn and Maggie were already sitting.

You had not noticed how your loving and familiar way of dealing with each other had been uncomfortable for some - or at least for one.

Michelle was sitting at a table with several other Woodbury residents and had been watching you with narrowed eyes. Green with envy, she got up at some point and went back to the cell block where she lived.

But Carol had noticed, and she would move heaven and earth to keep this woman from disrupting your relationship.

Little by little, Rick and the other members of your sworn family joined you to enjoy the meal together and to end the day.

"We should slowly start bringing our supplies up to date," Rick skillfully changed the subject.

That was his less than subtle way of reducing the conversation to necessities.

"Or in other words, time for a run," Daryl said in a nutshell.

“Tightly sealable preserving jars would be important. It will soon be harvest time and we have to preserve the fruit and vegetables. Thank God we have a lot more than we need right now."

That was the first thing that came to your mind. After all, it was important to have vitamins in winter too. Even if cooked fruit and vegetables were nowhere near as tasty as fresh ones. But in those times, you were grateful for everything. And in winter, fruit and vegetables were actually a luxury.

“We should also think about how to heat the buildings. The winter could last longer than we'd like”, Daryl expressed his concerns.

"If we had animals, pigs or goats, maybe even sheep, we would be better supplied with meat."

Hershel had always been a farmer, and you could only agree with the man with a smile.

"Or chickens," said Maggie with a dreamy look, "once again a real roast chicken, that would be something nice."

"Or turkey," you added.

"I just think you can't find something like that on the next street corner," said Glenn, who now leaned over the map that Rick had spread out in the middle of the table.

"Well, the weekly cattle market will probably be canceled."

Daryl's cynical response made you roll your eyes.

"If ya keep doin’ this, these things will eventually get stuck," he said in your direction with a raised index finger.

"That's what my grandmother always meant," you said with a shrug, "and nothing has happened so far."

“You both sound like an old married couple. Really disgusting”, Carl shook himself.

You and Daryl looked at each other questioningly for a moment before you slapped the boy lightly on the back of the head at the same time - he on the right and you on the left.

For about five seconds there was absolute silence at the table, until everyone started laughing uproariously as if on command - except for Carl, who was rubbing his head tightly.

“What that would prove,” Rick grinned as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “but seriously now. Does anyone have any ideas?"

“I know there was a farm supply center in the south. From seeds to packaging material to combine harvesters, everything was there. The only question is whether that still stands."

Hershel leaned over the map and pointed to an area southeast of the Prison.

“That's a good hundred miles, and only if you drive on the main roads. It will be a run for several days on back roads."

Your stomach cramped painfully at Glenn's words. You knew that Daryl would go on the run. Unfortunately, since the incident, it had become very clear to you that there was no assurance that someone would come back from a run. And the thought that something might happen to Daryl made you uneasy.

“While we're there, we might as well stop by this huge warehouse complex 30 miles to the east. I think there are still some useful things there. "

Glenn glanced at the place on the map Maggie was pointing with her finger.

"Wasn't that an Amazon warehouse?"

"Yea, why are you asking?"

"Well, I think that this time it won’t work with overnight express."

At Glenn's stupid saying you had to smile, like everyone else. Though yours was more of a bitter smile. This run would certainly not be overnight.

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

"Everythin’ okay? Ya are never that quiet."

It was getting late. The moon was shining through the windows of your shared room and you could hear the crickets outside. You were snuggled close to Daryl, your head on his shoulder, your legs intertwined. You stared in silence into the darkness of your room, which was only faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

Daryl gently stroked your back. Usually there was something incredibly calming about it, and it never took you long to fall asleep relaxed - but not today. The worries about what could go wrong with the run did not let you calm down that night.

In a few hours he would be gone with Maggie and Glenn, as well as a few others. The fear of losing him paralyzes your thoughts.

"Ya don’t sleep. I know that. I can hear ya thinkin’."

You did not answer, just took a deep breath - in and out again. What should you say?

> I'm afraid something will happen to you <

> I'm scared of losing you <

> Please don't go <

There was nothing to be said, just that nagging feeling was there. This fear that the man by your side could suddenly be snatched away from you.

Daryl put his arm around you and hugged you tight as he kissed the top of your head and let his lips linger there for a moment.

"We're a well-coordinated team," he finally began as he leaned his head against yours, "and it's not the first time we've done such a big tour."

It almost seemed as if Daryl had read your mind, yet all his confidence could not take away your worries.

"I promise I'll come back to ya."

"You can't promise that Daryl."

The archer released his hug and shifted his weight so that you were eventually half under him. Leaning on his left arm, he looked down at you, the contours of your face only faintly visible in the light of the darkness.

