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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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My man 😔💘

Long Time Coming - Daryl Dixon x FEM!reader

Synopsis: Reader and Daryl have been together for a long time, but have never been able to have sex. 3.8k words

minors dni/18+

Warnings: smut, fluff. So much praise! Oral f!receiving. Protected sex (kinda? they use a condom but it's expired bc duh). Daryl cums fast. I've never written smut before, I've never published anything either so go easy on me. Probably OOC Daryl. Not great writing, sorry.

“It’s quiet,” Daryl starts from his position on the couch, one of his legs propped up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, it’s a little unsettling. Even back in the prison there was always growling, or Beth singing, or Carol snoring all night,” you joke lightly mimicking her snores. You plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned into him, making him put an arm around your shoulders. “It feels safe though, yeah? Safest I've felt since the outbreak at least,” you wonder out loud, trying to gauge his feelings of your new home.

“Yeah, I guess,” he pauses. “Just feels like I'm waiting for the shoe, y'know.”

“The other shoe?” You ask, laying your hand on his knee, glancing up at him.

“Mhm, waitin’ for the shoe to drop.”

You hum in understanding. “I think. . .” you trailed off thinking of your next words carefully, “I think, there’s no use in just sittin around and waiting. Maybe we should enjoy what we have, while we have it.”

He sat up and turns to look at you like you were crazy. “And what? What about when these picket fence bastards decide we’re not good enough, we don’t contribute enough, or whatever the hell other reason they decide is fit enough to throw us to the wolves? We just let them blindside us?” he seemed incredulous.

“No, honey, of course not. I’m just saying,” you take a deep breath trying to make sure you are clear. “This is maybe our last chance, our only chance, to live a life without running from the dead every damn day. We got used to that, it was, or maybe it still is, our new normal, but this can be too.”

“I understand, sweetheart, I'm just. . .” he trails off.

“Nervous? On edge?” you finish for him after a moment.

“You could say that,” he answers, picking up a cup of water off the coffee table, taking a sip, and sitting it back down, then leaning back onto the couch and throwing an arm over your shoulder again.

“I know. You run for your life, hunker down in empty houses, broke down cars, and caves for lord knows how long. Next thing you know, someone offers you not only a home, but a house? To ourselves? And food, water, walls and defenses, plus people patrolling 24/7? It’s a big change, but this is the safest we’ve been for a while. I just think we should enjoy it while we can. We can stay on edge, sleep with a gun under our pillow or whatever, but we should enjoy what we have while we have it. We can live here for a while, when shit hits the fan we can run, like we always have.”

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right, y/n,” he admits, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Kinda boring though, innit? This whole ‘american dream’ life.”

You glanced at him and saw a small smile. “Boring?” you giggle, “I can think of something to entertain us.” You slide your hand from your lap over to his, putting your hand back on his knee and sliding it half way up his thigh.

“Yeah? What’s that sweetheart?” He questions innocently, but you can see the way his cheeks are redder than earlier, and you can see the way he looks at your lips.

You jumped up and offered him your hand with a wink, “Come with me and I'll show you.”

“Don’ need to ask me twice,” he jumped to his feet, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him up the stairs and into the bathroom. You open the door with your spare hand and spin around pulling at his shirt and winking at him.

“Oh I get it, you just want to see me naked, don’ ya?” Daryl teased, pulling his t-shirt off.

“You know I do, baby,” you flirted, grabbing his naked waist and pulling him closer for a moment, before pushing him away and leaning over to start the water, Daryl taking the opportunity to smack your ass. You giggle and turn around with your finger pointed, ready to scold him jokingly, but he grabs your hips before you can. He yanks you into his chest and kisses you hard, trying to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“At least let me get in the shower first, you horny bastard!” You laugh at him and pull away, yanking your shirt over your head and pulling your pants down and off. You feel the water to test its temperature and upon deciding it warm enough, you turn around to see him still in his pants. You reach towards his belt and pull on it, “You joining? Or are you gonna stand there and watch?”

“I’m happy to watch but I’d much rather join,” he responds, watching you step into the warm water. He tugs his belt undone and his pants down while you turn and let the water run over you.

Truth is, you were a little nervous, you knew what you were initiating. Sure you’d spent most of the apocalypse together, started ‘dating’ not long after arriving at the prison. Though you’d never officially talked labels, it’s been long assumed, by you and the rest of the group, that you were together. So, you’ve been ‘together’ a long time, but despite that you’d never really gone farther than oral or handjobs. If you’d had the time, then you hadn’t had the solitude. If you’d had the solitude, then you hadn’t had the safety. If you’d had the safety, then you hadn’t had the time. It had worked out fine, in the midst of the end of the world, sexual frustration wasn’t your biggest concern, you’d go as far as to say it wasn’t even in the top 15. This was your third night alone in Alexandria, your group had all slept in the same house for a while before gradually settling into your own.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this, huh?” you question, rubbing soap all over your body. You feel his arms wrap around you and pull your back to his chest, you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re sexier every time,” he whispers, nipping at your ear. His hands grab the fat of your hips and grip it to pull you even closer.

“Really? You don’t think I looked better when we were covered in walker guts and months of filth?” You tease him, pushing away and signaling for him to turn his back to you, and begin to clean his back with a soapy towel.

“You get prettier every day, Y/N, with or without running water,” he hums out, enjoying the soft scratch of the washcloth on his body. It had taken him a long time to get comfortable being this vulnerable, but years of relying on each other has built a trust unlike any other in his life. He trusts you fully, to see him wholly and unfiltered, who he truly was inside and out.

Once you both had been scrubbed you wrap your arms around his neck and push him against the wall. You brush your lips over his, testing the waters first. He grabs your face and spins you around, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth and pull him closer. His arms wind around your waist when his tongue slips into your mouth, your grasp the hair at the base of his neck tightly in your fingers when you feel his leg slot between yours.

You grind down on his leg and gasp, throwing your head back against the wall. He takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking little marks on your collar bones. You feel his hand slide from your waist up your torso to grab at your breast and your hands grab at the strong muscles of his back. He kneads your soft breast before rubbing your nipple with his thumb, he places sloppy kisses on the junction of your neck and down your shoulder. You whimper and grind harder on his leg when he pinches your nipple between his fingers, Daryl kisses back up your neck and puts his hands on either side of your face, pulling it to his to kiss it harshly.

“Please, Daryl, I want you,” you whimper against his lips, he hums into your mouth and slips his tongue into your mouth. “Daryl, please,” you whine as he willfully ignores your begging.

You keep kissing, clawing at his back with your short nails, just trying to pull him impossibly closer to you, his arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you down on his leg to help you grind harder against his knee. One of his arms abandons your waist to grab a fistful of your wet hair and he lets it tangle around his fingers, while he kisses you even deeper.

“You ready to get outta here, pretty girl?” He smirks at you. Before waiting for your answer he shuts the water off, grumbling about how you’re just gonna have to take another one later, and slides open the curtain. Daryl steps out and hands you a towel.

You rush past him into the bedroom, drying off and discarding your towel, then jumping on your shared bed. He walks in a few moments later, dropping the towel he had wrapped around his waist. You whistle at him teasingly, “How on earth did I get so lucky?”

He chuckles at you and sits on the bed beside your feet, running his hands up your calf, “I think I should be the one asking that, Y/N.” He crawls up to your body, pressing light kisses from your knees to your neck. If it weren’t for the lust in his eyes and the way he looks at you like you were prettiest damn woman he’s ever seen you might feel insecurity creeping in.

Daryl pecks your mouth, leaving you chasing his mouth until kisses back down your stomach, notching himself between your thighs. He peppers kisses all over the inside of your thighs, avoiding the one place you’re needing him the most. He finally caves, running his thumb up your slit, brushing away the soft hair that covers your cunt.

“You’re the sexiest damn woman I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, not giving you a chance to respond before he dives in, placing one long lick from your hole to your clit. The surprise movement leaves you gasping and squeezing his head between his thighs, which he softly pushes away. He does another long lick before focusing on your clit, alternating between gentle licks and circling it with his tongue. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, smiling when he hears you whimpering above him. He goes back to gentle licks and sucks, Daryl moves farther south until licking at our hole, he looks up at you for approval and instead sees a sight so beautiful he wonders what he did to deserve this. You, your back arched the perfect amount for him to see the soft expanse of your stomach leading to your breasts that were pushed into the air, one hand grasping clumsily at one of them, pulling at your nipple. With the image of you and your salty taste on his tongue he swore he could bust right then and there.

Daryl pushes his tongue into your hole, the mix of your wetness and his saliva creating a mess of your groin. He fucks his tongue into you, soft and steady.

It’s so much, his wet tongue sliding in and out of you, his hands gripping your thighs, his nose nudging your clit every now and then. It was too much and not enough. You gasp out, “Oh, my god, Daryl,” between your moans and heavy breathing. “D, you feel so good, I need more, please.”

He moves one hand from your thigh up to your mouth, pulling away to whisper, “suck on my fingers, baby.” You oblige, leaning forward eagerly to pull his thick fingers into your mouth and moan around them when he uses his other hand to squeeze your thigh. He fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth, coming up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue mingles with yours around his fingers. He pulls his fingers out and drops them to your cunt, using them to circle your clit, then sliding one inside of you, swallowing your gasps and moans in your shared kiss. He works his second finger into your pussy and abandons your lips to kiss down your chest, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth briefly, but then continuing all the way back to your clit. Your hands grasp at his hair and push his face into your cunt, his tongue going back to playing with your clit while his eyes flicker up to see yours squeezed shut and mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Your hands wind in his hair so you have something to hold on to, his tongue and fingers making your head swim. He could ask you anything right now and you’d do it in a heartbeat as long as he didn’t stop. His fingers stretched you open just right and the drag of his knuckles in your pussy had you gasping for air.

His fingers were fucking into you hard enough in just the right spot that you were breathless, gasping each time they hit that spot. He groaned against your cunt and it left you whining and grinding against him, his spare arm wrapped around your hips drawing you even closer and holding you still against his mouth. He pulled away from you, protests falling from your lips at his withdrawal, “You’re doin’ so good for me, Y/N, sound so fuckin’ pretty. Perfect little cunt too, you know how much I love eating your pussy, don’ ya, baby?’ He draws, pressing more kisses and sucking little marks against the sensitive parts of your thighs, while his fingers slowly thrust in and out of you. You hum in response, hands trying to pull his head back to where you want- no need him most. “I want you to tell me, Y/N, tell me what you want,’ He insists, his dark, brown eyes boring into yours.

“You- you know what I want, honey,” you reply, face heating up, suddenly feeling almost bashful at your desperation for your partner. He pulls his fingers out of you at your less-than-satisfactory response.

