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writesandfights · 3 years ago

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beautifully kind || druig x reader

summary: druig sees the good of humanity in you every day

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the druig brainrot is alive and well, i am so obsessed with this man. anyway, this is the first of many druig fics to come, so if you enjoy it please leave a like and reblog! and of course, send me your requests! i will always try to get to as many as i can :)

There was a time when Druig would never have considered living among humans. That is, without his own personal touch. They were barbaric, they refused to live peacefully together. He would watch them fight over any and every conflict and see relationships fractured, hearts and bones broken alike. He wanted to erase it all, make them see that they could be better.

And then came you.

The first time Druig saw you, you were helping an older woman shop in the grocery store. Pushing her cart along, you reached the items that were too high on the shelf or too heavy for her to pick up. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of you as you passed an aisle he was in, and there you were: still at the old woman’s side. He kept an eye on your movements as you walked with her to the checkout line, making conversation as you waited.

Eventually, the bag boy took over. He bagged her items and helped her bring them outside as you waved goodbye to the woman. As you went back to the front of the store to retrieve your own cart, Druig realized that you didn’t know this woman. You must have simply helped her because she needed it. It was such a small act of kindness, one that others wouldn’t even think twice about.

But Druig had come to live for those acts of kindness. Too often he was subjected to the horrors of mankind. He had lived for thousands of years, witnessed countless wars, and was ordered to stand back and watch. In this beautiful moment, this small speck of humanity, he refused to let it pass.

“You know, I’ve heard these come in boxes now. More sustainable.”

You turned your head at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. The man standing beside you wasn’t even looking your way, instead, he was looking forward at the cases of water that you were reaching for. You let your eyes wander, taking in his black leather jacket and black jeans, his hands folded behind his back. He turned his head right at the moment you allowed your gaze to travel back up to his face and gave you a half-smile.

You returned it. “Yeah, I’m not really a boxed water kind of girl. And before you accuse me of hating the planet I do use reusable water gallons. These are just for a field trip I’m taking my students on.”

The stranger’s eyebrows went up. “You’re a teacher?”

You nodded. “Third grade. Shaping the minds of today’s youth.”

“That’s good.” He nodded, the half-smile still resting on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You only say that because you don’t know me. All my friends say it was a terrible idea of administration to put me in charge of children.”

“I don’t know, something tells me you make a great teacher. Someone for kids to look up to.” It was only then that you noticed the lilt in his voice, his accent giving his words a melodic tone.

“And what makes you say that?” You asked, playing along.

“Call it intuition.” He said, finally turning to face you fully.

You tried not to be too obvious as you took him in, though you were sure that you failed. Your eyes lingered on the square of his jaw then jumped to his pink lips, pulled up in one corner, as if he was amused. Black hair sat mussed at the top of his head and blue eyes shined as you made eye contact. His presence screamed unbothered and yet here he was concerning himself with a stranger in the supermarket. At that moment, you knew you wanted to get to know him. This man so fiercely declared that she was exactly who she was meant to be, despite not even knowing her.

You glanced at the case of water bottles, then looked back at him. “You mind helping me with this?”

And with that invitation, you earned your first full smile from Druig. Something told you those were not easily given out and you felt a flutter in your stomach as he answered.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Okay, everyone, time’s up!” You said, and you heard collective groans throughout the room of the students who were still working.

“I was so close to finishing!” One little girl, Georgia, whined as she passed her paper forward.

You gave her an encouraging smile as you collected the sheets from the front person in each row. “And I’m sure next time you will finish. Remember guys, these are all for practice. I want to make sure you’re getting the answers correct, not just answering them quickly.”

“Then why is it called a Math Minute?” Jaime called out cheekily. He was on Minute 32, a good few sheets ahead of most of the class, and was very proud of himself for it.

“Okay, so it’s a little bit about solving the problems quickly.” Your students giggled as you took your place at the front of the room. “But I don’t want you to get discouraged if you’re not as fast as you want to be yet. These Math Minutes are also about perseverance. If you want to move forward, you will.”

You watched small heads nod in agreement and smiled as you walked to the whiteboard, where a small wheel was tacked up, with Low, Medium, High in each third. You turned the arrow to the Medium section.

“The volume in this room should not get higher than this, got it??”

“Happy medium!” Lily said, beaming.