"I promise I will come back to ya Y/N. We both have our whole lives ahead of us, and I don't intend to miss a second of it."

"Nobody knows ..."

But you did not get any further, Daryl's lips were instantly on yours. At first the kiss was deep and full of longing, but after a while it became more and more hungry. Your fingers ran through his hair and played with them on the back of his neck while your tongues fought for dominance.

As Daryl's hands slowly moved down your ribs, your lips parted for a much-needed breath.

Right at the beginning of your relationship, you discussed that sex would not be an issue for you for the time being. After what had happened to Lori, Daryl simply could not and did not want to take the risk of pregnancy. Condoms were not to be found for a long time. And neither of you wanted to play Russian roulette - like Maggie and Glenn.

But there were other ways of showing how much you loved each other, how much you wanted each other - other ways of having fun together.

Daryl's right hand went down to your ass, which he gripped tightly as he pulled you close.

You moaned softly as you could feel him rubbing his growing erection on your most sensitive spot. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. An approving growl left his mouth as he left hot kisses on your neck, making sure to suck the spot that caused your thighs to tighten around him.

You ran your trembling fingers through his hair, trying to hold onto the feeling of his lips against your skin.

The hand on your ass eventually moved down the back of your thigh - as he pulled it closer - which changed the angle of your pelvis significantly. The lustful moan that came out of your lips as you rubbed against him only made him harder against the layers of clothing.

God how good it felt for him when you took your pleasure into your own hands. But you did not get far, because Daryl's kisses slowly wandered further down. A pleasant shiver ran through you.

You knew exactly what he was up to and the anticipation made you almost impatient.

But he took his time, first freed you from your shirt and then devoted himself to your nipples with relish - first the right, then the left - until they were both hard and upright.

The longing feeling in your most private place became more and more unbearable and in an attempt to get some friction, you tried to rub yourself against his thigh.

Daryl only chuckled.

"Impatient, are we?"

Daryl's kissed down your stomach before leaning back. He was now kneeling between your legs. For a moment he soaked up the picture in front of him, burned it into his memory. How you laid in front of him, lower lip between your teeth, breathing heavily, your legs spread, the unmistakable traces of your arousal on your underwear.

A moan came from your lips as he finally ran his hands up the inside of your thighs. Without touching the place where you needed him most, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and freed you from this annoying piece of fabric with one flowing movement.

The sight the archer now saw made his cock twitch painfully.

It was almost like torture how slowly he ran his thumb through your folds and collected what already glistened there.

With faltering breath, you watched him as he slowly brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb clean with an animalistic growl.

You came almost instantly at the sight.

When he finally sank his middle finger into you, you threw your head back and closed your eyes in delight. He pumped his finger into you a few times before adding a second. He twisted and curled them in just the right way so that with each thrust he perfectly hit the spot inside you that made you squirm under him.

Your moaning grew louder as he closed his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and began to suck rhythmically. Your orgasm rolled closer and closer, and the knot in your stomach tightened until it was about to snap.

"Daryl - fuck - I ..."

"then let go - for me."

And that was exactly what you did. You came with his name on your lips, repeated like a prayer, and with each new wave Daryl took whatever you were willing to give him. You tasted like nothing else to him, and he could never get enough of you.

He slowly kissed his way back up to your neck while his fingers were still moving slowly inside you.

Your hands went into his hair and hungrily drawn his lips to yours. Just a moment later your tongues fought for dominance; you could taste yourself on his. Now your hands slowly made their way down to his crotch. He wanted to hold back. But he could not help himself, and grinded into your palm to find the relief he needed so damn bad.

Daryl's hips spasmed, thrusting forward a few times before he was groaning and shaking his head.

"No. Tonight is just about ya."

"But ..."

Before you could go on, his lips were back on yours in a demanding kiss.

" I wanna make ya feel so good today, that ya'll be happy to have a few days off."

And with that statement, his fingers left your hot core, only to re-enter with one more.

Your eyes rolled back when you felt him stretch you.

"Fuck," you hissed as you tried desperately to find hold while Daryl's fingers kept trusting into you.

As he felt the sweet pain of your nails scratching his back, his cock twitched painfully in his shorts.

The thought that you marked him, that you would let him run around with declarations of your love on his body for the next few days, almost drove him mad. He started rubbing his crotch against your thigh for some relief as he fluidly moved in and out of you, getting you closer and closer to your next release.

The knot inside you got tighter and tighter, and you tried desperately to keep it from snaping again. Your legs started to shake involuntarily, and you knew you would not be able to resist much longer. Your breath came in shorter intervals and your moans got higher and higher. It would not last long till you would be swept away by pure bliss.

