#Daryl Dixon X OC

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 67 ~ Alexandria

✧ Paring : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 7.4k

In this chapter ~ Alexandria: the place of which took in survivors to give them sanctuary just like they had dreamed of. But something seemed off. Like there were holes in the story the others couldn't quite piece together. Like everything was...too good to be true.

It seemed as though after everyone collectively took one final deep breath; the gates ahead started to open slowly, almost tauntingly. Aaron helped Eric through first, guiding him through the small opening before passing him off to someone else, only then opening the gate further once he saw he was in good hands on the other side.

Though our group tensed a bit when we heard some rustling coming from the bushes to our right, Daryl quickly shooting the mystery creature with a bolt before venturing over to retrieve it. Turns out it was only a opossum. But the timing of the event couldn't have been worse as we were now faced with a few judgmental looks from the people just inside, Aaron still wearing a half smile on his face as if he weren't affected at all.

"We brought dinner." Daryl said dryly as he held up the animal by the tail.

One of the men visibly grimaced at the sight, causing my eyes to narrow slightly already at the lack of welcome. "It's okay." Aaron reassured with a gesture of his hand, "Come on in guys."

The invitation caused us all to move in slowly, hesitantly, feeling Daryl inching closer to me by the second while scanning the surroundings of the place. The sound of the gates closing again from behind me caused me to look over my shoulder, watching them shut with a slam. The sight caused a strange feeling to stir in my gut. I suddenly felt like a caged animal. Like I was trapped.

"Before we take this any further, I'm going to need you to hand over your weapons." the man with the curly hair demanded, his words only making me clutch my bow tighter, "You stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay." Rick countered back.

Aaron looked back and forth between the two men nervously, "It's okay, Nicholas." he muttered.

I held back a snort at the mention of his name but somehow managed to keep it together. After all it kind of made sense. "If we were going to use them, we would've started already." Rick informed casually, keeping his cold tone.

"Let them talk to Deanna first." Aaron said.

"Who's Deanna?" Abraham questioned from the back.

Aaron's attention turned back to us, "She knows everything you'd want to know about this place. Rick why don't you start."

There was a beat of silence as Rick considered the suggestion, before a walker's snarl alerted all of us from outside the thick walls. We all turned back to see one of them making its way up to the gate, passing the RV as it hobbled.

"Rose." Rick said simply with a nod.

I wordlessly walked back over to the entrance and loaded an arrow in place, squinting my eyes and taking a second to aim before firing it right in the corpse's head, watching it fall limp with a thud. The scene had apparently caused a few heads to turn as Nicholas gave me a funny look that I couldn't quite read. Acting as if he had never seen anyone kill one of these things before.

"It's a good thing we're here." Rick commented a bit sarcastically.

There was a bit of awkward silence that followed before Aaron cleared his throat, gesturing for us to follow to guide us where their supposed leader would talk to each one of us. I scanned my surroundings cautiously the whole walk there and was amazed to see so many clean houses and neat gardens, along with people talking and laughing just down the road without a care in the world. Like what was outside these walls didn't even exist to them. Being here made me oddly uncomfortable, I just didn't know why. I felt as if I had just walked into the twilight zone.

My guard didn't drop as we all collectively waited for Rick's "interview" to be over, my eyes anxiously watching the door he disappeared behind as I noticed it was taking a little longer than any of us anticipated. A part of me thought that maybe Rick was giving this woman a run for her money, and rightfully so, needing to know what we would be getting into when living here. From how little I've seen, it seemed as though these people were clueless and ignorant when it came to the world we lived in now. That none of them really knew what lied out there; the way they painted this place as the perfect picture, it wasn't difficult to figure out.

Suddenly the door swung back open, catching all of our attention to see Rick exiting followed by a smaller woman who I only assumed was Deanna, a welcoming smile on her face as she stood heightened and proud. She couldn't have been taller than five feet and had straight, red hair that came to about her shoulders. She looked to be around mid-fifties and carried herself in a way that surprised me just the smallest bit.

"Alright, who's next?" she asked as Rick parted from her presence.

My eyes never strayed away from her while my arms were folded tightly over my chest, and it didn't take long for her eyes to meet mine from across the sea of people. She smiled a little brighter at me, but I couldn't even manage a fake one at the moment. Too many thoughts were running through my head to even pretend I was happy to be here.

"You look like fun." she stated, unable to tell if her words were meant to be as sarcastic as they came across. The nod of her head stopped me from responding as I reluctantly stepped forward. Facing the inevitable. I followed the woman inside the room, soaking it all in as I heard her shut the door behind us, excluding the others from the words we were going to exchange.

I looked around the office space, slowly moving around the couch that sat in the middle of the room, "Do you mind if I record this?" her voice cut through the quiet.

I glanced over my shoulder, "Excuse me?"

"Our conversation; do you mind if I record it?" she clarified, pointing toward a video camera that was pointed right at the hot seat I would probably find myself in.

My shoulders slumped in a shrug, "Knock yourself out." I muttered simply before turning my attention elsewhere.

The slight attitude I had didn't seem to affect her as she was quick to sit her happy ass down on the couch in front of me and press record, the camera sitting just a few inches behind her up on some kind of tripod. I took note of how neat the room was, along with the horrible decorations she seemed quite proud of. I knew that judging the interior design choices of this bitch's office wouldn't really affect how this all played out, but I found it funny. Especially since it was so God awful, the colors clashing was enough to make my eyes sting.

"Please have a seat." she broke the silence once again.

I watched as she motioned to the very chair I had predicted before, pursing my lips slightly before slowly complying to sit down on the piece of furniture. I maintained eye contact as I got comfortable, wanting her to know I wasn't nervous in the slightest. Though I had my speculations that this community could be dangerous, it turned out to be the complete opposite. These people seemed to be soft. And again; it didn't take a genius to recognize that.

"I'm Deanna Monroe, and you are?"

I took in a breath, "Rose...Dixon."

Her smile stretched a bit wider, "It's very nice to meet you Rose." she spoke politely. I nodded my head awkwardly, my hands fumbling a bit as I waited for her to get on with it. "If I may ask...what did you do before all of this?"