“Correct. You may talk to each other as you wait to be dismissed for recess. Remember, happy medium.” You sat at your desk, ready to check over their answers as soft chatter began to fill the room.

A mere thirty seconds later, a knock on the door interrupted your steady flow of marking. You put your pen down, and quickly walked over to the other side of the room, opening the door to reveal a familiar face.

“Druig.” He had a soft smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

For the past six months that the two of you had been dating, he had never come to your school before. Though you figured it was only a matter of time. As aloof as his persona is, he’s also very charismatic when he wants to be and passionate. But you didn’t have plans to see each other today, hence your surprise at his standing in the third-grade hallway.

Druig held up a bag and as you looked in from the top, you could see a few containers in it, the smell wafting up into your nose reminding you that you haven’t eaten lunch yet.

“Brought you lunch. Figured you could use a pick me up after our conversation today.” He flashed you another charming smile. “Brought these by too.”

He pulled the arm that was hiding behind his back in front of him to reveal a bouquet of flowers, daisies to be exact, and you tried to contain your gasp. During the kids’ spelling test, you had been messaging back and forth and you revealed how stressed you were with work. You loved your job but the students’ end-of-year exams were coming up and it was more of a reflection of you than them. When you relayed your frustrations, Druig made it clear he wanted to relieve you of that pain but you had assumed he mean when you were home. But no, he was here, flowers in one hand and a delicious meal in the other. It was obvious now that the noise in your room had quieted down, which meant that your students were trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, not allowing you to give Druig the greeting you would have were there not peeping eyes.

“Thank you,” You whispered, taking the flowers from his hand.

You gestured him into the room, knowing the hall would be flooded with third graders soon enough and your class seeing him would supply more than enough eight-year-old gossip for today. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to deal with it right then because as soon as you closed the door behind you, the bell for recess rang.

“Your Math Minutes will be on your desk when you come back from lunch!” You called as you reopened the door to allow them to pile out of the room.

“Is that your boyfriend?” You looked down to see Lily standing in front of you, her gaze turned to your desk where Druig had started pulling out food containers from the bag. He must have sensed her gaze on him because at that moment he looked up and gave her a smile.

“He is a good friend of mine,” Was all you responded with. “Now go outside, I’ll see you when you get back.”

She simply giggled and ran out of the room before you closed the door, no doubt going to tell her friends that she had found out their teacher had a boyfriend.

Turning your attention to Druig, you can’t help but smile as you make eye contact with him.

“Druig, I swear to God–”

“How many times do I have to tell you, love, I’m an Eternal, not a god.” His nonchalant response came as he sat in your chair, focus completely on you.

You hummed in response, unable to form words even if you wanted to. Whenever he had his full attention on you like this, you often found it hard to focus on anything else. His eyes always remained the beautiful blue you had originally fallen for and yet you constantly felt like you were under his spell. He had a way of making you feel special; like you were the only one that mattered. When, in reality, you knew he cared all too much about everyone. Walking towards him, his eyes remained on you, the corner of his mouth turned up.

“Hello, beautiful,” He said, his head tilted upwards as you stood in front of him. His hands reached out, resting lightly on your waist and he tugged you forward slightly, so your body was tucked between his legs.

“Hi,” You said, suddenly becoming shy under his gaze. No matter how many times the term of endearment was used, it never failed to make your skin heat up or remind you of how lucky you were that this man had come into your life when he did.

The always enthusiastic, “beautiful!” when you stepped out in a new outfit to show him despite having spent hours in the mall. The low, seductive “so beautiful,” when you were laid bare in front of him, his hands not knowing where to touch first. The whispered beautiful when you were about to fall asleep and he thought you couldn’t hear him. And this.

“Beautiful” as a greeting, a way to convey how he saw you every day. Your soul was beautiful, you showed him that every time you were together. With every smile you sent his way, with every time you brought in morning coffee for your coworkers, with every gold star you added to your students’ papers no matter the grade. Whenever he looked at you, he was reminded of the beauty of humanity. The capacity for kindness and love that humans hold. The most minuscule acts that too often go unnoticed.

Now, Druig’s thumbs were rubbing small circles into your hips, allowing your body to relax against him, your legs still caged in by his own. His touch was so tender and intentional; every caress was thought about before being executed. His goal was to soothe you and it was working. Your hands found their place on the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing his jawline.