“Oh, I do, baby, trust me,” he insists. “But I need to hear you say it. I want to hear you. Don’t go getting shy on me now. There’s no reason to, I know you love when I give you head, you know how much I adore buryin’ my head between your sexy thighs, feeling them squeeze me while i devour you,” he pauses to slide his fingers back into you, smiling at your quiet moan. “Hell, you should see the mess my cock is makin’ down here, leaking all over the blanket I just washed. I’m humping the bed like a damn virgin while I’m tongue deep in your pussy, sweetheart. I can feel how close you are, clenchin’ like a vice on my fingers. Now I’d love to have you make a mess on my face, but I want you to tell me what you want first. No need in getting all bashful, sweetheart, we’ve been here a dozen times before. Want to see your pretty face when you tell me, too.”

You lean up on your elbows, head foggy with need. “Daryl, I need you to make me cum, make me- make me cum all over your face,” you manage to stutter out. “Then, I need you to fuck-” your words are interrupted by a broken gasp as he dives back in, licking and sucking at your clit for all his worth. Your arms give out from behind making you drop onto your back, arching it and trying to wriggle your hips against his hold and let out breathless praises for the man eating you out like his life depends on it.

“Fuck! Daryl, you make me feel so good,” you gasp out when he goes back to licking circles on your clit. His fingers are curling into you just right, his tongue is circling your clit perfectly, your mind is buzzing and all you can think about is him. You feel your orgasm creeping up, warmth building and muscles tightening. “I- I’m so close, I-, oh my god, just like that, baby. Fuck, Daryl, please!”

You let out more whimpers and moans, a few nearly incoherent begs, although what you were begging for was unclear, all you knew is that you were so, so close to cumming on the fingers of the man you loved more than anything. Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, which makes him groan into you and grind harder against the blanket under him, the vibrations of his groan make you buck your hips, so he tightens his hold on you. He was lapping at your cunt like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His fingers are pressing harder into you with every little thrust and you’re sobbing out as your orgasm finally washes over you. You can feel the pleasure wash over your body, making chills erupt all over you, the heat that’s been building in your core finally explodes and you’re shaking all over, back almost arching off the bed as he keeps lapping at you. You cunt is milking his fingers, legs shaking around his head as you moan out little gasps of his name. His fingers fuck you through the shock waves of your orgasm, but he doesn’t stop his movements. Your moans turn into little high pitched gasps when he pulls his fingers out of you once you stop pulsing around them, only to slide his tongue into your opening and fuck into you. It’s all too much, you can feel the rough drag of stubble on your soft inner thighs and his harsh grip on your ass as you come back down to reality. He finally lets up when you start to pull away from him and your grip on his hair loosens. He pulls away from you, his face glistening in the soft moon light peering in from the window. You grab at the back of his head and yank him into a rough kiss, tongues clash and the taste of your fluids on his lips and tongue make you moan into his mouth again.

“You’re too good for me, Daryl, honestly. You’re so good with your mouth, I’d let you eat me out for hours,” you breathlessly praise him once he pulls away to catch his breath, letting his forehead rest on yours.

“That can be arranged, darling,” he muses, starting to lower himself back to your pussy.

“No! No, not right now. I need you. I need more of you. I want your cock, please, Daryl,” you stutter, desperation fogging your brain. “Lay down, let me blow you.”

“No, sunshine, I’m not gonna last that long,” he insists, hissing when your hand wraps around his aching dick, using his own precum to stroke loosely. You reach into your bedside drawer for the condoms you had placed there a few days ago, they were past the expiration date, but it’s not like you can find any new ones any more, you had both decided you might as well try to use the protection.

“You sure?” You ask, looking at him with hooded eyes, licking your lips and ripping open the condom.

“Yes, Y/N,” he affirms. You slide the condom down his length and then use that hand to guide his cock to your entrance.

You can’t help but notice his shaky breath and the way his hands are shaking beside your head, “Daryl, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop now, we can go to bed, or I can jerk you off, if you’d rather wait.”

“I want to fuck ya, it’s just. . .” he trails off.

“Been a long time?” You finish for him. He nods to confirm your suspicion.

Before you can respond he begins to push into you, your pussy aching as he stretches you out, feeling every vein of his cock as it fills you up to the hilt. Above you, he’s grunting, arms damn near giving out as he rests most of his weight on you. He’s grunting into your ear, muttering a quiet “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he adjusts to the tightness of your pussy around him, as you grind and squeeze against him, your body begging for me.

“Hey, sunshine, look at me,” he’s leaning back to look you in the eye, once he got his bearings He brushes the hair out of your eyes, presses a kiss to your nose. “You feel good, better than I coulda imagined.”

“Please, Daryl.”

In lieu of a response, he crashes his lips on yours. Pulling out almost completely and pushing back in with a broken moan, your hand flies to his hair as he begins to rut into you. Short, fast thrusts that leave you gasping with your arms tight around his shoulders. He slows his pace when your nails start to scratch down his back. “I-I’m not gonna last long, y/n,” he moans, pulling all the way back and then thrusting back into you hard.

“That’s perfect, baby, please, that’s all I want. Jus’ want to make you feel good, yeah?” You pant out. Your legs wrapped tightly around him, his thrusts hitting so deep inside of you, you were seeing stars, his hips pushing flush against your own, you could feel his balls slap against your ass. He drops his head to kiss and suck on your neck, you tighten around him and reach down to rub our clit.

Daryl’s moans and thrusts get more erratic, a sign you know means he’s close. “Fuck, baby, I-” he gasps out.

“I know, I know, me too.”

“I’m sorry, you just feel so damn good-”

“Shut up and let me feel you cum inside of me,” you demand, your voice breathless and broken, he’s stretching you out so nicely and you’re rubbing fast, eager circles on our clit. “Oh- I- I’m cumming. Oh, my god, fuck! I love you so much, Daryl.”

The rhythmic squeezing of your tight pussy and your blissed out face sent him straight over the edge, he was grunting into you as you both rode out your highs.

Minutes later he was catching his breath, his legs shaking. “Was that worth the wait?” You joked. He laughed at you and slipped out, shaking his head at your sound of disappointment. Daryl pulled the condom off and threw it in the bin across the room.

In the morning he awoke before you, the sun shining across your pretty hair, he could see your relaxed face, your tits sticking out of the blanket. He wondered what he ever did to deserve this, to deserve you. He’d fight through a dozen apocalypses if it meant being with you.

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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I am OBSESSED With the Assassin’s Creed motherfucker parkouring around Paris in the opening ceremonies

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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WE ARE THE DEAD pt. II

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Runaway.

Before apocalypse

"God, wait." You stopped your brother as you were out of breath. Every morning Mathew would take you for a run. It was easy for Matthew since he was a marine. You though were a beginner to all this military stuff.

Matthew huffed and turned around. "You okay?" He truly did not want you to have another panic attack. "You sure you want to be a soldier?" You looked up from the ground. "Yes!" You instantly shouted; Matthew was slightly taken back.

"Then act like a soldier, stop slacking off." Matthew said before he tuned and started to jog. You looked at the ground you were sitting on before gaining some energy and started to jog. By the time Matthew got to the farm, you still had 3 km left.

When you finally made it, Matthew stood at the gate with a disappointed look. "You aren't ready for the army." Matthew said and you quickly went into defense. "I am." He scoffed. "You aren't! Accept that." Matthew finished before walking away.

The next day

You watched Matthew get ready to run again and quickly wore your shoes. "You're not going." He said, you looked up. "That's not your decision." You got up and started to walk to the gate. Matthew sighed deeply behind her before following her.

The run started good; the siblings ran next to each other. Then 30 minutes in, you started to feel the burn but you sure were not going to stop and prove Matthew right. That you weren't ready for the military.

Matthew panted next to you but continued to jog. Soon enough, the jog was done, and the siblings found themselves back at the farm gate. Matthew smiled and turned to you. "I guess I was wrong." You turned to him with a scowl.

"You were." You pushed the gate open and walked up. Matthew laughed and followed after her. It officially has been 20 days since you last did that. Since then, Matthew changed the schedule and made you work out around the farm.

*Dragging the tractor's tire across the field

*Mostly eating vegetables and meat on the side

*Squatting with Maggie/Beth on your back

*Using buckets of water as dumbbells

*etc,etc

Present

Both you and Matthew jogged around the farm, making sure not to bump into Rick's group. You were told that Hershel kicked Otis out when he found out that he killed him. Rick truly tried convincing Hershel to let Shane not to. Though that went on deaf ears.

Once they finished, an RV came to the farm. The siblings opened the gate for the car and a bike followed after. And on the bike was none other than......"Darl Dixon." You called out with smirk; you were sort of in disbelief.

The man on the bike turned his head to you and his face fell in shock. "Y/N? What the hell are ye' doin' here?" You chuckled and gestured to Matthew. "Came back from the army and the next thing I know it's the end of the world."

Daryl nods in agreement but doesn't say anything. "It's good to see ye." Daryl started his bike again and started to not so subtly check you out. You caught on and looked down with red cheeks. "It's good to see you too." You looked up again and Daryl smiled a little.

Matthew looked at the two of you before glaring at Daryl. Daryl just looked away and followed where the RV went. Matthew looked at you and you looked at him with an innocent face. "What?" You asked and Matthew started to walk to the farmhouse.

"You are such a horn dog." He started and you scoffed. "As if, may I name the times I found women walking out our house?" Matthew froze and turned with a glare. "Don't. You. Dare." He said and you zipped your mouth.

"I didn't know you were into black chicks actually." You both stated to walk again to the farmhouse. "I didn't know you were into men with gruff voices but a soft side." Matthew nudged you and you only smiled.

"The voice turns me on, and the soft side is just cute." You explained and Matthew only shook his head as you both soon entered the farmhouse. The siblings showered, ate before they started to do chores around the farm.

"Y/N" Matthew called out; you looked up from the hay. "Daryl's here for ya." You turned to see Daryl walking over to you. You wiped your hands on you pants and waited for him to stop in front of you. "Hey." You greeted, crossing your arms.

"Hi." His gruff voice was somehow soothing to you. "Was wonderin' if ya wanna help me find Sophia." Sophia was a missing girl from the group, she had separated from her group when they were at a highway. You heart clenched at the mention of the child.

You nod and hug Matthew goodbye before leaving to the woods with Daryl by your side. You guys soon found a building in the middle. You personally found it sketchy at first but your heart and hopes that Sophia would be in there.

You nodded for Daryl to open the door, but he froze in the doorway. "What?" You mumbled in confusion, but you also froze when you saw Shane in the inside of the building. "What the hell you guys doin' here?" Shane asked, pointing his shotgun directly at Daryl's head.

"Sophia." Daryl muttered, standing in front of you protectively. "Come on." Shane called out to someone but sure wasn't you and Daryl. A blonde girl came from Shane's back, and you saw Daryl's shoulders sag slightly. You guessed that was Sophia.

"Daryl!" Sophia ran to the man and clinged next to him just like she did behind Shane. You sighed in relief that the child was in much more safer hands. Shane had some crazed look in his eyes as his eyes drifted to you.