"Why does that matter?" I questioned in confusion, "Who I was back then is definitely not the same person I am now."

She nodded at me, "That may be true. But I still believe it matters."

I took a long and exaggerated sigh before just biting the bullet, "I was a cop."

"Oh, like Rick?"

Her question threw me off slightly, though I still didn't miss a beat, "He told you that...?"

She shook her head, "Not at first. But I eventually managed to get some answers out of him. He was a tough one to crack, I must admit." she joked.

An uncomfortable silence followed as I processed her nonchalant words. There was no way she was going to get that much information out of me, no matter how much she wanted to press. It surprised me greatly that Rick even told her what he did in the first place.

"No, not like Rick." I eventually answered, "Undercover."

"Wow, I didn't know we had a detective in the group. How exciting." she beamed, seeming to be slightly impressed.

I clicked my tongue, "Again...I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm not a cop anymore."

"Maybe not...but it was what you were good at in the beginning. That counts for something."

I just shrugged in response. I couldn't wrap my head around why this would matter to her instead of absolutely anything else. My assumption was she was going to ask what we've been through outside the walls, the things that haunted our dreams yet made us impossibly stronger. I expected her to pry into the things that none of us wanted to repeat out loud, but perhaps I was wrong.

"So...why do you want to be here?" she continued.

"I'm only here because I want my family safe." I answered with no hesitation, "They always come first."

She nodded in understanding, "You care more about them than you do yourself." she said more as a statement then a question, "I feel the same way about my husband and my sons, I get it."

My focus then tore away from her momentarily to focus on the little red light on the camera, blinking at me every so often. The simple thing put me in some kind of trace that I couldn't snap back out of. How was this place even real?

"And I can only assume you're married."

My gaze snapped back over to her at the sound of her voice again, confusion crossing my features, "Yeah..."

"Rick seemed very fond of you, he talked about you nearly the entire time he was in here. I managed to put the pieces together myself."

My eyes widened at the implication behind her words. How was this happening again? "No, no, Rick- he's not- we're not-" I huffed in annoyance, my patience already stretched thin at her assumptions, "It's not like that at all, I can promise you."

Her expression shifted into something sympathetic, "Oh, I'm sorry that was quite rude of me, wasn't it?"

Yes. "No, it's...fine," I waved off, "Rick...he's just been like a brother to me since the start. The first person who really saw through my bullshit, or...whatever."

"I see." she nodded, "Seems like he's your partner in crime, no matter what the relationship looks like. It's admirable. And you all really look like a tight knit family out there and have been through so much I can imagine. Maybe even suffered a loss?"

It felt as though my blood ran cold at her last words, the sudden change in topic throwing me for a loop. No one should mention those touchy subjects to begin with. But the fact that she continued to try and get things out of me the way she was, it really started to get under my skin in the most uncomfortable way you can imagine.

"What...?" I asked in an oddly calm tone.

"It just seems as though you've all lost so much...but especially you." she continued, motioning to my face as she traced a line down her own neck.

The memories that I had tried so hard to suppress forever, all came flooding back to the surface the minute she brought up the reminders on my skin. It felt as though her gaze was like fire as she studied them, burning me with her eyes as if it would give her the answers she was searching for. My heartbeat quickened and I found it harder and harder to not lunge at this woman for her lack of human decency. But one glance behind her head and the reminder of the camera recording kept me still. My family needed this place, and if I screwed up our chance because I couldn't keep my cool, I would feel terrible. I just needed to breathe.

But my lack of response caused her to continue, "I found I'm good at reading people. Especially when it comes up so clear."

That was it.

"Can I ask you something, Deanna?" I asked as I leaned forward a bit in my seat.

For a moment she looked a bit thrown off, "Oh, of course." she nodded, an intrigued smile on her face. In the back of my mind, I knew she was completely oblivious of what she did. But I felt I had to say something to make her understand, so she wouldn't offend anyone else like she just did to me.

"Have you ever once been outside these gates?" I asked, pointing out the window.

She followed my finger for a moment, "Well, no...not since this all started."

I hummed at her unsurprising answer, "Have you ever once...lost someone close to you in the cruelest way possible?"

"...No. No, I haven't." she answered after a brief moment.

"Have you ever once been in a situation where you come across strangers...and they made you wish you were dead?"

She didn't reply. She didn't need to. Because I wasn't done.

"I've been here for what, around twenty minutes now? And here's what I've figured out. You probably have a select group of people who go outside the walls from time to time when you're low on supplies, but other than that; no one leaves. Your whole community likes to stay behind the gates playing make believe with your tea sets, pretending like what's happening out there isn't really happening. So much so that you're trying to convince others like us, that we should come in here and play pretend right along with you. Or at least that's what you want us to think."

Her eyes began to grow wide, hanging onto every word I was saying as I couldn't seem to stop. It just kept pouring out like word vomit.

"You probably only want people like us in your community because you need someone to start doing your dirty work for you. You have no idea what it's like out there, and I'm not talking about the dead. The people out there trying to survive...they're much worse than you could possibly imagine. And forgive me if this came off as rude, but I felt you needed to know the blunt truth of who you're dealing with now."

The woman's mouth was slightly agape once I had finally finished everything I wanted to say, opening and closing as if she wanted to speak, though she couldn't find the words. But the funny thing was, she knew that I had read her like a book. I saw the switch in her eyes when she noticed the moment I had figured her out.

"Do I still look like fun?" I questioned with a tilt of my head.

She nearly looked like a fish out of water as her eyes grew even larger, utterly speechless that I had just spoken to her like that, but I only took this as my cue to see myself out. Surprisingly, I didn't say all of those things to her because she had triggered something. I said those things because she needed to understand the severity of what we've seen before we even considered to build a life here like she probably had envisioned.

When my hand brushed against the doorknob to leave, I paused, glancing over at her one more time, "Deanna?"

She looked back at me, "I'm good at reading people too." I said before pushing on the door to exit the room, leaving her alone again.

Once I made it out of the house, I was met with the others still lingering outside, forcing a small reassuring smile to show that I was okay. Even though the pressure in my chest was still present as I stewed over the things that were said. Though when I attempted to walk back over and join them along the wall, a woman with black hair and thick glasses stopped me before I even got the chance.