Without saying a word, Druig knew exactly what you needed and allowed you to pull him close enough so that your lips just barely touched. You released a sigh at the feeling of his lips on yours and surged forward, kissing him properly this time. You felt his grip on your hips tighten as your tongue slipped into his mouth. He was letting you take charge of the kiss, allowing you to set the pace and pressure. The low groan into your mouth indicated that this was something he needed as well.

Finally, you pulled back, feeling more at ease in his presence. You watched as his eyelids fluttered open, a glassy look having taken over his eyes, the look of how did I get so lucky, he explained to you once when you asked why he kept glancing at you.

“Come on, let’s eat.” He whispered, nodding to the setup he had on your desk.

Two take-out boxes sat atop your desk, Druig had already moved aside the papers you were marking up to make room. He got up from your desk chair with a light squeeze to your hips, directing you to take his place, and pulled up a second chair from your TA’s desk. Seating himself next to you, he opened up his own box, picking up a fork with his left hand and resting his right hand on your knee.

You were grateful for the contact and it was moments like these that made you appreciate the small touches even more. The simple act of eating with someone else, but to have a hand on them at all times, was something special for you and Druig.

“I really appreciate this Druig, thank you.” You said, sighing as you take your first bite of the pasta that he brought for you.

“Just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Y/N. But I’m always happy to take care of you.” He responded, giving you a small smile. "What would this world be without your beautiful kindness?"

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writesandfights · 3 years ago

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always forever.

premise: after the emergence, after almost losing druig, the events haunt you in your sleep. but when you wake druig is there to calm you and remind you that he’s not going anywhere.

pairing: druig x (f)eternal!reader

warnings: small dream sequence in the beginning, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lots of talks of feelings and loss, slight sub!druig, super sappy, angsty, i suck at writing fluff and pacing so don’t act surprised when it sucks, eternals spoilers!! you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked.

word count: 2.1k+

etc: i know what you’re thinking: am i sick of writing soft!druig smut with nothing but forehead touches and super intense sap? the answer is no and i never will be! and i hope you all get the hint in this that druig is the king of eating pussy and has sub counterparts that make me weak xoxo.

“He’s gone. We have to go.”

“There’s nothing else we can do.”

“We have to leave him.”

Their voices burn your ears, each syllable sounding like a blowtorch to your ear drum. Your head ringing so loudly, your body shaking with pain, the heartbreak mixed with grief and guilt making your chest feel as if it might implode; all you can do is scream. Scream so loud that you think your throat might start to bleed from how it burns.

But it’s all you can do as you look down at him, his lifeless body, the greying of his skin. His beautiful blue eyes now dull and shadowed. He was dead. Gone. And now you were alone with a whole in your heart and a black abyss forming where your soul should be, sucking in every last feeling and memory you had of him until it’s a festering ball of poison that’s a constant reminder that he’s gone forever.

When you wake your throat feels just as raw as it did in your fevered dream. A sheen of sweat has gathered along your forehead and neck, and you can’t seem to catch your breath, can’t seem to come back to reality. Can’t get the image of your lovers greyed lifeless face out of your mind, can’t stop picturing Ikaris pull him through the sky and slam him to the ground as if he were nothing, meant nothing. Ending your entire world with just one fatal swoop and flash of his eyes.

You feel the tears run down your cheek before you even comprehend that you’re crying, that your grip on the sheets is straining your wrist.

Until you feel his hands on you, at your neck, your cheek, your wrist. “Hey, hey,” his voice is soft and filled with concern, strained with it as he pushes the sheets off of the both of you, moving so he’s now positioned at your front where he can see you better. “Shh, shh.” His hands bracket each side of your cheeks.

“Druig,” it’s soft, choked but it pangs your heart to say his name. Burns your throat even more. There’s a tear filled haze over your eyes that stings as you try to blink them away. “You–“ your breath can’t seem to go back to normal the more you try to speak, the more you cry. “You were gone. Ikaris–“

“Shh, I’m not gone.” Druig pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you firmly. Your body shaking against his naked chest. “I’m right here,” he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head, the tips of his fingers running down your back slow and soothingly.