"I did what I had to do." You only nodded in slight understanding. God in this world there was a lot of things people needed to do. In the army, you had to kill someone for your country. Shane nodded and lowered his shotgun.

"Thanks." He whispered, still staring at you. You softly smiled and nodded but God knew there was a boiling anger in you about Otis is death. You stepped back so Daryl could get out of the doorway. As soon as you did, Daryl looked over Sophia's body for injuries. "Sprained ankle." Shane informed, still keeping his eyes on you.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Sophia turned to him and grabbed her teddy that was near his foot. "Come on." She encourages Shane, taking her small hand in his. Shane shook his head and shook his hand out of hers. "Ain't welcome."

You bit your lip and looked down. You thought long and hard before you looked up at Shane. "You can come back." Daryl turned to you with a 'are you crazy' face. Honestly, you were shocked at your own words.

"You sure?" You thought Daryl said that, but when you looked, Daryl had Sophia on his back, and he was already walking away. Shane took a duffel bag from the ground and followed after Daryl. You snapped out of your thoughts and followed after the man.

"I understand. It's a different world than before." You said, trying to keep up with the man and his long strides. Shane didn't answer, but you could hear his thoughts. They were loud and vicious. You opted to stay quiet on the rest of the walk.

A few minutes later and you start to hear some groans and moans. You gripped your colt that was still in its holster. "You hear that?" You whispered to Shane, hoping that you weren't going crazy.

The man only hummed and raised his shotgun as he looked around. Soon enough, there was a walker. Shane only scoffed and walked towards it. He killed it with a knife he had before another one popped up.

Then another and another, soon there was a whole herd. Shane's eyes widened before he ran to the direction of the farm. You quickly followed after as well as Daryl that had Sophia in her arms.

The herd was miles away when the group found their way back to the farm. You continued to run, even if you were at the farm. Soon, Matthew stopped you and tackled you down. "Get off me!"

You pushed and shoved him, but he didn't budge. "What the fuck happened?!" He asked, pushing you down on the dirt. "Walkers. A group of them. Hundreds, maybe even thousands."

Matthew went off of you and quickly picked you up. "Pops came back. Let's pack and warn the others." The two of you nodded to each other before going different ways.

You went to a truck and checked for fuel. Made sure it was full before going to a shed. Inside, it was filled with food and weapons. You took five duffel bags and packed everything inside before putting the duffel bags at the back of the trunk.

Matthew threw you an AK. You holstered it around your shoulder before you glanced at the farmhouse where Hershel stood. You walked over to him in confusion. "What are you doing? There's a herd coming."

Hershel only shook his head. "I'm not coming with you. This is my farm and I will die with my farm." You scoffed at his stubbornness. "I'm not letting you do that. "You are." Your father said before picking you up and taking you to the truck.

"Hey!" You kicked and shoved but to no vale. You got shoved unto the truck before he slammed it shut and got into the driver's seat. You stared at the farm in shock as your father started to drive, and Matthew sat at the back.

Soon, you were on a dirt road, heading nowhere. You didn't get to say goodbye. To Maggie, Beth, Daryl, or Patricia. You guys just up and left. Not knowing if they will ever live.

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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Ground Rules

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, just two first time parents trying to figure it out

Summary: Much to your dismay your shared child seems to take after Mac and his curious ways. You had heard the stories about his unique childhood and if you didn’t get it under control soon, your daughter was bound to follow right in his foot steps.

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had first started dating Mac there had never really been any rules. It wasn’t until you moved in together you finally had to put some in place. You had tripped over one to many contraptions and been a little too close to some minor explosions that had you deciding on no experiments in the house. After a minor fight he finally agreed and Mac followed that rule to the best of his abilities and you appreciated him for it.

What you had never expected was having a kid just like him. You don’t know why it never crossed your mind that it was possible for your child to have Mac’s intelligence. To be honest you wished you would’ve and you could’ve prepared yourself for all that was to come with a curious mind desperate to learn. You had heard all those stories about Mac when he was a kid, blowing up football fields and smoking out labs, but none of it ever really felt real until now. They finally felt real because your daughter had now taken it upon herself to do science experiments anywhere she can.

You had left for only ten minutes. That was it. Ten peaceful minutes to go out and do some minor yard work. She was reading a Nancy Drew book on the couch when you left but when you had returned, the eight year old girl had covered the kitchen in what looked like some sort of green foam. It takes your mind only a second to go haywire, panic setting in, fear of chemicals, and misdirected anger at your husband.

“Jackie! What is going on?” you rush towards her, making quick work of pulling her away from the mess.

“Elephant toothpaste, I saw it on TV and Dad told me how to make it” you were sure smoke was steaming out of your ears by now. As proud as you were for how smart your daughter was, these actions could become hazardous.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what exactly is in elephant toothpaste?” you ask as calmly as you can, keeping your voice even as if to not scare her off.

“Hydrogen peroxide, yeast, dish soap, water, and food coloring for some fun!” she claps excitedly, eyeing that very mixture on the kitchen counter. Now calming over the harmless ingredients you look at where she has some foam now stuck in her curly blonde hair.

“All that made a huge mess in my kitchen?” you ask, reaching for a dish towel and wiping away as much as you can in her hair.

“Well I tripled the recipe for a bigger explosion” she says as if the sentence alone doesn’t make your heart stutter. Letting out a deep sigh you stand back up and start to guide her to the bathroom.

“You definitely are you father’s daughter” you mutter, hands squeezing her shoulders.

“You should’ve seen it Mom, it was huge!” she cheers excitedly as you start down the hallway.

“Let’s get you in the bath” you tell her and she just smiles wide, clearly content with what she had just accomplished and you now had to clean up.

Once filling the tub with warm water you help your daughter step out of her elephant toothpaste splattered dress and into the bath. Offering her a bath bomb she keeps her curious mind occupied as you step out and figure out how to prepare yourself for the cleaning you had ahead of you.

“What happened here?” you find your blonde husband with an amused smile on his face, eyes scanning the green foam.

“Someone decided to make elephant toothpaste, have any idea where she got that from?” you ask crossing your arms and Mac looks up to find you are not as amused as him in this situation.

“Shit baby I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d actually attempt it, much less inside the house” he says walking over to you and you sigh, trying your best to not place all the blame on him.

“It’s fine, I just have to figure out how to clean it now” you say, hands reaching up to push the hair out of your face. It had already been a long day and the last thing you needed was this.

“It’s okay, I got it. I’ve done elephant toothpaste a time or two” he says, hands reaching to squeeze each of your arms, and you offer a weak smile.

“She’s gonna be trouble, just like you” you say with an accusing finger and Mac smiles before pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Maybe, but at least I know how to handle it. When I was blowing things up I never had anyone who understood me” Mac says and you give him a panicked look.

“I didn’t say anything about blowing things up” you tell him, head beginning to shake and Mac quickly stops you.

“I know but I happened to remove an entire football field once in my life. Maybe I can keep hers contained to a small park or something” he teases but you give him a stern look that says you’re not ready to joke about this just quite yet.

“How about no explosions and no more experiments in our home?” you say and Mac clearly mulls it over. You know he wants to cater to his daughter’s curious mind, provide her with every opportunity he could to learn, but could that be done at the expense of your kitchen?

“One explosion and experiments in the yard?” he counter offers and you sigh.

“No explosions and experiments small enough to not alert neighbors in the yard” you finalize and he nods with a grin.

“I can accept that” he says before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now where’s our little scientist, I want to applaud her”

“She’s taking a bath, you can say hi after you clean up this mess” you tell him, hands pressing against his chest and in the direction of the green foam.

“And what about you?” he asks, a small pout to his lips and you slowly press a kiss to them. The pout gone in seconds.

“I’m going to help her out of the bath and then we’re going to set some rules” you tell him and he nods, saluting you as you walk back to the bathroom to find Jackie hadn’t even washed her hair yet.

It’s only an hour later you finally have the small girl in fresh pajamas, damp hair combed, and sat between you and Mac on the couch. The Nancy Drew book from before is open on her lap and you finally give Mac a look to tell him it’s time to set some rules and create boundaries for her.

“Jackie honey?” you coo, fingers reaching to push away the book for a moment.

“Yeah Mom?” she says, half distracted and trying to chase the page as it moves away from her.

“We wanted to talk to you about your little experiment today” you tell her and Mac nodded, blue eyes finding his daughter’s matching ones.

“Yeah honey, just a quick chat” and at her father’s words she finally closes the book on her lap.

“We love that you enjoy learning new things. It’s amazing the things you already understand, but we need to set some rules” you tell her and a sad look flashes across her features in seconds.

“You made a big mess today, one that worried your Mom. So there can’t be anymore experiments in the house” Mac says and the girls is instantly defeated, a gasp leaving her mouth.

“But Dad, it was just elephant toothpaste. It wasn’t dangerous!” she whines and Mac shakes his head, staying firm and on your side.

“Yeah but your Mom didn’t know that. So there is going to be no more experiments in this house unless approved and supervised by one of us” he tells her and her lip instantly quivers as her arms cross over her chest.

“But you and Dad can do as many experiments in the yard as you want and he’s also agreed to bring you to his lab at work once a week to learn something new” you comfort the sad girl, arm wrapping around her.

“You promise?” she asks, hopeful eyes looking up at her Dad.

“Of course honey, pinky promise. We want you to grow and learn but science can be dangerous and it’s important we treat every experiment as that” he tells her and she nods even though you know she’s not entirely on board yet.

“Does that mean I have to tell you about the habitat I’m growing in my closet?” she whispers and you flash a worried look to Mac who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Well, why don’t we go find out” he says, standing and lifting the girl to dangle over his shoulder. The giggles and squeals she lets out are a stark contrast to the somber mood she was just in and you can’t help but smile as you watch them disappear down the hallway.

“Is that a toad?!” you hear Mac’s voice bellow down the hallway and you are quick to stand to your feet and rush down the hallway.

“Oh hell no”

Taglist: @mayfieldss

Comment if you want to be tagged in any upcoming Macgyver fics <3

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

Text

12 hours - Angus Macgyver

Synopsis: when you are taken hostage, Mac has to figure out a way to find you, though with feelings involved it's not like any other case.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, mentions of blood, torture/drugging, angst, fem!reader

You're front door flung wide open was Mac's first warning. The lack of your presence in the home was his second.

When he'd arrived with coffee in one hand, and his car keys in the other he hadn't expected it, and as a frown set deep into his features, the hairs rose on the back of his neck.

His voice rang out, oddly loud in the empty house, only to hear no answer back from you. Silence, from every room. Mac wouldn't have been so concerned had you been different people entirely, but you weren't, and what you did for work warranted a need to watch your back at every corner. Mac wasn't so good at watching his own back, but watching yours had always been his specialty, which is why the fact he didn't see this coming, cut so deep.