"Excuse me, could I get your weapons?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow at her with a scoff, "No."

She looked a bit shocked at my blunt response, stuttering a bit as she tired to explain her reasoning for wanting to collect them all from us, explaining the armory and how all the guns lied in there.

Glenn sighed from behind her, "Rose, we all had to fork them up while you were in there, come on. Give her a break."

I rolled my eyes at his subtle guilt trip before reluctantly pulling the two handguns out from where I carried them, handing them over to her a bit roughly. She caught them clumsily before clearing her throat timidly, adjusting the glasses on her face before scurrying off to add my weapons to the large bin, wheeling them all away.

My eyes followed her figure as she turned the corner with every firearm we had, reaching out my hand dramatically as it almost pained me to see them go. A few members laughed a little at my dramatic effect, before I quickly noticed that the Grimes were suddenly gone from the small circle.

"Where's Rick and Carl?" I asked.

"Aaron offered to take them to show the houses we're gonna be staying in. They're just right down the street if you wanna head over there." Maggie said.

I nodded, "Okay." I agreed before my eyes found Daryl's, pointing a finger at him, "But watch your ass, I think she's coming for you next."

He let out a small scoff as he nodded, "Alright."

I bided the others a goodbye before heading off on my own, a part of me wanting to take a peek at what the rest of this community had to offer. Everything seemed calm and quiet, but not exactly in the way that I had expected. In fact it surprised me that I didn't see any nosy neighbors watching my every move as I walked down the street and past the many houses. Well...maybe they were watching. But from inside through the windows like normal people.

I didn't know how to feel. The closest thing I could describe it was that it felt like some sort of fever dream. None of it felt real in the slightest, and I knew that if we did end up staying, it would take a lot of time to get used to it all. And I definitely wasn't jumping for joy when it came to the idea of meeting new people. I got insulted my first few minutes here by the woman in charge, I could only imagine how the others must be.

My thoughts were then brought to a halt as I caught sight of a white house that had the door left wide open, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. For the love of God. I pushed myself to walk up the porch steps with the intention to shut it, but a sudden body colliding with mine sent me back a few steps. The blonde woman let out a gasp of surprise as she seemed to ram right into me, her eyes widening a bit as she quickly stepped back.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry." she breathed, giving me a warm smile.

I waved her off silently, still trying to process the surprise attack, "I just noticed the door. Is this your hours, or...?

She shook her head, "No, no you're at the right place, I'm assuming you're a part of Rick's group. He's just right inside."

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion as I slowly nodded, "Okay..." I trailed off.

"Oh, I'm Jessie." she said as she quickly stuck out her hand for me to take.

I eyed her cautiously before shaking her hand lightly, "Rose."

"Nice to meet you." she smiled, "Well, I'll get out of your hair, I was just dropping some things off. Welcome to the neighborhood." she said kindly before heading down the porch steps without another word.

What the hell was all that? "Okay..." I repeated awkwardly before slowly heading inside the house that was supposedly ours.

I glanced around to see if I could spot Rick or Carl, but they were nowhere to be seen in the main space. Though I couldn't help but marvel as I took everything in, seeing how clean and neat it all looked, the whole place smelling of lavender and some kind of cleaning product. Everything was painted white, sparkling almost when the light from outside hit it just right, far from what any of us were used to. The hardwood floors seemed shiny and slick, like you couldn't walk around with just socks otherwise you would surely fall right on your ass.

It was almost too nice, too clean and tidy for any of us to accept. It almost seemed as though we had to work for this just like how it used to be in the old world, but no, it was simply handed to us. Though there was still something off that I couldn't place, something about it was not as warm and cozy as I expected. But then again it was something unfamiliar, and things like that usually didn't sit well with me. At least not in the beginning.

Though my attention was torn away from the decor when I heard a series of footsteps coming down the stairs, turning around toward the doorway of the living room to see Carl approaching me with a large smile.

"Hey! How was the interview?" he asked.

I didn't want to lie, but I also didn't want him to know the truth. "It was fine." I said vaguely with a fake smile, "She just asked me some basic stuff."

He nodded, "Cool...oh hey come look at this!" he said enthusiastically, grabbing and pulling my arm towards the kitchen.

He let go of me the moment he approached the sink in front of us, reaching forward to turn it on to see water flowing out of the faucet. A part of me was honestly pretty impressed that they had running water here, but the look on Carl's face, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Running water." he said in amazement, shutting off the tap.

"Running water," I repeated, "Which means showers."

The mere idea of a hot shower caused us both to sigh in sync, which only then made us laugh as we seemed to share the same opinion at how heavenly that sounded. "I'm gonna go take one now." he nodded, coming over to kiss my cheek quickly before he was off to the basement.

After I watched him disappear down the steps, I found myself walking over to the sink to turn it on as well, almost as if I had to do it myself to actually believe it was real. I remembered the times we had running water back at the prison, but it seemed like nothing compared to this. My hand then turned it off again with a small huff, looking around the clean kitchen.

I felt like I was becoming bipolar with how much my emotions were all over the place. Going back and forth between thinking we could have a future here and then being torn thinking it we couldn't fully trust what was being given to us. It was exhausting. But then again everything I was feeling was valid and completely normal considering how much we've been through. Time would do us some good no matter what came next.

"Thinking hard?"

I jumped slightly at the sudden presence, although I recognized his voice quite well. I looked over my shoulder expecting to see Rick exactly like I left him, but my eyes widened at his appearance. He was dressed from head to toe in new, clean clothes with his beard completely gone, his hair seeming a bit shorter as well and still wet from the shower he must've taken.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?" I joked a bit. He chuckled lightly while I stepped up to get a closer look at his clean-shaven face, "Huh...looking good." I complimented.

"Yeah?" he asked as he ran a hand over his jaw.

"Yeah," I nodded, "You look a little less...like a mountain man."

He laughed again at the comparison, my eyes subconsciously looking around the house again before I spoke up, "Uh...so were you aware about the strange woman that was in here a few minutes ago?"

He gave me a weird look but then it seemed to click, "Oh, Jessie? Yeah, she just stopped by to drop off some welcome wagon thing, and then..." he made a gesture with his hands, "Offered to cut my hair."