The two of you sit like that for a while, your body coming down. Draining all the adrenaline and heartache from your nightmare—that was almost a reality. Could of been your reality. Your breath returning back to normal as you breathe in each shaky intake of air nice and slow. Your cheek is wet against his shoulder from your tears, you do your best to wipe them as you lift your head and pull back from him. And now you can really see him. The tears no longer in your eyes, the image of his grey and shadowed face gone. He’s here, he’s alive. Your Druig.

“You okay?” His brows are etched with worry as his thumb runs along your cheek.

You nod slowly, sniffing. Your eyes checking him all over for any sign that this might actually be part of the dream. That this wasn’t your reality right now. That he was really gone and this was some fevered apparition of him. “I-you were gone. Ikaris had killed you. I saw your..” you trail off as your chin starts to wobble. The tears threatening to come back, the hurt waiting to bring you down again.

“Ikaris never stood a chance,” he reassures, the upturn of his cocky grin making you chuckle softly. But there’s still sadness in your eyes and it makes Druig’s chest ache. A feeling he knew all too well, one he didn’t like, especially when it came to you. He’d be lying if he said there hadn’t been fear deep within his marrow when he thought this would be it, that Ikaris was finally going to shut him up for good. Images of the times the two of you had spent over centuries together, your beautiful laugh, and the way you kissed him when he wouldn’t shut up, all flashing through his head as he laid helpless in the bedrock.

But Ikaris didn’t kill him. A few scratches were nothing compared to what could of happened. The two of you losing each other. But it had happened the two of you got out of it safe and together, and something like that was never going to happen again, Druig would not allow it to.

He takes your hand and presses it firmly to his chest, his heartbeat beating against your palm. The warmth of his skin against yours once again breathing life into you, making your heart swell and pump faster. “I’m here. I’m alive. No one’s ever going to take me away from you.” He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your fingers, “I promise.”

And something within you breaks. Breaks in a way that can only be put back together by him, can only be touched, pressed, kissed, fucked by him. Bring you back to being whole. Remind you that it’s you and him forever. That it would take more than an angry Eternal or God to rip the two of you apart again.

You don’t recollect yourself moaning his name until your back is pressed into the mattress and Druig is on top of you, your sleep clothes gone, his mouth on yours; your cheek, your neck, against your chest where your heartbeats just a little faster. His hands are massaging your breasts in his palm, running the pad of his thumb over your nipple making you moan into his mouth.

And Druig swallows it down, every moan every whimper until all he can breathe and all he can taste is you. His love. His everything.

His lips are searing wet and hot as he kisses down your chest and sternum. Your breath and eyes heavy as you watch him make his descent until he presses a kiss to the top of your mound, his eyes staring up at you before fluttering closed as you feel his tongue move past his lips and slowly run over your clit. Your breath hitching in your throat as your back arches from the bed, your hand going to the top of Druig’s head as your fingers run through his soft hair.

To watch you like this was a gift to him.

Druig remembers watching plenty of artists paint masterpieces throughout the centuries he’s been alive. He remembers watching the beauty of history unfold before his eyes, read poetry from infamous poets. Had people bow down to him as if he were some kind of God. But no matter how many beautiful paintings he saw come to life, or sonnets of everlasting poetry he heard, or the praise from humans; nothing looked or sounded as good as you did when he was between your legs.

The way your moans vibrated through your body, toppling over your beautiful lips and filling the room with a symphony of whimpers and need. The way your legs shook around him, the way your skin felt against his palms when he gripped your thighs, licked, kissed, bit them. And the way you let yourself be consumed by him, pleasured by him, as if this was his last meal and your last time savoring the pleasure. The way you both let it wash all over you and consume you until every nerve ending felt as if stars were exploding in your blood stream. A feeling neither of you could fully comprehend other than; you needed this. Needed each other.

Druig loved having his mouth on every part of you, loved letting you know that your body was a temple he wanted to pray to everyday. Touch everyday if only to feel that beautiful spark it gave off. To be a part of you and the space you took up, the life you breathed into a room, into him. But the telepath was not shy in admitting while he loved devouring every part of you; his mouth watered at the thought of it being on your pussy, daily. He couldn’t look at you without thinking it, wanting it, to taste, kiss, and devour your wet cunt. It was his favorite meal, his favorite treat. Nothing tasted as good as you did, he got drunk off of you. His tongue lapping at your juices, lips wrapping around that sweet bundle of nerves that had you pulling his hair and his eyes rolling back in his head.