The broken lampshade in the living room, and the crimson that had long ago soaked into the carpet brought more fears to Mac's mind than he could count, and the speed at which he raced around the house looking for you was unmatched to any pace he'd set before. The first phone call he made was to your cell, which rang in the upstairs bedroom without you to answer it. The second was to Jack, who picked up after the third ring with an irritated groan.

"It's eight in the morning man, what d'you want?"

"Listen, you gotta calm down. You can't think straight when you're like this, and we need that big brain of yours if we want any chance of finding her." Jack has a calloused hand placed firmly on Mac's shoulder as they stand in your empty bedroom. Mac doesn't need a reminder on the importance of staying calm. It's how he's survived his whole life, how he's managed to keep Jack alive to this day, and how he's managed to save you more times than he can count.

But he isn't calm, at least not now. Mac's gaze is locked on the top drawer of your dresser, where you'd allowed him to move in some of his things the month before. Some trinkets, a few shirts, though he can see one of them strewn on the floor in the corner after a rushed discard of it in this very room a few nights before.

"Did I ever tell you we were moving in together?" his voice comes quiet, distracted as his eyes scan over the room. Before he can spiral further Jack's hold on Mac's shoulder grows tighter and he spins the blonde around to face him

"Quit using that past tense bullshit." The man snaps his fingers, loud, in Mac's face, cutting through the harsh thoughts running rampant in his mind. "Y'all are moving in together whether you like it or not, and when we get her back, you better start packing your shit."

Mac can feel the pain welling in his chest, before he pulls himself out of Jack's hold. He takes one deep breath in and holds it for a moment, the air in his lungs one thing he can control. And then he's focused enough to think, and to plan. He's ready to find you.

You can feel a dampness on your clothes, and while you're unsure if it's water or sweat, it brings a coolness to your skin. There's a sound akin to dripping somewhere to your left, and faint traffic in a direction you can't quite make out. It's dark, and it stays that way even after you open your eyes.

You're not at home anymore, that much is clear, but you're not alone either, and as your eyes adjust to the black you can make out the picture of a figure before you, leant against the wall in waiting.

"Tired?" it asks, voice full of enjoyment. A sharp plastic digs into your wrists, and if you were to hazard a guess, cable ties would be the closest you could get to what was restraining you.

You don't respond to whoever sits across from you, and despite the fear begging you not to, you close your eyes again.

Faking sleep is better than being forced into it by a harsh hit to the head, something you assume happened earlier by the aching you feel. And it's certainly better than torture or interrogation—something you can see coming from a mile off.

"No, no, I don't have the patience for games." The voice has come closer, though you hadn't heard the footsteps, but before you can even out your breathing, sell the lie, your nervous system forces you awake. Water, ice cold, covers every inch of your body, weighing you down as you gasp from its contact.

Your eyes are open again, and you can see your captor, which isn't any luck on your part. It's almost a definite that you'll be disposed of now, once all is said and done.

A singular light is on above you, a bright, irritating presence. And now, as you cast your gaze to your surroundings, you see the various tools displayed on a tray across the room. A scalpel winks at you, as do many other shiny metals.

You wish you'd never woken up.

Mac sits in the war room alone, scanning through security the footage Riley had gathered hours ago. He can't see a thing—or rather, he can't see you—in any of the frames.

On the quiet Suburban street where you lived, cameras weren't needed. Which rendered almost every tape Riley had pulled from the systems closer to town useless. And the more Mac looked through each one, his eyesight began to blur. Perhaps the footage wasn't the problem. Maybe it was Mac himself.

Angus MacGyver had never not had an idea in his life. He was a quick thinker and always had been. Yet, here he was—trapped in the large expanse of a government owned building and surrounded by technology that should have been assisting him—with no plans worth speaking aloud.

Mac found himself standing from his chair, heart beating at a furious pace. It was as though he couldn't get air into his lungs, and the breaths he did take seemed to burn, his anxiety acid to his insides.

He can hear his own gasps for breath in his ears, frantic and rapid, and for a moment, he thinks he might be dying. He can see his phone light up on the rooms center table, next to the bowl of paperclips, now half empty. But the phone makes it all worse, as with the notification and the device lighting up, he can see you.

Trapped in the phone, you sit grinning on a couch, Mac beside you with your legs in his lap. The lock screen is a moment in time, yet he can still remember everything that happens after. He remembers Bozer snapping the picture, and can recall his own hands, pulling you into his lap moments later. Mac remembers you, laughing into his lips, tasting of beer, and the icing from Jack's birthday cake. It feels like his chest is shrinking now as he sinks into the memory, mind sucking him into it before pushing him back out into the now. He doesn't know where you are, if you're alive or dead, and the burn of panicked tears comes quickly. His gasps increase in volume as he slides down the wall to the floor, and with the blood pumping hard in his ears, he can hardly hear the door open.

"Woah, woah, Mac!" Jack is on the floor with him in moments, a firm grip on both his shoulders. "Breathe man, in and out."

Mac tries, he really does, but everything inside him spills over. He's an overflowing sink and it's so unlike him, as if grief has taken hold long before he can confirm he's lost you for good.

"I don't know where she is, Jack." There's anger in his words, fear forcing it out of him, and in his peripheral, he can see Riley and Maddy in the doorway.

"I know, man. It's tough, but we're gonna find her." Jack's support does nothing to soothe him, and Mac finds himself pushing the man back, scrambling to his feet.

"Really, Jack? Because it doesn't feel like it. We don't even know how long she's been missing. How long did it take before I even realized she was gone?" Mac has forced himself to face the window, as if he can hide himself—his pain, no matter how clear it is—from his coworkers. His friends.

"Mac, this isn't on you. There's no way you could have known what was about to happen." It's Maddy, though Mac still refuses to face her. He can hear someone step forward, and by the rustle of a leather jacket, he knows it's Riley.

"This was never your fault, Mac."

"I didn't know she was missing. I should have known." He can hear the crack in his own voice as he tortures himself from the inside out. And then he yells, an agonizing sound full of anger and resentment as he turns, swinging his hand out to knock the glass bowl of paperclips to the ground. It shatters, as does Mac, and his friends rush to hold him up before he can fall.

Maddy sends him home after that, though that doesn't stop his racing train of thought. Bozer orders him take out that he can't bring himself to eat, and he waits for you, as if by pure will he can cause you to form in the doorway.

He tried to wrap his head around who would have taken you, but the list of suspects is too long. Was it revenge on you they were seeking, or was the plan to cause Mac pain in this very way? Was it something to do with the foundation as a whole or one singular person? Every mistake Mac has ever made forms in his mind, but none of them fit with the story he's put together.

The open door, the blood on the carpet, the broken household items. Your phone left behind, coffee pot empty as you waited for Mac to arrive. Your bed wasn't made, and Mac could picture the day you would've had had things gone right. It's dark out, but Mac can't sleep. he stands, and despite Maddy's orders, leaves the house.

You're cold, shivering in a shirt that isn't yours. It's one of Mac's, checkered and blue, paired with pajama shorts that do nothing to conserve your body heat. But having something of his right now gives you comfort, a reminder that he will be looking for you.

The room has looked the same for all the hours you've spent within it, and you have no concept of time in its confines. Whether it's night or day, you can't tell, but no one told you that the scariest part of being held captive, sometimes is the fact that you don't know how long you have been.

When you see the man again, your vision is blurred and you can hardly bring yourself to speak. There's something in your bloodstream now, a drug given to you by the stranger, that keeps you weak. A hallucinogenic that makes it almost impossible to decipher what is real and what is not.

"Do you remember me?" the stranger calls. He's organizing his tools across the room, black gloves making gentle sounds with each movement.

It's hard to breathe, let alone to speak. "No."

You're sure that's not the answer the man wants, but it's the truthful one you can give to him. You can hear his footsteps now and they echo loud in your eardrums, increasing the headache you already have.

"Think a little harder. Look at me, go on."

You raise your head, though it feels too heavy for your neck, and do as he says.

"Do you remember now?" there's a lack of emotion in his features, like he's made of metal and wires beneath the skin that pulls him together. But you can't put his face into full focus. Maybe it's the drugs, or the tears of frustration that pull themselves to the front of your eyes, but you can't remember seeing a face like his.

"No." It's a struggle to keep eye contact, but you hold out. "I don't remember a single thing about you."

The man lets out a grunt—at least that's what you make it out to be—before wandering back to his cart of metal devices. They're all surprisingly clean, and in between the items, you can see a syringe. A fresh dose of whatever drug you're already pumped full of.

You think the man is going to reach for it, but instead he picks up one of the many other tools. It's sharp, and you can tell it's going to hurt.

"Here's someone we both remember. Angus MacGyver. Does that ring any bells for you?" he's brought the knife, if you can call it one, over to your side, but you flinch at Mac's name more than the cool touch of the metal.

"Who?" You can hardly keep your head up, but if there's one thing you won't do, it's betray the man you love the most.

The knife stings as it digs into your bicep, and burns further as it's dragged all the way down to your forearm. There are tears and screams that leave you along with it, but you doubt anyone can hear. The sleeve of Mac's shirt has been torn in the wake of the cut, and your blood will stain the fabric forevermore.

"Angus MacGyver," the man speaks the name again once your screams have subsided to mere whimpers. "now, a little birdy told me a secret about you and him. D'you wanna know what it is?"

"I don't know any man by that name." You're curled in on yourself as far as you can go with your hands restrained behind you, the pain unbearable as it courses through your arm.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping here, but you don't look like the kind of woman to buy oversized men's plaid." He tugs at the fabric of your shirt, pulling you back to sit upright. "There is of course, this too."

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The man has pulled his own chair up to sit in front of you. It's made of old, splintering wood, and you don't understand how you hadn't seen it before. In his gloved hand, he holds a picture. Printed on glossy paper is an image of you and Mac, and unhelpfully, the photo has captured him, kissing you as though his life depends on it. Which he did often.

You're stood in an alleyway, Mac's hands gripping you tight as your own are tangled to great lengths in his hair. Next, the man shows an image of Mac, seated on a barstool with you in his lap. You both hold half empty beers with grins wide on your faces. You are shown picture after picture of you and Mac together, holding hands, kissing, laughing, and even fighting, all taken from some unknown point of view. But the last photo is one you recognize. It's shows Mac in the same blue check shirt you wear now, holding you close. He's looking down at you in the picture with the utmost affection, whilst you send a toothy grin to the camera. The photo is aged, with fuzzy edges, well loved just like the people it holds. It's the photo that has sat on your bedside table for years, and now it lies in the hands of someone who doesn't deserve its memories.

"Now we're all caught up, let's talk about our mutual friend." He's picked up the knife again, your blood still dripping from the blade.

"I don't know that man." you don't know why you're persisting when all the evidence lies in front of you on hard concrete flooring. You're buying time at best.

"Well you know his tongue at least. What, with it having been down your throat and all."

You don't respond to that, and a laugh escapes the dimly lit figure in front of you. He's moved back to his cart, eyeing up each and every violent item he could use to pull the words he wants from you.