I hummed with a nod of my head as the silence lingered, the air growing somewhat awkward between us the moment I mentioned her. I couldn't place my finger on why, but Rick seemed to grow almost uncomfortable like he wanted to squirm away from the topic.

But he eventually cleared his throat and nudged my shoulder, "So uh, how did the interview go?"

"It was uh... it was fine." I said casually.

His eyes narrowed a bit, "Fine?"

I nodded again before walking further through the kitchen to look around a bit more, now feeling like I wanted to squirm away from this topic. His footsteps followed me and I silently knew the conversation wasn't over, but yet I tried to distract myself with the fancy magnets on the fridge.

"She said something." he assumed, hitting it right on the money.

I sighed heavily and turned around to face him once more, "Someone always says something when they don't know shit."

"What happened?" he asked softly.

I shrugged, "She just brought up the fact that we had clearly lost a lot, going on and on about how she was good at reading people. She kept pushing and then...that was it. I shut her up after that."

"And what did you say?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not going to reenact for you." I huffed with a roll of my eyes, "All I know is that she wants us to go out and do the difficult shit instead of her own people, that's why she wanted us here in the first place. No one else wants to get their hands dirty. None of these people know shit about what's out there, and they aren't going to get it."

He took a second to listen to my words before hanging his head, "It isn't gonna be easy, and I know that. It feels weird having to go back to how things were before...but what else should we do? Go back out there?"

I shook my head quickly, "That's not what I'm staying-"

"But I'm asking." he said seriously, "Do you think we should go back out there? Do you think this place is real enough...is it worth it?"

Thinking back to before we arrived here, I remembered the promise I made to myself. I wanted all of us to have a guaranteed future, a life that we could build off of. And the chance of having that in a place like this was enough to convince me to come in the first place; but was it actually going to happen? Or would something get in the way like it always does?

"I think we should try." I finally answered, "The kids need this- we all do. It'll just take time...in the back of my mind, I know that."

He gave me a nod, "Yeah, I think you're right. I just hope it goes smoothly."

I scoffed, "When does it ever?"

He gave me a sad, understanding smile without having to say another word, motioning me over with extended arms. I pushed myself forward to lean into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and closing my eyes in content at his comfort after the absolute shitshow with Deanna. He always somehow knew what to say, how to listen. It only reminded me of how lucky I was to have these kinds of people in my life.

Though as we pulled away from each other, I looked down to see how dirty I still was. "Shit I'm sorry, I'm filthy." I cringed as I wiped his white shirt a bit.

He laughed, "It's okay. There's a shower upstairs that has everything, there's even some fresh clothes in the bedrooms stocked up for us."

"Yeah, that sounds nice." I breathed, "Just let me know when the rest of them get here?"

"Will do." he nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder as I passed by him to head upstairs.

It was like a maze trying to find the master bathroom, having to pass a multitude of rooms down the long hallways just to find a fresh change of clothes. But I found it was worth the search, seeing the amount of clean clothes were like a godsent, and the bathroom even more so. Everything was white and clean just like the rest of the house, but at this point that was unsurprising.

I slowly peeled off my dirty clothes that seemed to be clung onto my body with the dirt, walker blood, and sweat clinging to every bit of the fabric. It was a disgusting sensation, the tingling it left behind made me want to peel my skin off with how overstimulating it was. I didn't hesitate then to step toward the large glass shower, ignoring my reflection as much as I could while stepping in and turning on the water.

Splaying myself under the hot stream felt euphoric and I could only imagine what it would be like when I was actually clean. I could practically feel all the dirt and grime just melting off of me as I stood frozen under the showerhead, before my eyes trailed off toward the different kinds of soap sitting in the corner of the glass box. I drenched my entire body in bubbles to clean from the hair on my head down to my feet. And it felt incredible.

I easily could've stayed there for hours basking in the water, but knowing everyone would be heading back soon unfortunately snapped me out of my daze. I finished up quickly after that as I didn't want to linger, stepping onto the tile once more to grab one of the many white fluffy towels from under the sink. After drying myself off and ringing out my hair, I delicately put on the clothes I had brought in with me, noticing they were a little big, yet nothing too noticeable. Still, it concerned me how much weight I lost when we were out on the road.

Just then, there was a knock at the door as I finished buttoning the jeans, "Daryl and Carol made it back." Rick announced from the other side.

"Be right out." I responded briefly, before looking through a few drawers to find a brush to run through my hair quickly. Detangling the knots took longer than I would like to admit, but it felt nice to be able to finally run my fingers through the locks. It was like a little bit of life was brought back into me as I stepped out of the steamy bathroom, like a breath of fresh air returned to my lungs at just the feeling of being clean.

The stairs below creaked with each step I took as I made my way downstairs, my gaze immediately being drawn to the figure outside on the steps just past the screen door. Upon further inspection I saw it was Daryl, my eyes squinting to try and figure out what the hell he was doing. I quietly stepped outside without him noticing, seeing now that he was skinning the opossum he had caught earlier on the nice white steps, getting almost everything bloody without a care in the world. An amused smirk crossed my face as I watched him for a moment, knowing that some things would certainly never change.

"Oh honey, won't you gut our opossums in the kitchen?" I spoke sarcastically.

He glanced up at me from his hard work, a huff passing his lips, "Ah, ya think yer so funny." he drawled out with a shake of his head.

"No, I know I am." I joked as I walked over to take a seat next to him, "So, how'd you like Deanna?"

His eyes met mine once more as he didn't say a word, only taking his clean hand to poke his nose up with his pointer finger. Stuck up.

"Oh, yeah." I agreed.

The day seemed to pass by in a flash as the sky was now covered in complete darkness. Once everyone managed to finish up the interviews with Deanna, it was decided that we would all stay in the same house for the first few nights. We didn't want to be apart from each other, whether it was for protection or emotional support, I thought in the end it was a great idea. I mean, they took our weapons and tried to split us up into separate homes after we hadn't even settled in the slightest. Thinking about it now rubbed me the wrong way.