And after he’s made you come twice over, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you try to pull him up, “please, Druig,” you moan. His boyish grin making your stomach flutter as he lets his tongue run along your wet folds a few more times before pressing a kiss to them and coming back up to meet your lips, his tongue bombarding your mouth, giving you a taste of your own sweetness.

You let your hand move between the two of you wrapping your fingers around his hardness, as you stroke him slowly. Druig pulling from your lips to let out a breathy groan that fans across your face. His lips even more plump and swollen from his assault between your legs and your own mouth, the wetness that gathers along his bottom lip as he licks them making you want to chase his tongue into his mouth with yours. You’d never get enough of his lips, of kissing him, of any part of him.

The tip of his cock skates across your sensitive clit as you grind your hips against him, your body shaking from the overstimulation and the ache to have him inside of you.

“Fuck,” Druig’s voice is low and deep, barley above a whisper. “Want to be inside of you, love.” He presses a kiss to your lips, runs his hand along the junction of your neck where your jaw meets it, presses his thumb below it to push your gaze up to meet his. “I need it.” Your body trembles at the seriousness in his eyes that mixes so beautiful with lust and desire. His tone on the cusp of begging.

And when he slips inside of you the low breathy grown that falls from both of your lips is dizzying. Both of you feeling that missing ache become whole as Druig bottoms out inside of you. The drag of his cock as he fucks you slow makes your mind go hazy, wild. You have to press your head into the crook of his neck, bite at the flesh there to stop yourself from being too loud. To stop yourself from shaking because it’s so good, he feels so good inside of you. So thick, so big. His moans fanning out at the shell of your ear, as his fingers rub slow circles in time with his thrusts against your clit, quickly pushing you over the edge again. His name a choked sob on your lips.

Druig keeps fucking you through it, that slow gentle way full of passion and heat. Keeps whispering sweet words and moans in your ear, “I’m never going to leave you, love. It’s you and me for centuries to come.” and “Fucking you like this for the rest of my life is the only treasure I need.” And then he’s moving from the crook of your neck to look down at you, to watch your beautiful face contort with pleasure as he fucks you, as you take him so good, so perfect, as if you were made for him, for his cock. For his love.

Your nails digging at his back as he fucks you deeper, a little harder as he feels his release coming. The groans he lets out are nothing short of angels hearings. Your palms press to his cheeks, bringing your foreheads together, hot breath mixed with shaky intakes, “Druig, come for me.” And it takes everything in him not to let his emotions take over as you whisper the words, sending him over the edge buried deep inside of you.

There was a time the only emotion Druig felt was distain and anger. His emotions bottled up and stored away. But then there was you, and then there’s was this. All of it. The shared touches, devotion, love.

And he doesn’t know how he had ever lived without it, and doesn’t think he ever could again.

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writesandfights · 4 years ago

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A Tumultuous Saga- T. Raeken

pairing- Theo Raeken x fem!Stilinski!reader

summary- Theo is brought back from hell, but only starts an inner hell within you

warnings- angst angst angst

word count-1.3k

a/n- After 2050 day hiatus on this account, I finally caught up with Teen Wolf. I have strong feelings and needed to express them somehow. Binge watching TW the last few weeks has made me become hyper fixated again. Also I have became deeply invested in the lil psycho wolf boi chimera just as much as I was when I first saw him in S5 where I left off 4 years ago. Might turn this into a mini series, right now this is just for my enjoyment and my first time writing in 4 years as well. I’m a bit rusty. As I re watched, I wanted to explore a trope with a Stilinski reader (im the worst alright?). Kinda the typical theme with most imagines for Theo, but I’M A SUCKER FOR IT OK!! I hope you enjoy! Credit to gif owner!

“Hello,” you called out as you stepped into Scott McCall’s house. None of your friends had talked to you all day, making you concerned since as of lately they’ve been extra protective of you. Not leaving you by yourself for longer than necessary since the Ghost Riders have been in town. You heard all the voices from the living room cease when you spoke up.

Scott and Liam shuffled into the entrance of his home. “Y/n? What are you doing?” Scott asked nervously. Liam had the same look on his face as well.

“Yeah Y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” Liam groaned as Scott threw an elbow into his side a little too hard. You looked between the two curiously, almost amused if they weren’t being so weird.