"MacGyver knows me, even if you don't." The man picks up a cloth and wipes your blood from his gloves. His pace is slow, teasing. "He's a hard man to hurt, with no mother, father, siblings. So how do I get my leverage?"

The silence presses down on the both of you, and he's waiting for something. His eyes cast over you expectantly in a way that makes your skin crawl.

"Do you wanna take a guess?" He asks finally, brandishing now a new weapon, this one worse than the last. You don't answer, head sinking down in defeat, the drugs are wearing off, but you're still tired, and the feeling of your own blood flooding out of you isn't easy to handle.

The man takes his seat again, with the new blade in one hand and syringe in the other. "Men like him are weak for the women they love."

Mac had ducked under crime scene tape many times in his life, but doing so to enter your house was something he had never done before. It was dark in every room, Mac fumbling his way up the staircase in the black. He knew his way around the place by now, and he'd slammed into every door throughout his years of being your lover. He could probably recall how his back felt pressed to the wood of each one, whilst you kissed him fiercely, from memory.

When he makes it to your bedroom he reaches for the light switch, the bright yellow making everything clear. Your bedsheets, creased and pushed to the edge of the mattress, some of your clothes in a pile on the chair. Mac hadn't noticed before though, the empty picture frame on the bedside table. He can't remember a time when the frame wasn't taken up by his favorite picture of you, and now the lack of it jars him.

He's moves fast once it registers, and picks it up delicately. The frame is perfectly in tact, but it lacks the presence of your smile within it and it doesn't take long for Mac to race his newfound evidence to the phoenix foundation. When he arrives, what should be a dark, lifeless building, is lit up with people bustling about inside. The doors are unlocked and Mac isn't stopped on his way down to the lab like he thought he would have been.

"Hey, Mac!"

Jack. It's always Jack.

"Maddy sent you home amigo." He catches up fast, chasing Mac down the hall, though Mac can't stop. He slips into the elevator hoping to leave Jack behind, but the man pushes his way inside right after him. "What you got there?"

Mac has the lightest hold on the object in his grasp, afraid to damage what little information could save your life. "It's a picture frame, from Y/N's. Whoever took her could have taken the picture that was inside." It sounds so inconsequential when he says it out loud, the 'could have' in the sentence echoing out.

"So you're thinking you can check the thing for fingerprints." Jack confirms, nodding as the doors to the elevator open up to the lab floor. Bozer and Riley sit at one of the desks, scanning through what looks to be even more security footage.

"Mac," Riley's eyes are wide, and Mac can tell by the way she's scanning over him that he doesn't look well. His hair is disheveled from how many times his hands have anxiously raked through it, his eyes tired yet somehow wide awake. "We didn't think you'd be back till tomorrow."

Mac doesn't answer but instead places the frame down on the table. "We need to check the fingerprints on this, now."

But before any of them can make a move to do so, Bozer takes a sharp breath.

"Jack, you need to get Mac out of here." His eyes are fixed to the computer screen in front of him, and when Riley slides her wheeled chair over to peek at screen, she stands abruptly.

"What? What is it?" Mac pushes forward, but Riley blocks his view.

"Mac, I really don't think you should see this." She's placed her hands on his chest, trying to coax him backward, and without need for explanation, Jack grasps onto Mac's shoulders. He's trying to tug him out of the room, Mac realises.

"If you've found something, I deserve to know what."

Jack's fingers dig deep into Mac's shoulder blades, grounding him to the spot. "I don't know what they've found either, brother, but if they think you shouldn't see it, I stand by 'em." He tries to guide Mac away again, and the look on Riley's face tears him apart. Her brown eyes hold sympathy and a kind of fear he had yet to see from her.

"Riley," Mac's voice is surprisingly steady considering the waves he feels inside. "Just tell me one thing. Is she dead?".

She looks over at Jack, and they exchange silent words, though, Mac can't tell what exactly they are. "I don't know, Mac. I don't know."

There are tears that well in Bozer's eyes when Mac glances to him, and in a second, he's broken free from Jack's loosening grasp. He slips past Riley toward the computer, and he's choked for air the second he sees it.

It's a video file, sent to Bozer's email, currently paused. In the frozen image, you sit slumped in a chair, the rest of the room dark around you. There are cuts and bruises littered on every inch of skin that Mac can see in the dim light, and behind you, pinned to the wall is a collage of photos. Mac can just make it out from the blurry footage, the picture that had once been in the frame beside him stuck right in the center, above your limp body.

"Play the video, Bozer."

Mac can all but whisper it, his voice caught in the silence that lies between every pair of lungs in the room.

Bozer does as he's told despite hesitation and shaking heads from both Riley and Jack, and in moments, the footage is rolling.

Gravely words come from somewhere behind the camera, anger within them, and a kind of amusement too.

"She's not dead. I know that's what you're thinking. But she's not. Yet. Every cut was carefully placed, painful, yes, but not immediately fatal. She's losing blood, Macgyver. So it won't be long. 12 hours. Trace the email if you want. Take the easy way out. I won't be here either way. For what it's worth, I hope you don't make it in time. Then you'll know how I felt."

The audio cuts out, and the video comes to an abrupt end, the screen embraced in black.

Mac allows himself time to stand there, to think it over. His hands shake as he runs one through his hair, and he feels Jack's grasp on him once more. Mac flinches, a rage once unknown to him boiling in his stomach.

"You were right," he says finally, cutting through the quiet. "I shouldn't have seen it."

Thanks to Riley, Mac knows exactly where you are in minutes. He doesn't give the others time to stop him once he knows, and he's never raced down the Phoenix halls quite so fast.

He's burning rubber on the drive over, and when he finally makes it to the abandoned subway station, he doesn't think about the danger he's in. It's clear whoever has you really wants him, and he has nothing but an army knife on his person. Not that that had ever stopped him before.

He runs down every passage and checks every maintenance room he can find, tripping his way down every staircase. The hallways echo and groan, and with every sound he flinches, wondering if it could be you.

When Mac reaches the end of the station, he's at a loss for words. You're not here, or maybe he's missed something. Maybe Riley was wrong. He crouches down in defeat at the end of the tunnels, head bowed and breathless. He doesn't know why he does it, but he shouts, voice hoarse and dry. He's done a lot of that over the past day, even though he doesn't have the time to. His own voice echoes back to him, bouncing off of every surrounding wall. It sings down the tunnels and into the darkness, and it's all Mac has left. He leaps off the platform and onto the tracks, daring to walk down with only the light of his phone to guide him. The subway no longer runs, the tracks dusty after years of no use, yet it still seems dangerous.

Mac scans his phone's torch light over every crumbling wall, more than one rat squealing as they run from his fast-paced steps. He dares to call your name into the darkness over and over, hoping the sound of you will be a guiding light. He's hopeful, and with that hope comes pain. He doesn't hear you shout back like he prayed you would, even when he does so again and again.

Silence. Other than his own steps and the sound of his desperate breaths. Silence. Other than the crunch of dirt and debris under his boots. Silence. Other than the scream. The scream that finally echoes down the tunnel, pounding Mac at full force. Silence. Other than the sound of you.

His name echoes out of the black, your voice pulling him into a sprint as Mac continues to call to you, begging for your answer. He's closer now, close enough to hear your sobs behind the stone. You're behind the walls, Mac realizes, and he can't find the way in.

He's pummeling the solid rock, as if with his fists alone, he can break it. There's nothing he can use to help him, unlike many missions before. He's improvising with himself and himself only.

There is blood on Mac's knuckles from each slam of his fists when he decides to try a different approach. The bones in his hands still ache as he slides his palms along the wall, pushing on every crack he can find in the dark. He calls to you again, just to make sure you're still with him. Still alive. But this time you don't answer. It feels as though his heart may be constricting in his chest, like the ribcage that holds every important part of him has shrunk two sizes. He calls out again and is met with another round of quiet.

When Mac feels air, cold against his hand he knows he's found it. The way to you. He pushes hard against the stone that blocks his path, and the weight on his chest decreases, if only for a moment. And then he's in yet another tunnel, though this time he can see a light at the end. It's dim and seems to fade in and out as he moves. And when the tunnel opens out into a room Mac has never seen, the light sits like a halo above your drooped head. You're covered in patches of red. Blood, some dry, and some still dripping from the open parts of you.

"Hey, baby, can you hear me?" Mac is now knelt at your feet, Swiss army knife slicing easily through the ties that bind you. He fears for the worst when he places three fingers against your neck, checking for a pulse that is there, but weak. With every touch Mac's hands become coated in a new layer of your blood, warm liquid coming from behind ice cold skin.

"That's it, open those eyes." His voice is soft as you begin to stir, fear layered beneath his quiet tone, and Mac is tearing up his shirt in seconds for fabric to bind your wounds.

For a moment, he allows his gaze shifts to the wall behind you, where hundreds of photos seem to be pasted to the wall. Along with the one from your bedroom, the pictures contain nothing but you and Mac together. Every date night, fight and hidden moment not so private anymore.

Your eyes are open now, though your gaze is foggy, and Mac watches the tears run silently down your cheeks. He's trying his best to stop the bleeding of every cut and gash in your skin, and forces himself to focus entirely on the movements of his hands.

"You know, it's not as bad as it looks."

Mac is moving frantically to preserve what should be inside of your body when you say it, and when he looks back up at you, your eyes have closed again.

"Eyes open baby," He squeezes your hand as he continues to work, "keep them open for me." It's occurring to Mac now that he can't possibly cover all of your wounds, and that soon, he's going to have to carry you out of the room, whether you're bleeding or not.

"When were you gonna tell me you have a bunch of holes in you, huh?" He tries to send you a smile with the joke, but his voice cracks midway through the words.

"oh, I didn't notice." your chest rises hard with what Mac hopes to be a laugh, though a pained one. "I'm sorry for getting blood on your shirt."

"Shirts', plural" Mac corrects, gesturing to the pieces of fabric he has now wrapped around your wounds. "But don't worry about that, c'mere."

He's up on his feet now, and reaches out to pull you into his arms.

It's hard, and the howl of agony that leaves you in your attempt to stand is piercing, even with all of your weight held up by Mac. You're panting heavily, even after the majority of the pain has subsided, and Mac feels guilty about the next step in his pitiful plan.

"Just keep breathing, honey." his grip on you is tight, despite the fact his fingers press down on your injuries. "I'm going to pick you up, okay? On the count of three, bridal style."

"I was hoping we could save that for the wedding." The joke doesn't quite land, considering the sobs you mutter it through, but Mac forces a chuckle anyway. He adjusts his hold on you, placing a kiss to your temple as he does.