We had pushed all the furniture aside in the living room to make more space for people to sleep on the floor with some blankets and pillows, everyone starting to get settled for the night. I sat myself by the window as I watched for anything outside, but there was nothing. No movement at all as it was just completely peaceful on the streets of the community, like everyone had turned in for the night already just as we were. But better to be safe than sorry.

Though suddenly there came a quiet knock from the front door which caused us all to immediately become alert. Some sat up and grabbed a hold of the handheld weapon nearest to them, and I even found myself lifting the flannel I had on to hover over one of my throwing knives. As if the intruder who wanted to kill us would knock politely first.

Rick was the one who stepped up towards the door, glancing to all of us as he silently raised his hand for us to back off a bit. He then slowly opened the door, only to reveal Deanna standing there with her hands folded together, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I slumped back a bit.

"Rick, I-" she started, but then got a bit distracted with how different he looked, "Wow." she muttered as her eyes widened.

He groaned quietly in irritation and looked back towards the rest of us, rolling his eyes the moment he caught sight of the look on my face. "I didn't know what was under there." she continued, "Listen, I don't mean to interrupt I just wanted to stop by and see how you all were settling."

Her eyes made a scan around the room and her words trailed off, seeing us all in the same space, "Oh my, staying together...smart." she said more to herself than anyone else.

"No one said we couldn't." Rick stated.

"You said you were family, that's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

Rick ignored her comment, "Everyone said you gave them jobs."

"Mhm, yeah. Part of this place; looks like the communists won after all." she replied.

"Well, you didn't give me one." he pointed out.

"I have." she confirmed, "I just haven't told you yet, same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha and I'm just trying to figure Mr. and Mrs. Dixon out...but I will." she finished, looking directly at me.

I held her firm gaze until she turned back to Rick once more, "You look good." she complimented quietly before turning around on her heel to leave.

I bit the inside of my cheek and waited until Rick finally shut the door before looking back up at him knowingly, "Don't start." he warned with his finger pointed right at me.

That's when I finally let out the laugh I had been holding, hearing a few others join me from the couch, "You look good. " I mocked, only for him to push the side of my head away from him to get me to stop teasing him. But even he couldn't stop the small smile from spreading onto his face.

Although even after the laughs and the late night discussions, and after everyone else dozed off, I still couldn't sleep for the life of me. I laid wide awake on my back with Daryl's arm loosely wrapped around me, as we were side by side on the ground with a blanket beneath us to soften the hard floor. Though for the past hour, I could feel him fighting sleep, trying to stay awake when he noticed I hadn't even shut my eyes.

"You can rest." I said, so softly I thought he wouldn't hear me.

His head jerked forwards slightly upon hearing my voice, sighing quietly with droopy eyes, "Nah. I ain't sleepin if you ain't sleepin." he said stubbornly.

I laughed quietly, "Okay." I whispered, snuggling into him again and feeling his grip tighten around me instinctively. But it seemed as though only a few moments passed, before the man was snoring loudly right next to my ear.

I held back the laugh that threatened to escaped, before deciding to slowly slip out from under his grasp. Because I couldn't sleep, I figured it wouldn't hurt to get some fresh air and stare at the stars for a while, not wanting to disturb any of the others. Even though we were locked safely behind the gates and allegedly safe from the walkers; we still weren't completely safe from the people surrounding us. Maybe that's why my subconscious was keeping me awake, or insomnia really was something I would never get rid of.

My feet carefully tip toed over the many bodies covering the floor, seeing everyone was fast asleep after only a few hours of shutting the lights off for the night. Stepping lightly on the floor, fearing it would creak under my weight, I slowly opened the front door to walk outside before closing it behind me with a soft click.

I hugged my knees to my chest as I sat on the steps of the house, goosebumps rising on my flesh from the slight chill in the air. Looking at the stars was something that brought me much needed peace, I don't know what it was about it. But it was special. Following them with my eyes, I began to make out different patterns that I was able to recognize, or ones that seemed brighter than others. Perhaps those were planets. But then out of the clear blue, a shooting star flew across the night sky in a flash, and my heart skipped a beat, my emotions rising at full force.

"Hi Bethy." I whispered, letting a single tear fall on my cheek.

What was once something that made me sob for hours on end, now brought me peace. Knowing that somehow, somewhere, she was okay. Maybe that's another reason why I loved looking at the twinkling lights, because I was constantly looking for something that would bring me back to her.

"Hey." I heard a voice call out quietly from my left, my eyes widening seeing it was Aaron standing there awkwardly, waving from the sidewalk.

Quickly, I averted my eyes and wiped my tears away with my sleeve so he wouldn't see me in such a vulnerable state, even if it was just for a moment. And though I wasn't looking at him, I still heard the sound of his footsteps trailing up closer to the steps.

"Can't sleep?" he asked softly.

I sniffled once more, running my sleeve under my nose as I still didn't meet his eyes, "Something like that..."

"Mind if I sit?"

I shrugged and clearly didn't give him a real response, though he took the silence as a yes as he slowly sat himself down right next to me. I looked back up at the sky for a moment or two, continuing what I had been doing before he interrupted my thoughts. Only now I seemed to be doing it to avoid his gaze, avoid questions that I preferred not to answer. It was no shock that he grew curious as to why I was sitting on the steps alone, crying softly to myself, but I just prayed he would somehow keep his mouth shut.

"Who're you looking for up there?" he then asked almost casually.

My head whipped in his direction again, and his eyes suddenly grew wide when they locked with mine. Probably because of the death glare I unconsciously gave him. "Sorry," he whispered, "I shouldn't have asked."

The man then ducked his head down to hide the embarrassment he surely felt, a beat of awkward silence passing before I let out a quiet sigh. "My sister." I eventually answered.

He peeked his head up slowly with a sad, but growing smile on his face, "What was her name?"

"Beth." I said now looking back at the sky. I then shook my head, "She wasn't related to me by blood...but it got to a point where it felt like she was. She passed not too long after you found us and...it's just been hard without her around."

"I'm so sorry." he said sincerely.

I shook my head, "It's not your fault."

Silence fell between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was nice to know that he wasn't going to pry or push me to talk about the things I didn't want to, he was just simply going to listen. If I was being honest with myself; I though he was nice, liked him even. Trusting people was just hard to do these days when you don't know exactly what their true intentions are.