When the wave finally hit you, it was an overwhelming feeling. Your inner walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers again and again as your orgasm swept you away like a tsunami.

It took you a few moments to come back from your high while Daryl's gentle movements of his fingers let your orgasm slowly fade out.

"Okay", you began with a trembling voice as he slowly left your inner core, "that was something else."

Daryl’s head rested on the crook of your neck as you slowly recovered your breath, but you could still feel him chuckled lightly.

Slowly you stroked his hair and patted his neck. When he shifted his position slightly so that he did not crush you any further, you noticed that his shorts were suspiciously stuck to you.

Apparently, he had enjoyed this whole interaction too.

"I love you," you whispered before leaving a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

"Love ya more."

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

You patiently worked your way through the corn plants with the rake. The work was strenuous because the plants were close together - after all, you needed the greatest possible yield in a small area - and the relentless Georgian sun burned down on you.

Your hair stuck to you and the sweat kept dripping from the brim of your straw hat. Your arms ached, and despite the leather gloves you wore, you had blisters on your hands where they were tightly gripping the wooden handle of your gardening tool.

But despite everything, you kept working. You had to work through the soil so that the weeds had less chance to dispute the valuable nutrients from the crops.

This large field that you had laid out in the style of the "three sisters" was your whole pride. Corn, beans and pumpkins, the holy trinity of this bed, were perfectly coordinated. The Native Americans had already cultivated these three plants in this way.

And what worked for them could work for you too.

You have been toiling for hours. Your clothes were soaked in sweat and your back ached. Nevertheless, you continue to work, moving slowly but steadily through the beds.

"Here," you heard Rick say behind you at some point.

With great effort you straightened up and massaged your back. You felt every single vertebra as it slowly popped back into its original position. An exhausted moan could be heard as you finally turned to the man behind you.

Rick just stood there, bottle of water in hand, his eyes fixed on the fields.

You gratefully took the bottle from him and took a few sips of the refreshing liquid. Especially with such sweaty work in the blazing sun, it was incredibly important to drink enough if you did not want to suffer sunstroke.

And unfortunately, you were predestined to forget it sometimes. But Rick paid attention. You were family, and family looked after each other.

“Looks really good. If the plants continue to grow like this, we will be able to bring in quite a good yield. You are really a talented little farmer."

You looked at him in surprise with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not sure right now whether I should thank you or whether you insulted me."

“Believe me Y/N”, Rick laughed and put his hand on your shoulder, “that was meant as a compliment. An honest compliment. If we didn't have you, we almost certainly wouldn't even be able to harvest half as much. You really have a knack for it."

“Well, everyone does what they can. And I can do that."

You lowered your gaze. You felt uncomfortable when someone complimented you, so you tried to belittle it.

"No", Rick smiled at you friendly, "some do more than others."

After a long day of work and a long - but cold - shower, you sat down with Carol for dinner. You missed your family members. You missed Daryl.

The presence of the older woman had been a comfort to you in the last few days. This run had been going on for five days now, and it was impossible to tell when they would be back.

The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach was almost the same as when Daryl had disappeared into the forest with Merle. Back then you thought you would never see him again.

But it was different now. Now you had hope that you would see him again.

Maybe.

“It's only been five days Y/N/N. It's too early to worry,” Carol tried to cheer you up.

"I'm not worried," you said stubbornly while you continued to stare at your now cold food.

"Yes of course. That's exactly why you've been poking around in your meal for ten minutes. You haven't even taken a bite."

You looked tiredly at the woman across from you.

“Eat, you worked hard. And tomorrow you will work as hard again as I know you. You need the calories. And believe me, you'd rather eat it voluntarily than have me cram it into you."

Carol had used her best mother voice. Even if Carol was not many years older than you, this woman had somehow become a mother's substitute for you.

After a few moments you finally began to empty your bowl slowly.

Getting around the days was easy. There was always enough work in the gardens and in the fields, you were busy and did not have much time to think.

In the nights it was different. They were bad.

The bed was way too big for you alone, and you lacked the warmth of Daryl's body.

Even on the hot nights of Georgia, you always fell asleep snuggled together. Ever since you had spent your first night like this, you knew that you could never do it again without it.

Now you were alone. Yet again. Daryl was still on this fucking run, and the solitude in those four walls that you had always enjoyed before, now seemed overwhelming to you.

What is he doing right now? Was he okay? Was he thinking of you, too?

With these wistful thoughts, you finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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

"If they are not back by tomorrow, we will send a search party out," announced Rick over breakfast.