"On three, ready?" Mac can feel you grip him tighter as he says it, and his own heart races at the thought of hurting you. "One, two—" The three is lost amongst your cries as Mac lifts you into his arms, and he doesn't flinch even as your teeth sink into his shoulder out of sheer pain. Sobs wrack your body as Mac takes the first few steps out of the room, trying to be as careful as he can.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're doing great. Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths." He knows he can't put you down now, not until you're safe and outside, but without torchlight to guide the way Mac is seeing blind. He walks with caution through the darkness, wasting time with the snails pace he takes, and just when he thinks he's going to have to re-evaluate this plan of his, go back and make a headlight from the scraps in the room, Mac hears something up ahead. The sound of many shuffling feet, conversation, and then finally the calling of Mac's name and yours. It's his friends, Jack, Riley and Bozer, with their own torches some way up the tunnel.

"We're over here!" Mac shouts, desperation breaking the notes he speaks. "I've got her, we're here!"

Mac can feel your cries of relief into his chest, and as the lights up ahead get closer, Mac can't help but shed tears too. He's relieved, and as the beams shine brighter, he spares a glance to downward. You're looking up at him when he does, gasping through your own sobs, with a smile on your lips. And he smiles back, genuinely this time.

MACGYVER TAGLIST: @ash5monster01

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

AN: I was supposed to post this two days ago for our boys birthday but that plan kinda went out the window when the doubts crept in.

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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Photos by Julia Kochetova, a Ukrainian photojournalist capturing the reality of living through war.

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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close to home | chapter seventy four

plot: the return of the whisperers sends the reader into a spiral

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,872 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: enjoy the next chapter lovelies

Josie was giggling wildly as you blew raspberries into her stomach. The four-month-old baby sitting on your lap had blossomed into one of the most giggly babies, and you couldn’t resist tickling her or making her laugh somehow.

You smiled down at your daughter’s beautiful face before you scooped her up and pressed kisses on her fuzzy little head. Her hair was as dark as her daddy’s, with eyes as blue as the ocean not fifty yards from you.

“Ya ready?” Daryl asked from behind you.

You nodded and handed him Josie and watched his delicate touch. He gently bounced her up and down and kissed her cheek, only making her giggle even more. Which made Daryl smile so wide it made your heart flutter.

“I’m glad we brought her.” You leaned against the dresser. “I’m glad we brought all the kids.”

“Me too,” Daryl agreed quietly, focusing on his daughter. “We gonna have to bring her back lots so she can see the ocean.”

You grabbed your metal bow and ran your hands along the two names Daryl transcribed. Daryl Dixon and Josie Dixon, one on each limb of the bow. So, the two of you always knew what you were fighting to get home to.

“I’m excited to finally get to use this,” You shouldered the quiver and the bow. “Even though I’ve been practicing since you got it for me, killing walkers over the fence is not the same.”

Daryl didn’t answer you, and you looked over at him. He was too engrossed with Josie, playing with her in his arms. “Earth to Dixon. We got places to be.” You teased.

“How ‘bout ya go out there and I stay here?”

You snorted and walked over to him. “How about we both stay here?”

Daryl was about to agree to that when you both heard Michonne calling for you. He sighed loudly and kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Can’ ever get a damn minute.”

“Come on, old man. We got people to train. Let’s drop Josie off with the other kids and get going.”

***

You walked alongside Judith and Michonne, the bow heavy in your hands. You weren’t using it as an archery weapon today. You were using it as a sword. With the tips as blades, you needed more practice hand-to-hand with it than with an arrow. Which is what you’d been doing since arriving at Oceanside a few days ago.

So you walked with Michonne and Judith as Aaron called out formations and made calls. You glanced around at all the faces you rarely got to see. Most of them needed training to deal with walkers, and if the whisperers did return, they needed it for them, too. They needed to practice fighting in a group, in formations.

It reminded you of simpler times back at the prison.

Michonne called out for the hand-to-hand combat, and you followed her through the opening in the ranks toward the steady flow of walkers. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on you, ensuring you were okay.

The first walker you approached was gnarly. It was blotted with seawater, and its skin seemed like it was almost melting off. Seaweed was curled into openings in its body.

You grimaced as you twirled the bow in your hand before striking. With one sweep, the tip of the bow cut its head in two, and its body dropped. You spun around, ducking as another walker reached for you. With a swift kick to its back, it dropped. You grabbed your machete, tossing it in the air to catch it on a good angle, and brought it down into its skull.

When you heard Michonne yelling, you looked up to see Jerry and Ezekiel moving away from the door to the boat. Within a second, the door and the wall itself fell, and a dozen walkers poured out.

You smiled.

Formations were made as the training group launched an organized attack. You brought down walker after walker using the blade of the arrow. Each time it cut through a water-logged skull, you felt your adrenaline rush. Each twirl of your body, each pull and push. You felt more alive than you had in months, finally outside the walls of Alexandria.

You, Michonne, and Daryl took care of the outliers while the main group took on a majority of the walkers. So when they were all dead, everyone was breathing easier.

“That was actually fun,” You said as you approached Daryl.

“Ya sick sometimes, ya know that?” Daryl said to you as you washed the tips of your bow off in the waves. “Ya say the craziest shit sometimes.”

You laughed and slung the bow over your shoulder. “I’ve been locked away for months. This is the first time I’ve been out of Alexandria. Let me have my fun.”

Daryl swung his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple. “Uh-huh, let’s just hope our daughter ain’ inherit ya psychopath genes.”

***

You were standing barefoot in the water with Josie on your hips, watching your friends pull in nets of fish. Kelly and Connie were among them, and you waited impatiently to speak to them. Something was off with Kelly, but you weren’t sure what it was. And Connie signed too quickly for you to understand. They arrived this morning, and you hadn’t had the opportunity to say hi to them.

But finally, she noticed you and the sisters walked over. Connie immediately cooed over Josie, and you were more than happy to let her hold your daughter for a while.

I’ve been working on my signing. Needed something to keep me from going crazy, you signed.

Connie gave you a surprised look. Damn, I finally see you again and you had your baby and are signing better? All I’ve done is garden.

You and Kelly shared a laugh, and she spoke as she signed. “Looks like you learned quite a bit. We heard her name is Josephine?”

“Josie for short. She’s four months old, happy, and healthy.” You said, your hands moving quickly so Connie could understand.

The three of you started talking about the mask Judith found earlier and the few search groups that went out to see if they could find anything. You all seemed worried, but you tried to reassure them that, hopefully, it was just the storm that brought it in. Still, with your luck, you doubted it.

Eventually, Daryl found you, and Kelly and Connie had to go back to work. So you soon stood smiling at Daryl while he held Josie.

“Carol don’ seem right,” Daryl said, his voice low. “Imma take her out and talk to her away from everyone. Wanna make sure she’s good. Ya gonna be okay here?”

You gave him a look and took Josie from his as he passed her on. “Yes, I think I will be perfectly fine, surrounded by all our friends. Go. Make sure she’s okay. She’s been on that boat since before the summer started.”

Daryl kissed the top of Josie’s head and then yours. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I’ll save you a dirty diaper.”

Daryl gave you a look as he walked away, and you laughed quietly and looked at your baby. “What do ya say, sweet girl? We save daddy a dirty diaper. Mommy doesn’t need to clean anymore ever again.”

Of course, the four-month-old only tried to grab your nose as a response, but you smiled regardless. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you fed, sweet girl.”

***

“(Y/N), where do babies come from?”

You looked up from a feeding Josie to see Judith staring at you with that quizzical look she had. It reminded you of her older brother. You cleared your suddenly dry throat. “Why are you asking about that?”

“Well, you and Daryl had a baby. And Michonne had a baby with Dad. I just wanted to know.”

You bit your lip as you switched Josie around. Judith had seen you breastfeed a million times by now because she wanted to know everything about everything. Still, you kept yourself covered. “Well, when two people love each other and decide together that they want to have a baby, they have to, um, have a special type of hug.”

Judith gave you that look that told you she wasn’t buying a word.

“Look, babe,” You said, “Why don’t you ask your mom this question, okay? I think she would much rather have this conversation.”

“But I wanna-.”

“Jude,” You gave her a warning tone. “I know you’re curious, and I love that about you, but right now, I’m trying to feed Josie. Do you wanna stay and talk about something much more interesting?”

She smiled and sat down on the couch next to you. “Can you tell me a story about me? About when I was a baby?”

You hummed as Josie finished, and you could finally start burping her. You stood up to do so, gently rocking her. “A story about when you were a baby. Okay, well, let’s see… did I ever tell you about what happened after we lost the prison?”

She shook her head.

“Well, I was with your aunt Carol and an old friend named Tyreese. We managed to get you out when you were probably about Josie’s age, maybe a little older. And we were on the road with you for days, missy.” You glanced at Judith, who was smiling.

“I bet I made lots of noise.”

“You sure did,” You smiled at the memories from so long ago. Had it really been so long? “But we kept you safe. And then we found our family and brought you back to your dad and brother.”

“Is that why mom used to let you take me outside the walls? Because you’ve taken care of me for so long?”

“Probably.” You said. Technically, you knew Judith longer than Michonne did. But you didn’t need to tell Judith that. Instead, you settled with a nicer version. “I’ve been caring for you your whole life, babe.”

Judith smiled and came over to you. She tickled Josie’s foot and looked up at you. “Just like you will for Josie. And I’ll watch over her, too.”

You chuckled and cupped her cheek. “Exactly. Now go find RJ and play, okay?”

***

An hour later, most of the scouting parties were back. Daryl was still off with Carol, but you weren’t worried about the two of them. Nothing could bring down those two. You’d told Michonne about Judith’s questions, who seemed less than thrilled.

You had just settled Josie in at Oceanside’s mini daycare for all the community's children when a bang louder than an explosion came from above, and you watched with wide eyes as something burned its way into the atmosphere.

“(Y/N)!”

You quickly grabbed Josie again and went to Michonne and the kids. Before you could even try processing what had happened, Eugene was calling from Alexandria with an urgent message, so you all ushered to the radio to listen to him rattle on about forest fires and tell Michonne we needed all communities pitching in.

Oceanside was a scramble as you and Michonne barked out orders. Groups were divided up, and water was getting geared up.

You were in the middle of talking to Connie when Daryl came to you. “We gotta get Josie with the other kids. Ya gonna stay with her?”

You shook your head and looked at the dark clouds of smoke a few miles west in the sky. “No. We need every hand we can get. There are enough people staying back to watch the community and kids. Judith will look after Josie.”

Daryl nodded and took the baby from your hands. “I’ll drop her off, I heard Michonne yellin’ for ya.”

You kissed your daughter’s head briefly before telling Daryl you’d meet him with the rest of the prepping community.

It killed you to leave your daughter because you hadn’t really left her since she was born four months ago. But the fire was important. So you looked back for only a second to see Daryl getting her settled with the rest of the kids, and then you went to find Michonne.

***

It was well into nighttime when the community got to the fire, and you worked tirelessly alongside Daryl and Michonne to get the gear out. You helped Daryl get the makeshift water tank on his back, and then he helped you into yours.

When you got the fire, you felt like passing out. It had already spread decently and was climbing up several trees. You looked up at Daryl, who seemed just as worried as you. And it didn’t help that you were in Alpha’s territory.