"I had an older brother." he suddenly confessed, "And I, uh...lost him pretty early on. But what sucked the most is that...I didn't fully understand what happened to him at the time, he was just...gone."

He had turned. That was the worst way to go in my opinion. When it wasn't quick and easy, it turned into something even more awful if that were even possible.

"I'm sorry." I said.

He shook his head, "It's okay."

"No, I mean for everything. For not trusting you about this place, for pointing a gun at your head...for being a major bitch." I huffed, "I was just nervous about this whole thing- hell all of us still are. But we're here and we're trying...that's what matters right?"

He nodded, "Yeah. And it's okay, I understand the weariness. I mean a guy coming out of nowhere saying he was watching you, trying to get you back to his camp. Stranger danger is pretty serious." he chuckled.

"So, you do agree it was kind of creepy?" I asked.

He sucked in a breath, "A little...but my heart was in the right place."

"Well, why didn't you just say that from the beginning? You would've gotten us here a whole lot quicker with that line." I said sarcastically.

He perked up a bit, "Really?"

I blinked, "No," I laughed, "That was sarcasm at its finest. You should get used to it."

"Oh." he muttered, beginning to quietly laugh with me, "Well...thanks for trusting me, at least a little."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, don't make me regret it."

"I won't...scouts honor." he stated as he crossed an x over his chest, beginning to stand up to his feet.

Scouts honor? No way.

"Hey, Aaron?" I called out before he fully had the chance to leave. "Were you...a boy scout at some point in your life?"

He paused for a moment before nodding slowly, almost suspiciously at how I figured that out, "Yeah...I was an eagle scout for a few years. Why?"

I waved him off, "Oh, no reason."

He nodded again, "Right...well, goodnight." he said with a wave before heading down the sidewalk to turn in for the night.

Once he was finally out of my sight, I allowed myself to laugh, a little baffled that I was able to guess that bit of information just from his personality alone. I guess it was no longer an insult now since it was true.

But when the silence returned, I took a minute to just close my eyes and let my mind stop racing, reminded of the things I couldn't stop pondering over. I hoped that this would work out for the best in the end. Coming here was a big thing, instead of dipping our toes in the water of uncharted territory, we full on jumped in. But I was doing it for them, and that right now was the only thing keeping me here. It wasn't the big fancy houses or the running water. It was all for them.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[starlessea]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙙 [𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣 𝙓 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧]

Chapter 1: Tally

Series Masterlist: The Ties That Mend

Summary: Three-hundred-and-ninety-six days after the outbreak, you are discovered in an abandoned community college, covered in filth and barely able to speak a word. Despite the showers (multiple) and rehabilitation attempts (also multiple), it's apparent that your mind is elsewhere. Beyond saving.

This new world is chaos, but you're lucky to find good people in it. More so than any is a man named Daryl, patient enough to let you put yourself back together—one stitch at a time.

There’s no space left on the walls.

The thought sickens you; bile backs up into your throat before you swallow it down. There has to be something, somewhere—a small patch of unmarked paint for you to draw your next tally line. Desperately searching, your hands shake with realisation. There’s no more space on the walls. Nowhere left for you to mark the day. 

How many had it been, again? Four-hundred—more?

You start counting the tallies in multiples of five, beginning with the wall nearest the door and working clockwise around your bedroom. It had been a supply cupboard initially, scarcely big enough for you to lie flat. Blankets were scrunched at your feet, the result of yet another restless night, and your few belongings sat tucked into built-in shelving. You had committed it all to memory—every inch, a map of your isolation.

Three-hundred-and-eighty-five… Three-hundred-and-ninety… Three-hundred-and-ninety-five—

A sound interrupts your counting. 

There’s a thunk in the distance, barely there. You pause mid-breath. Soon enough, another follows. It’s a distant, hollow thud that sends ripples of panic through your body. 

The response is immediate. The tremors start with your fingertips before spreading upwards. Every breath exacerbates them, and soon you find yourself violently shaking. Something is approaching. You know it before you hear the next noise, a clink some ways off that cuts through the stillness.

Instinct takes over. You’re on your feet before you can think it through. The hatchet under your pillow is cold, its handle familiar. It becomes an extension of your limbs as your fingers mold around it. Your voice, alarmed, races through your head:

How’d it get in—what entrance had you missed? How many? How many?

You find your footing. The supply door creaks as you toe it open; it needs greasing again. There’s a jerry can in the music room downstairs—you know—but you’d lacked the energy for the trip. The hunger pangs had been keeping you bedridden, and only when dark spots crept into your vision did you dare venture out. 

Now you have no choice. Something’s coming, and you need to deal with it.

As you creep through the door, the smell of decay hits you. Gore and innards have seeped into the floorboards, your bare feet squelching atop the ichor. Before you, the corridor is lined with undead, their bodies shoved up against the walls to form a pathway through the middle. 

At first, you’d made an effort to clean them away—burying and burning and scrubbing and praying. But as the days went on, they just kept piling up. There were only so many bodies one person could attend, and even that took its toll. Before you knew it, they were under your nails and in your hair, then sometimes your head.

It was pointless.

It didn’t matter if you locked them away in the auditorium; you were never truly rid of them. Eventually, you gave up altogether. They were just another fixture of your life. Another layer of filth that had come to define this world.

They’re watching you now. You feel them. Judging you, condemning you. Stop it, you think, fixing onto one—it’s face half-shredded, an eye hanging from the socket. Don’t look at me like that. But its gaze is unrelenting. You swallow hard, and continue past the corpse. He was a kind man, once. Back when he had been one.

Your hatchet is weighing you down. It’s far heavier than you remembered, and your body, more sluggish. Most of the food has perished by now—only a few cans left rolling about the cafeteria. You didn’t pick through them anymore. There were too many memories in there. Too many things left behind. 

Malnourishment had taken its toll on you. Despite covering all the mirrors, you couldn’t avoid the contours of your hands, skin stretched taut over boney fingers, topped by brittle nails. In certain lights, you were not dissimilar to the undead—slowly wasting away.

“Man, this place is god-awful.” 

You freeze. Voices slice through the cloying air. 