Keep reading

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writesandfights · 4 years ago

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Aries: *sees Scorpio and puts knife to their throat *

Scorpio : sooooooo I guess you’re still mad ?

Aries: BITCH YOU THINK ?!

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writesandfights · 4 years ago

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Found this on Pinterest 😊

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writesandfights · 4 years ago

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❝ Everything I’ve done, everything I’ll do today, everything I’ll ever do, I do to protect this world. […] When I put on this armor, I took on more power than any human was ever intended to have… and maybe more responsibility than my heart can truly bear. But today… I will do my job. I will protect you. No matter what it takes...❞

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writesandfights · 4 years ago

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Stone Cold

Requested: yes! I hope I did your request well and I’m sorry it’s late ITS LITERALLY MONTHS OLD IM THE WORST! Pls forgive me🥲

Summary: a group of strangers appear on the Greene farm, and there’s one particular redneck looking for a child.

Warnings: Kath trying to write about horses, twd gore and violence, cursing, grumpy Daryl. Also unedited I’m too lazy to edit right now.

Pairing: Daryl X Reader (Maggie’s best friend)

People from the city pisses Daryl off to no end. It doesn’t matter which city they’re from, they all have the same snotty attitudes and look down at people like him. It made him sick ever since he was a young boy, ever since Merle drilled into his head that city people hated people like them.

Then the world ended.

He thought somehow his view on city folk would change. But as stubborn as Daryl is, the feeling didn’t change or go away. Because city folk, like the people in the group he was in, still looked down at him like he was trash. Like he was stupid or a fucking caveman who couldn’t understand. But he did. He was the goddamn hunter, the survivor, the one who was prepared for the world to end. He and his brother were the ones who were in charge now; who knew what the hell they were doing.

Daryl feels like he’s the only one who has a goddamn heart left in the group. There’s a little girl missing, and the rest have turned their backs on the rescue search. Yeah, there’s a chance she’s dead, but what if she wasn’t? Don’t they want answers regardless, instead of ignoring Carol’s pleas to continue or his own suggestions?

But here he is, in the middle of the fucking woods that’s sweltering and there’s no trace of Sophia. To make it more difficult, there’s a person from the city that insisted they came with. A stranger. Someone who’s holding the rifle oddly, but with some familiarity. Someone who looks out of place and kind of awkward on their horse. But they were someone who actually gave a damn about Sophia too, so Daryl reluctantly accepted their help.

They didn’t talk much, except for the occasional swear when their horse made an odd step or when a branch snapped in the distance. They made a comment about how “fucking hot it is out here” and how much they were sweating.

He hasn’t been on the farm long, and he only knew their name, Y/N. How you enjoy staying up late and getting up early to watch the sun rise and set. How you hate using guns but were raised to do so on this very farm. That was about it. But it didn’t matter, he knew that his group would be moving on eventually due to Hershel and Shane’s clash of interests. Whatever, he would think. All he cares about is surviving and not getting bit and killed.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the sound of rushing water in the distance. A good sign. He makes his horse move a bit faster to reach the river, and it soon comes into sight. It makes goosebumps appear on his flesh; how good it would feel to just jump in the cold water. As he watches the water flow below, he doesn’t watch in front of him. He only hears the hiss of a snake, and he’s suddenly being thrown from the horse.

You’re cursing behind him, but your voice grows fainter as he rolls down the massive, steep hill and into the water below. He feels a huge stab of pain in his side, and that and the impact of the ground below knocks him out cold.

“Daryl!” You cry out when he rolls to a stop at the bottom. When he doesn’t move, you fucking panic. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You take the reins and your horse quickly goes into a run, you know there’s a path leading to the bottom, but fuck, you don’t know how long it will take. What if he drowns? What if he hit his head to hard and-

“Dammit, Y/N, don’t panic,” you grip the reins tighter, the sudden downhill slope making branches scrape against your arms and whips against your face. But you don’t care.

Why don’t you care? He’s a stranger, and a mean one at that. He doesn’t give a damn about you, you can tell, so why do you give a damn about him? What has he ever done to you to make him so special?

The trees break apart to reveal the bottom of the river. You quickly tie your horse to a tree with the reins and grasp your pistol in your hands. He isn’t where he landed, which is a good sign, he must have dragged himself to shore. How, you have no idea, but you do know that man runs on sheer anger and grit. If a Walker bit him he probably wouldn’t even notice, he’s such a stone of a human.