“Daryl…” You said.

He glanced down at you, and you could see the sweat on his face already. You knew yours matched. “Let’s just stay close, okay? Don’ need to be worryin’ ‘bout ya.”

You didn’t argue because you felt the same.

So you and he worked on the south side of the fire with Cyndie and a few other women from Oceanside, spraying water and hitting it with mopes as fast as you could. It seemed like nothing you did was helping, and the smoke was making you feel sick. You only paused to get more water, and when Daryl made you put on his handkerchief to keep from inhaling too much smoke.

Everyone worked until the sun rose, and still, the fire was blazing. That was also when more walkers started showing up. Someone wheeled over the cart of weapons, and you handed Daryl his crossbow and then grabbed yours.

You’d only taken down a few when more trickled out of the woods, and you knew it would be overrun. When they got too close, Daryl grabbed an ax, and you watched him take out the closest one to you.

Then you spun the bow in your hand and stepped forward, taking out two with the blades within thirty seconds. You heard a commotion from behind you, and you glanced quickly to see the team that was supposed to be digging the trenches join you. And behind them were Alexandrians.

You sighed with relief as another walker approached you. You kicked it away from you, and it stumbled backward until it fell, and then Daryl sunk the ax into its skull.

That was right when the walkers caught fire, and you shook your head. “Daryl, we need to go. Now!” You yelled over the noise.

He glanced between you and the incoming walkers and then ran toward you, pushing you forward. When you caught up to everyone else, you grabbed another arrow and joined the firing team while Daryl worked at bringing a tree down.

It could’ve been hours before the last walker dropped, and everyone got back to work on the fire. It probably was another few hours before the fire was finally out, and you collapsed in exhaustion next to a tree. Yumiko, who you’d been working with, sat next to you and offered you her water bottle.

“Thanks,” You mumbled before taking a sip. “What a shit fucking day.”

***

After the fire, you, Daryl, and Josie went home. The both of you definitely had breathed in too much smoke, and it took a few days to breathe better. And getting Josie home was a top priority for you and him. You didn’t need to be there if more walkers were drawn out. You were confident that Oceanside and the fighters from the other communities that stayed could handle it.

Besides, your top priority was Josie. It wasn’t Oceanside. No matter how hard of a pill that was to swallow.

Even when she woke you and Daryl up at dawn for a feeding.

You were sitting at the kitchen table as you fed her and watched Daryl stumble around the kitchen tiredly. He was still in his sleeping clothes, as you were, and you stared at him when the bottom of his shirt exposed his stomach when he reached up to grab something from the top cabinet.

Then he returned to making you both something to eat, and you looked down at your daughter. She was nearly finished, and you couldn’t wait to set her down. Your back was aching. You hated breastfeeding.

“Ya want an apple with ya food?”

You glanced up at your husband and nodded. “Thanks.”

Josie finally finished, and Daryl took her to burp her so you could eat. You rested your head in an open palm as you did, nearly falling asleep in the bowl of oats. But then Daryl was sitting by your side, putting Josie in the playpen in the living room and shaking your shoulder.

“Ya okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head against his broad shoulder. “Tired.”

“Well, eat. It’ll make ya feel better.” He gave you a sliced apple.

“You’re always trying to feed me,” You complained before biting into it.

Daryl grunted but didn’t say anything as he ate. The two of you finished eating in one of the comfortable silences you loved so much, and you kept looking at your husband occasionally. He’d changed so much since his brother’s death. Not that you didn’t admire him before. This new Daryl was something else. He’d taken on such a leadership role, and he did so much for the community and for you.

In a wave of appreciation, you moved from your chair to sit on his lap. He looked at you with tired eyes, but his arms wrapped around you tightly as you leaned down to kiss him deeply. “God, I love you so much,” You mumbled against his lips.

His fingers squeezed your waist, bunching up your nightshirt, and you could feel his fingernails digging into your skin. “We should go upstairs so ya can show me just how much ya love me,” He said.

“How about I get on my knees and suck your dick right now?” You whispered before biting down on his lip.

Before he could reply, you heard the front door burst open, and you immediately jumped off his lap. Michonne walked quickly into the room with a look on her face that made your stomach drop.

“Walkers.”

***

Forty-nine hours later, blood sprayed on your face as you blood your bow blades from a walker's skull. Your head spun as you did so, nearly losing your balance. You’d been at this for two days, and waves of walkers kept coming. You’d already been outside the walls several times with the parties sent out, and you weren’t sure how long you could take it.

Daryl stood a few feet from you, his own knife embedding a walker. When it was dead on the spikes, he came over to you. He looked you up and down and sighed loudly.

This last wave was the biggest, and you sat on the curb to drink some water and eat food that someone had brought over. You hadn’t been home in a few hours, and you only went to check on the kids. You felt terrible leaving Judith in charge of Josie, but it was the safest thing to do right now.

“Daryl,” You called out weakly, and handed him your water when he came over. He took a long sip and then you made him eat something.

“Another wave, thirty minutes out.” You heard someone yell.

You wanted to cry.

Daryl sat down next to you and chewed on his fingernails. You could see how angry he was. You would be, too, if you weren’t exhausted. And the sun beating down on you didn’t help.

Your husband glanced at you and used his thumb to wipe away blood on your forehead. “Ya lookin’ real beautiful, ya know.”

You snorted and shoved your shoulder into his. “Shut up.”

You heard someone yell that a freak was approaching, and both you and Daryl ran back over to the gates. You stood beside Rosita as you watched one of those masked freaks approach the gate, and you heard someone call for Michonne.

“Fuck me,” You muttered.

***

Your hands were shaking as you left the community hall. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Like a hand was wrapped around your throat. Your body was trembling, and you felt like you were going to throw up. No. You didn’t feel like you were. You knew you would.

You’d barely made it to the grass yard behind the community before you lost whatever food and water you had in your stomach. Your body was shaking worse as you knelt on the ground.

“(Y/N).” You shut your eyes when you heard Daryl’s voice, and then you felt his hand on your back. “Take a deep breath, darlin’.”

“You can’t go,” You choked out, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and looking at him. His face was blurry through your tears. “Please don’t go. Please don’t.”

“Ya know I have to,”

Your heart was beating wildly and you felt a deep pit of desperation settle in your heart. “No. No. Please don’t go. Please. I can’t have you go out there, not after what happened. Please don’t go, Daryl,” You sobbed, reaching for his hands.

“(Y/N)...”

You shook your head. “Please don’t go. Please.” You gripped his hands tight. “No. I’m your wife, and I’m telling you no. She wanted you dead for what happened. She tortured me 'cause she couldn’t kill you. I can’t lose you, I can’t lose you,” You were hysterical.

“Okay, okay…” Daryl breathed out, wrapping you in a hug. “Okay. I won’t go. I won’t go, baby girl.” His hand ran down the back of your head as you pressed your soaked cheek on his chest.

“Don’t go…” You sobbed, “Don’t go…”

***

Twenty minutes later, you were passed out from exhaustion and your panic attack. Daryl was standing above you, holding Josie in his arms. He was worried about you. He felt sick over it. He’d never seen you like that--begging him not to do something for the community. You always knew how important the safety of the community was. It was something the two of you had in common.

But things were different now. Daryl had a wife and a four-month-old daughter. You and Josie were more important than anything or anyone.

So when Michonne came to tell him it was time to leave, he backed out. She was surprised but understood and instead asked him to help Gabriel look after the community.

Instead, he sat inside the house, kept an eye on you, and cared for Josie. Gabriel would be able to handle it. He’d have to. Daryl had to look after you.

***

You woke up before Daryl thought you would, and he’d been holding a sleeping Josie when you raised your head in panic to look for him. Relief filled you.

“You didn’t go?”

“I told ya I wouldn’t,” Daryl said.

You nodded and stood up. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “Ya don’t gotta be sorry ‘bout anythin’, baby girl.”

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theartofthephoenix · 1 year ago

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Crying! 😭

no caption needed

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theartofthephoenix · 2 years ago

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close to home | chapter seventy three

plot: winter passes and the reader hits her ninth month of pregnancy

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, childbirth A/N: I have no excuse for the late update 😔

An hour later, you were stitched up and on a nice dose of pain medication that left your body numb but mind mostly clear. Michonne had gone out to tell everyone the good news, and Rosita sat beside you.

“I’m proud of you, babe.” She smiled down at you.

You reached for her hand. “It’ll be your turn next. Thank you for being here with me.”

“You’ll be able to repay me soon.” Rosita said with a wink.

You smiled at your friend and squeezed her hand. You glanced toward the back of the room, where Siddiq was doing all the tests he’d read about. Daryl stood next to him, and you could read his body language like a book. He was on guard. Of course, he was. You were drugged up, and protecting you and the baby was his sole job right now.

“I’m gonna let you two have some time; you want me to bring a change of clothes later?”

Rosita was gone after you nodded, and then finally Daryl was carrying the baby over to you. He handed her to you and then helped you sit up, so he could sit behind you. Siddiq and Dante had made themselves scarce, and it was finally just your new family.

When your back was against his chest and his arms around both of you protectively, you let out a long sigh.

“Ya gonna tell me the name ya had picked out for months?”

You smiled and looked down at the baby girl, who looked up at you with wide, bright blue eyes like her fathers. She had been wiped clean, and she was absolutely breathtaking.

“Josephine,” You said, gently rocking the baby. “After my grandma who cared for me and my sisters when we were little. I was thinking Josie for short.”

Daryl kissed the back of your head. “I like it.” He kissed you three more times, and his arms squeezed your side. “Was thinkin’... maybe Beth for a middle name.”

“I love it.” You smiled down at the baby.

“How are ya feelin?”

“Good. Drugged. But good.” You said, leaning your head back. “I’m tired.”

“Ya did a real good job. Never been more proud of ya.”

***

An hour later, and with no chance to nap, you had Daryl let everyone come meet the baby. There was no use pushing it off because you knew they’d be out there until the morning if you didn’t let them in now. So soon, the room filled with your family, and you looked around with tears.

Michonne was the first who held her new niece and Godchild, and you could see her consistently wiping away tear after tear. Then Aaron held her and gave Daryl a look that made your heart ache lovingly. You knew Daryl thought the world of his closest friend, even if he never said anything about it.

It was an energy you hadn’t felt in a long time. The happiness and love come from everyone. The congratulations and jokes, the laughs.

But this was different. This was a family coming together and the single happiest moment of your life.

“What’s her name?” Gabriel asked when it was her turn.

“Josie,” Daryl said, and you heard a proudness in his voice you’d never heard before. The proudness of a father.

“She’s beautiful,” Gabriel smiled widely and nodded at you. “Congratulations.”

It took an hour for everyone to clear out--and you had to promise both RJ and Judith they could hold the baby once you were home. But finally, it was you, Daryl, Josie, and Siddiq. He wanted to give you a once-over before he would retire for the night.