“I’m telling you, something ain’t right here,” one says, close enough to spit. “Bunch’a dead walkers and you don’t stop to think, why? We got the meds, food’s nothing but dust, so what are we sticking around for?” 

A second voice, lighter, and a bit strained rebuts, “I don’t remember making you in charge. Keep walking, and I’ll keep pretending like I didn’t see you stuff that bottle of pills down your pants.”

Pills? You blink, your mind struggling to piece the words together. There were pills in the sick-bay down the hall—yes. That was true. So these people… Were they real?

You deliberate for a moment. In your entire time here, you hadn’t seen another person since the outbreak. Not a real one at least—or living.

No, you decided. They were undead. They had to be.

The shuffling of footsteps grows louder. They’re close now. Too close. You’re shaking so viciously that your bones ache. It’s now or never. As the undead round the corner, you are decided.

You aim for the head when you swing.

Thwack. 

The impact is solid—satisfying. But beneath the hatchet, the wall crumbles. There is no corpse, no contact with flesh. Before you, a man stares wide-eyed, his jacket crumpled in the fist of his companion, who had pulled him backwards in the nick of time. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you ready yourself for another go. 

They won’t fool you. There’s space in the auditorium—you’ll make space.

“Jesus Christ, put the axe down!” yells the man.

Each word is raw, grating on your ears. You don’t move; you can’t move.

“Bob, stop,” snaps the first man. His hands are up now, palms flat as though facing off with a wild animal. “Look, we’re not going to do anything,” he says, punctuating each word. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Beside him, the other one reaches for his gun. Your mind flashes—weapon. They want to hurt you. They’re going to kill you. Your knuckles turn white.

Your head shakes of its own volition. You know fear; you’re looking at it in his eyes. 

Was he… afraid of you?

“You’re alone, right?” he asks, unmoving. “We can take you back with us.”

No reply comes. Your head swims. You don’t trust him. You can’t trust him. But something in his tone—something warm and steady—pulls at you. You’re not sure why.

Something stirs inside of you. Back?

Despite your silence, your expression must have given you away. The man stands straighter, slowly letting his arms retract and settle in at his sides. 

His eyes flicker to your hatchet before he clears his throat, “We have a community. It’s not much yet but we’re making it into a home,” he says, gesturing between himself and the cautious man. “Us and a few others.”

Your body is screaming from exertion at this point. The hatchet trembles in your hands, but you don’t lower it.

“Th—there—” 

You pause; your voice isn’t coming out. It’s ragged and the stutter is a new development. 

All this time… had you forgotten how it felt to speak?

You force a swallow and try again. “There are o—others?” you eventually manage.

The man with the frightened eyes doesn’t respond, but his companion—Bob, you recall—crosses his arms over his chest. “How long’s it been since you seen someone, huh?” he asks brusquely.

Three-hundred-and-ninety-six days.

You shake your head. The action seems to irritate him. He dares an approach, and like a trigger pulled, your trembles evolve into full-blown convulsing. Your heel slides back on a pool of blood, the shift in balance unsettling you. 

“Hey, hey—” A voice breaks through, fixing your attention. “Look at me.” 

The man whose name you do not know crouches just enough to toss his gun to the floor. The weapon lands with a dull splatter. Bob’s follows—much to his dismay.

The action does little to ease your concerns.

What if these men weren’t real? 

Your mind has done this before—crafted strangers out of silence. It wouldn’t be the first time you mistook the undead for a familiar face. Worse thoughts suddenly cross you:

What if they are real? What did they want with you—what would they do to you?

Quick as a blink, you’re back on guard. 

The weaponless man sighs. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve been through, or how you’ve managed to hide out here this long…” he says, pausing for a moment. “But you can’t stay. This place reeks of death.”

The word lingers in the air. He directs a grimace at the audience of blue-black corpses behind you.

“God, it smells so bad.”

Before you can reply, he's back looking at you—through you, almost—like he’s staring into the very foundation of your being.

“You don’t want to rot away here, do you?” 

You stand frozen, unable to respond. Your throat tightens as you search for words, but none come.

Bob’s impatience cuts through the moment. “Glenn, let’s get out of here already. You can’t save ‘em all. This one’s bat-shit,” 

The words don’t sting; they barely register. In this moment, your eyes are only trained on the man whose head you almost dislodged from his shoulders—Glenn. 

He’s waiting. You can discern no pity in his face, no judgment. Just an offer.

You say nothing. 

After a beat, Glenn gives you a small nod and concedes. Bob counters with a told-you-so sort of look before retrieving his pistol from the floor—wiping it over his jeans. 

They prepare to leave.

“W—wait.” 

It’s barely louder than a breath, but Glenn hears it. He stops, turning just enough to face you. 

Your chest is heaving now, the anxiety, palpable. Every instinct screams at you to run, to hide, to stay locked in the little supply cupboard at the end of the hall.

“I’ll go,” you say instead.

Glenn doesn’t smile—there’s nothing triumphant about it—but his own fear seems to have left him. He keeps a good distance but beckons you with his hand; it’s clean. 

“Come on then,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.” 

—

Bob is dry-heaving in the passenger seat. 

The heat of the truck only amplified the stench of death clinging to you. They were right; it is awful. Back at the college, you did your best to bathe somewhat, with whatever water you could scavenge. But it was never enough. The foul miasmas had seeped into everything: your clothes, your skin, your sweat. It would take some time to air out. 

Curling tighter to the door, you try to avoid Glenn’s strained expression in the rearview mirror.

“Told you it was bad,” he says. His tone is light, far too casual; it makes you want to sink into the seats. “Nothing a good shower won’t fix, though?”

You can’t bring yourself to nod. Perhaps you’d feel ashamed had it not been for the unadulterated panic ripping through you. Everything is too much: the thrum of the engine, the weight of the hatchet on your thigh, the sunlight—

How long had it been since you’d seen it? Four months?

That’s right. It had been four months since the generator had sputtered out, leaving you to exist in the dark for the remaining two-hundred-and-sixty-odd days. In truth, you’d grown used to it. Most windows you’d pasted with newspapers from the old art room, so even the sunniest days were reduced to a shadow. The open sky feels wrong to you now, like it’s exposing you to things you’d forgotten how to face.