As you run up the river, you notice two figures in the distance, and fuck, speak of the devil. A Walker is chewing on Daryl’s boot, it’s grunts and growls louder than your own heavy breathing. You’re scared, you’ve never actually shot someone before, that statement itself is just so unsettling to you. But the Walker there isn’t a human.

So you press the barrel of the pistol against its temple and fire.

Daryl thinks he just saw a deity.

First, Merle was standing over him, being the condescending dick he always is. But all of a sudden, before Daryl could piece together that Merle was actually a Walker chewing on his shoe, you come into view, your pistol pressing against Merle’s head and firing. Brain matter explodes from his head, spraying the rocks.

Daryl could only watch as Merle-no, the Walker, collapse face down in a sickening crunch. You’re breathing heavily, and when your eyes meet Daryl’s, he swears his heart beats faster like a goddamn, lovesick...

He doesn’t finish, because he passes out again, and he could only hear his name being yelled by you.

This guy is heavy.

However, you do manage to drag his lifeless body towards your horse. After bandaging his wound and compressing it as much as you could. But he needs Maggie and Hershel in order for it to be completely treated. It’s a miracle that you managed to get Daryl on your horse. The tree next to your horse manages to keep Daryl upright, as it gives him something to lean on. You quickly hop on your horse and gallop up the hill and towards the farm.

“Can’t believe I like you,” you’re grumbling, unaware Daryl was slightly awake and could hear you. Kind of. “Fucking clumsy. And bad with horses.” You shake your head, still unaware, but Daryl, in his stupor, is suddenly struck by the fact that you like him. A country boy. And you, someone from the city. Liking him. What the hell? He’s so confused and disoriented it takes everything in him not to fall of this fucking horse right now. First an arrow to the side, now a literal confession of love?

You make it to the farm, making your horse stop at the front door. Thankfully, Maggie is on the porch, and she stands up abruptly when she sees your frightened face and the unconscious man literally draped over your back. You both manage to drop Daryl off the horse and lead him inside, stumbling. Hershel takes over for you once Daryl is placed on the bed, so you take your leave.

It takes the rest of the afternoon for Daryl to get stitched up, and you spend that time on the porch, thinking. How Daryl has the right to make you feel this way, how you didn’t hesitate to kill the Walker for Daryl, who Hershel believes are still people. You’re in a mess, a huge one, but when dinner is ready, you suddenly don’t care.

You take a tray with a small plate of food to Daryl’s room. Surprisingly, he’s awake now, and his eyes don’t meet yours when you walk in. You set the tray on the bedside table, then quickly wipe your hands on your jeans absentmindedly. You wonder what you want to say to Daryl, but he speaks up first.

“I heard ya. When we were ridin’ back.”

A pause. A painful pause, and he notices the mortified look on your face and he quickly continues.

“I’m just...wonderin’ what ya meant.”

You’re fucking frozen, your mouth suddenly dry like it’s filled with cotton balls and you can’t talk. He takes your silence as a confirmation, his face red, and he tries to hide it by turning his head away from you.

“Are you...,” you stammer, “mad? Because honestly, I don’t blame you-“

“Shut up,” he interrupts. “Does it look like I’m angry?”

Um, yes.

“No...?”

“I’m not. It’s just...this whole thing...it’s never happened to me before,” he still isn’t looking at you.

“Me either,” you confess. “But it’s okay. Taking things slow, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he’s quiet, and it’s like this for a moment, the two of you in an awkward silence. Until he moves back around so he’s facing you, and that there’s room for you to sit.

“Stay with me?”

You move towards the bed, it’s like you’re moving on pure instinct, and you’re laying down next to him. Your faces are close together, so close, but you don’t dare move.

“You’re stiff,” he comments, and you nod. “So are you.” He rolls his eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Thank ya for back there. Without ya I’d be dead,” his voice is quiet, and you shake your head. “No need to thank me,” you whisper back. “I just...” Hated seeing you hurt and in pain. Hated seeing you so broken.

“Ya saved me,” he whispers again.

Without thinking it through, you’re swooping in, catching his lips in your own. It’s a quick kiss, but it’s sweet and new and you’re melting like hot wax. It’s just so fragile and warm; you’re blushing like crazy when you pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “Too fast?”

“Not fast enough.”

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