Once you were cleared and everything looked ‘textbook picture perfect,’ he bid the three of you goodnight.

You looked over at Daryl, who was holding the baby. She looked so tiny in his arms. And the look on his face made you wish you had a camera.

“I should probably try and feed her.” You said.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Daryl was too engrossed with his daughter, and it made you smile again. He came over to you and handed you Josie.

“I think she has your eyes,” You said, getting ready to try to breastfeed. “They are like the ocean. Same as you.”

Daryl came to sit behind you again and helped hold up your shirt. “Much prettier than me,”

“Well, no arguing there, old man.” You teased. “Now hold on, I gotta focus on trying to feed her.

***

The next morning, you and Daryl brought Josie home. There were casseroles from everyone in the community waiting for you, enough to feed the whole house for weeks. And there were homemade cards from all the kids.

And Judith was waiting on the couch, ready to hold the baby.

“You gotta watch her head, okay?” You said nervously to the ten-year-old. You had her arm propped up on a pillow, so there wasn’t any room for error, and you’d be right next to her.

“I got it,” Judith smiled. “She’s my new cousin.”

Daryl was a little bit antsy, ready to jump in if something happened. But Judith was comfortable, and she held Josie perfectly. You breathed a little easier after that.

“Do you want me to watch her so you two can get some sleep?” Carol offered.

You glanced at your friend. “I have to feed her again, but actually, that would be great. I don’t think I’ve slept since the night before she was born.”

“We all took turns when Judith was born helping out. No reason why we can’t do that now.” Carol smiled at you; it was the first real one you’d seen in a while. Maybe watching the baby meant more to her than you thought.

So after feeding her, Carol was excited to take the baby from you and tell you neither of you would get her back until you slept for at least a few hours.

You were asleep before you could realize your head hit the pillow.

***

Teaks soaked your cheeks as you rocked Josie back and forth. She wouldn’t stop crying, and it’d been hours. You did everything you could think of. You’d fed her, burped her, and changed her. You couldn’t figure out what she wanted.

It’s been a month since she was born, and for the most part, she was a well-tempered baby. She fussed like normal but didn’t scream bloody murder like today.

“What’s wrong with her?” RJ yelled over the baby’s cries.

You glanced at the young boy at the kitchen table and continued rocking the baby. “I don’t know, RJ.”

“Maybe she needs more food,” Judith said.

You glanced at your niece and nephew before looking back at your daughter. You quietly shushed the baby and walked over to the table to fix the swaddle. Once she was wrapped up tightly and you were rocking her in your arms, she started to calm down. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the counter.

“Are you two finished with your homework? Where is your mom again?”

“She went out on a run to Hilltop, remember?” Judith reminded you.

You couldn’t remember anything much these days. “Just finish your homework. I’m going to put her down for a nap.”

You left the two kids in the kitchen and headed for the stairs just as Daryl walked into the house. You sighed with relief. “Thank God, that was the longest hunting trip of my life. Take her. She’s ready for a nap. I need a minute.”

Daryl didn’t say a word as you handed him Josie and then walked out of the house. The early May air was warm, and you could smell flowers. You could also hear the buzz of the community, and you sat down on the brick steps.

Dog came out to sit next to you, wagging his tail as you pet him. After a few silent, peaceful minutes, you hear someone leave the house. You didn’t need to look behind you. You knew it was Daryl.

“She’s down,” Daryl said, putting the baby monitor on the ledge and sitting beside you. “Ya okay, pretty girl?”

You gave him a look. “I’m exhausted. My back hurts from breastfeeding, and my nipples feel like shards of glass. I haven’t showered in five days. And I’m with the baby and the kids every day. Carol is basically a ghost. Michonne is always doing something--which I understand. I just feel overwhelmed. And I’m pumping so much milk I feel like a milk factory. Not to mention Lydia is sulking around, and I can’t do anything to help her.”

“I can ice ‘em again for ya. It helped last week. And I’ll have Aaron take Judith for a sleepover. RJ goes to bed early enough. Everythin’ else, we can handle together.”

You groaned in exhaustion and leaned against him. You had no room to complain to him. He was up every night with you because he refused to let you be alone, and then he was hunting almost every day to provide for you so you could produce for your daughter.

“I’m just tired. And postpartum isn’t what I expected. Michonne made it look so easy. And we haven’t had sex in over a month, and we can’t for at least another two weeks, maybe more, since I’m taking forever to heal.”

Daryl chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Things will get better soon, pretty girl. Why don’ I watch the kids so ya can take a shower?”

You looked up at him, frowning slightly at his handsome face and how much you missed being with him. “I knew I married you for a reason.”

***

A month later, Rosita went into labor. You’d been on an evening walk with Daryl and Josie when Gabriel came running, and you left both of them with a kiss before running with Gabriel to the infirmary.

She was in the same bed you were in and sighed with relief when she saw you. You were immediately by her side. “Hi babe, I didn’t know someone could make childbirth look so sexy.”

She laughed through her pain. “I’m just trying to live up to you.”

You smiled and took her hand as you looked at Siddiq. “How is she doing?”

“She’s got a long while to go. She’s only a centimeter dilated. She’s going to be here for a while.”

Rosita was in labor for a grueling twenty-three hours. You and Gabriel sat by her side, feeding her ice chips and holding her hand through every contraction. You only took a break when Daryl brought you breakfast with Josie, and you sat with them for a few minutes. Then Rosita started screaming again, and you bid your family goodbye.

Finally, after you passed the point of delirium, Rosita delivered a healthy baby girl. Siddiq cut the cord, and Dante helped with the cleanup. Rosita was exhausted, and you didn’t envy her in the slightest. But you knew your job was done once the baby was in her arms and Siddiq could pull off his doctor mask.

After Rosita thanked you endlessly, you told her you would visit her in the morning. You wanted her to have the time with her own little family. You bid goodnight to Eugene and the others who were waiting outside her room and headed home.

It was really late, and both kids were asleep. You were sure Carol and Michonne were, too. After eating dinner that Daryl must’ve saved for you, you headed all the way up to Josie’s room. She was sleeping peacefully.

You smiled as you adjusted the blanket and ran your finger along her chubby cheek. She barely had any hair, just little wisps of brown. And with her big blue eyes, you knew she would look just like her daddy.

The floorboard creaked, and you turned to see Daryl standing at the doorway that led to the Jack and Jill bathroom. You could see into your bedroom through the open doors, and the lamp was on.

“How’s Rosita?” He whispered as he came over to you.

“She’s good. She had a girl.” You stood on your toes to give him a kiss hello. “Looks like Josie is gonna have a friend.”

Daryl wrapped his arm around your waist and stared down at the baby. “I can’ believe it sometimes.”

“What?”

“That we have a baby. That ya had the baby alright.” He squeezed your waist. “Never thought I’d see the day… didn’ think I’d be any good at it.”

You carefully caressed your sleeping daughter’s cheek again before you looked back up at Daryl and nodded toward your room. After turning on the nightlight and shutting the door, you followed Daryl.

“You’re a great father. You were before Josie came along, too. You don’t think Judith and RJ see you as a father figure?” You asked as you started to get undressed.

Daryl shrugged and sat down at the end of the bed. “Don’ really see it that way.”

“Well, you are. Why do you think Judith’s been wanting to spend so much time with you lately?” You asked as you put on one of your old maternity shirts to sleep in. “She sees you with Josie every day and is probably a little jealous. You moved in about a year ago or so. That’s a long time for a ten-year-old.” You walked over to the bed and moved his arms so you could sit on his lap.

“Maybe I should see ‘bout takin’ her out huntin’, then?”

You set your hands on the sides of his cheek and smiled. “I think it would mean the world to her, old man,” Daryl grunted, and your smile widened. You leaned forward to press your forehead against his lips and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Josie ate the whole bottle, by the way,” Daryl said against your skin.

You nodded and looked up at him. “Good.”

His eyes closed as you pushed back his hair and gently caressed his skin. He must’ve showered while you were with Rosita because he smelt like the Hilltop soap that came in. You moved up on your knees and kissed him, taking him off guard, but he gripped you tightly.

“I miss you,” You said against his lips. You tugged at his shirt and then slipped your hands underneath so you could touch his bare skin.

Daryl hummed against your lips and broke away from the kiss long enough so you could pull off his shirt. You were kissing again in seconds, with your running up and down his warm skin. You then grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off so you were completely naked on his lap.

“Darlin’, I don’ wanna if ya not ready yet.” Daryl whispered.

You shook your head and ground against him. You could feel how much he wanted you, and you didn’t want to stop.

“I will tell you if we have to stop.” You grinded against him again.

Daryl didn’t give you time to adjust before he had you on your back and further up on the bed. His lips moved against yours feverishly, and his hands touched every part of you they could. You moaned into his mouth through each squeeze he gave you and each time he teased your clit with his fingers.

“Promise me if ya start to hurt, ya say somethin’?” Daryl asked against your lips. “I know how ya are.”

You nodded and pulled him closer to you to deepen the kiss.

Daryl’s fingers finally circled around your clit, slowly, tauntingly, and it felt so good you could already feel tears in your eyes. It’d been too long without him.

“I can feel how much ya miss me,” He teased you.

You smiled against his lips and cupped him through his bottoms. “So can I.” You slid your hand through the band and wrapped your fingers around him.

His breathing deepened, and he shook his head. “I don’ wanna wait.”

“Then fuck me already, Dixon.”

You helped him get out of the bottoms, and then he spread your legs. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting yourself prepared. You weren’t sure how bad it might hurt if it would hurt, but you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Ya okay?”

You nodded and bit your lip when you felt him rub his tip along you before he pushed into you. You gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails in.

“Are ya hurt?”

“No, it just feels like pressure.” You breathed out. “Keep going. Please.”

Daryl kissed your forehead before doing as you asked, and the pressure was gone within a minute. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him by the neck to kiss you. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip and sucked in, making his thrust falter for a moment.

“Fuck.” Daryl breathed out.

“Harder.” You whimpered, and had to bite your lip when he did exactly what you wanted. “Oh, God…”

“Open ya eyes, pretty girl.”

You did what he asked, meeting his. The way he looked at you so lovingly made you want to cry, and you cupped his face with his hands as you stifled a moan. He was hitting that one spot again, enough to drive you crazy.

“I love ya,” He whispered to you. “I missed this.”

You moaned, his words going straight to your core. “I love you too.”

His head dropped down to your forehead, and his hips quicked their pace but half a second. His nose bumped against yours every time he thrusted.

“Harder, please.” You nearly started to beg.

You weren’t sure how you lasted that long, but too soon you felt your orgasm hitting you like a brick, and then Daryl followed suit. He managed to pull out quick enough, and you didn’t realize it was all over your stomach until he collapsed next to you.

The two of you were breathing deeply, and you glanced over at him. “You better get me a damn towel.”

“Just give me a damn minute, woman.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand. “You should take a few of them, actually. Because you aren’t leaving this bed until I’m through with you.”

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