You made no reply as you continued to choke down your small portion of porridge, bite by bite. You were not really hungry, but Carol's stern look had kept you from skipping breakfast.

“I'm sure they are fine. They will definitely be back here soon, "said Hershel soothingly," they are all experienced with such actions. They are sure to be fine."

Yes, they were all experienced, knew how to behave and how to protect themselves, but that nagging feeling persisted in you.

You had spent the whole morning working in the fields again, laboriously dragging buckets of water to provide the crops with enough moisture. If it did not rain soon, this would probably be your main occupation for the next few days and weeks.

You had two canisters tied to the outer end of a thick wooden stick. So, you could carry the heavy burden on your shoulders and not in your aching hands.

As you were trudging up the hill again with a full load of water, Rick was leaning against the base of the central guard tower, smiling, and staring into the distance.

"Looks as if we could save ourselves the search."

These words made your body tingly and you immediately turned to face the gates. You could not prevent an unspeakably bright smile from spreading on your face.

"Oh my god," you whispered when you saw the column of cars approaching the prison.

An unmistakable chopper at the head of the convoy.

An army of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw Daryl. He was back. He really came back to you.

When he finally brought his bike to a stop and casually dismounted it, you couldn't hold back any longer. Without further hesitation, you dropped the water canisters, which hit the floor with a thud, and immediately spread their moist contents over the floor.

You ran quickly towards Daryl. But even before you had covered half the distance, he was already coming towards you - a radiant smile on his lips.

When you finally met, you immediately put your arms around each other in a tight hug. Your head rested on his chest while he laid his head lovingly on top of yours.

Cuddled so tightly you could hear how fast his heart was beating, and an indescribable feeling of happiness flooded your body. Daryl was back - back by your side.

"Did you miss me," he finally began, and you could hear him grinning right away.

“No,” you answered, “not at all. Not one bit."

“Felt the same way."

With these words, his strong arms tightened around you even more, as if he were trying to melt into you.

So absorbed in your reunion, it took some time until you noticed that Rick and Carol were already discussing the successful run with the rest of the group.

"We got almost everything," you heard Glenn say when you had finally separated from each other and now went to the cars where everyone else was standing - your little fingers still hooked together.

"We found hundreds of canning jars and even seeds," added Sasha.

"Wheat, oat and a lot more." Maggie pointed to the back of the overcrowded pickup truck.

"And we also solved the problem with the heating," said Daryl mysteriously.

This run was really a complete success. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

Suddenly the gushing and loud greeting was silent. Inquiring eyes met knowing faces.

You and Rick looked at each other as to ask if you really had heard this now.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

"What the hell is that", Rick wanted to know.

"What did it sound like?"

Daryl grinned mischievously and leaned casually against his bike; arms crossed over his chest. His chin raised challengingly.

"No," was all you could say at that moment.

"Yea," Daryl nodded, still grinning.

"No way!"

"Yea, a rooster and six chickens."

"How? Where? How?"

You were completely surprised and had to grin broadly. That was one of the best that could have happened to your community.

"Believe it or not, they were just walking around on a street corner," Glenn explained, looking incredulous about his statement himself.

"So the cattle market wasn't closed after all," you replied sarcastically.

Immediately Daryl had to roll his eyes.

"Just don't start with that," you chuckled and gave him a playful clap on the upper arm.

“You really missed something Y/N,” said Maggie with a grin, “believe me it was really impressive to see how Daryl caught the poultry. Didn't know that he was doing so well as a farmer."

"Yea, ha-ha, very funny!"

Daryl's ears had turned deep red, but then he had to laugh himself at the thought of this chicken-catching operation.

"I really would have liked to see that," you said with a laugh.

"Well, maybe there will be a repetition," said Glenn, "we have to get the critters out of the car somehow without them getting lost again."

"Ya can forget that right away," Daryl announced in a stern voice.

"Don't worry, I'll help you", you smiled at your boyfriend.

After a few minutes of reunion, you started to get the supplies out of the cars and to distribute them in the storage rooms.

Building a chicken coop was definitely on your to-do list for tomorrow. And it has been a long time since you had been looking forward to a job as much as this.

"And I found something for you too," Maggie whispered to you when she put her arm around your shoulders in a friendly manner.

You two had just cleared away a load of canning jars and were about to trot back to the cars.

"And that would be?"

Surprised you stopped and looked at her questioningly. You did not ask her to get you anything.

“I won't tell you yet,” she smiled, “but you will definitely enjoy it - as well as Daryl."

With these words, your best friend left you in the yard as she made her way back to the cars with a mischievous grin.

Part one Part tree

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