You try not to blink. Each time the sun slices through the trees, it adds to the utter overstimulation. Your muscles are spasming, sapping the little energy you have left. The movement is making the smell worse. Glenn flicks the fans in a poor attempt to cycle the air, and almost immediately, you’re greeted by warm wafts of your own stench. 

Bob sticks his head further out the window. You cough wetly—trying not to vomit.

“Deep breaths,” Glenn reminds. You catch his eyes flicking between you and the road. “We’re almost there.”

You don’t answer; you can’t.

“Though I am going to warn you about something,” he adds. Hesitation lines his voice, doing nothing for your nerves. “I don’t want you to freak out, but… our community is, uh, in a prison.”

A prison?

The word ricochets in your head.

Your jaw slackens as you process the words. Glenn hurriedly continues. “Hey, it’s okay,” he blurts, “We’re not gonna lock you up or anything.”

His reassurance does little to stem the panic.

“We’re locked up now anyway,” Bob mutters from the passenger side. “Stuck in this hotbox with a raging loon.” 

Glenn smacks him. The truck veers as he forfeits the wheel, but he's quick to correct it. He finds your eyes in the mirror again. “I promise it’s safe. Safer than anywhere else we’ve found.”

You don’t believe him.

But before you can spiral any further, the truck slows, rolling to a stop in front of a chain-link fence. Beyond, a prison looms in the distance—a great hulking thing absent of any colour—and from it, a figure comes jogging to open the gates. You're here.

At the sight of another unfamiliar face, your doubts make themselves known.

Run. You have to get out. Run. Run. Run—

The door handle is in your hand before you realise it. The truck hasn’t fully stopped, but you shove it open anyway. The rush of motion tilts the vehicle, and Glenn curses as he hits the breaks.

The ground comes up fast. Your legs give out the moment they hit dirt. Above you, the sunlight is blinding. This time, you’re sure you’ll be sick.

“Whoa, hey, hold up!” 

A woman’s voice brings you back. Before you can react, there’s a pressure under your arm—hands, firm but steady. You instinctively jerk away but you’re too weak to pull free.

“Don’t struggle. It’s okay,” she soothes. Trembling, you force yourself to look up. 

Crouching before you is a woman with cropped hair, her features delicate yet hard. As her eyes sweep over your body, you catch a flicker of sadness in them.

“Goodness, you poor thing,” she murmurs. “Seems like Glenn’s brought home another stray.”

Her arm slips under yours again, and this time you let her help you up. There’s no fight left in you; it’s taking every morsel of strength to hug your hatchet to your chest. Each step is heavier than the last, but her encouragement—almost motherly—keeps you moving.

You try not to stare as she leads you toward the main building. People move around the yard. Real people. More than you’ve seen in months. Their voices blur together, too loud, too close, and you want nothing more than to shrink away from all of it.

As you make it inside, the air is cooler but no less stifling.

You're in a cell block. It's stark, structurally plain. Metal bars, concrete floors, and the faint scent of bleach that doesn’t quite mask something darker. In the center of the room is a makeshift cooking area, a hodgepodge of furniture surrounding a lunch table poached from the outer yard. A small group gathers there.

You do a quick count: Man. Man. Child. Woman. Baby—

Your brow furrows. Baby?

The woman cradling the infant has dark skin and neat locs, as opposed to the child, whose parents were probably another casualty of this world. She maintains her distance.

“Rick,” the woman at your side calls out, garnering the attention of everyone. 

A man responds to the name. He cuts through the group with measured steps. His stature is lean, his features weathered. He’s dressed simply—dark jeans, boots, a tan button-down rolled to the elbows—but his stance, the set of his jaw, that air of gravitas… It all screams leader. 

You plant yourself firm into the floor. 

The man—Rick—scarcely spares you a glance. “Another one?” he asks Glenn from over your head. “Where d’you pick ‘em up this time?”

“Old community college,” Glenn answers.

Rick lets out a short, tired breath. “Okay,” he says, before directing his attention toward you. “Then answer me this: how many walkers—”

He stops mid-sentence. For the first time, he really sees you. His expression sours as he does a quick scan, taking in every detail from your bare feet to the stained-red hatchet embedded in your chest. You see his nose twitch as he inhales.

“Rick...” the short-haired woman interjects, placing a hand to his chest. “Not now,” she says firmly.

“Not now,” Rick echoes. The frown lines marring his brow soften slightly. “It’s okay,” he says instead. “You’re safe now.”

You blink once.

Safe? Why does everyone keep saying that—Like it’s some guarantee?

Something in his eyes tells you he doesn’t believe it either; like he’s said those words too many times before.

“It’s not much, but it’s a roof and four walls. It’s a place to raise our kids.” Rick nods his head at the child with his likeness, a brown-haired boy in a deputy hat, and then to the woman holding the baby. “We’ve got water here—food. Daryl’s a hunter, and a damn good one. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

You’re only half-listening. At the mention of another name, your eyes drift past Rick, settling on the figure at the edge of the group.

That’s the hunter—Daryl. You can tell by the crossbow slung across his back, and the dirt stains on his skin, far greater in number than the rest of them. His stance was casual but guarded, his sleeveless shirt exposing corded muscle. You catch his eyes, pinned under a mop of tawny fringe. 

They’re the kind that don’t miss a thing. 

You can tell he’s studying you just as closely as you’re studying him. There’s a tension in his posture, like a rubber band ready to snap at a moment’s notice. It unsettles you.

It frightens you.

“She should lie down,” Glenn says, breaking the silence, “Let Hershel take a look at her when he’s back.”

Rick nods. Instinctively, he reaches out to steady you as you sway on your feet. 

“I can walk,” you mutter, words barely audible. “I can walk.”

No one listens.

There’s an exchange of glances between Rick and the short-haired woman. Then, with a gesture so slow it feels deliberate, she steps in close again, threading your arm through hers. Her grip is firm but unobtrusive; you feel yourself leaning into her without meaning. 

Glenn attempts to relieve you of the hatchet, but you twist away, eyes flashing with warning. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he placates.

The next thing you know, you’re being led into the prison’s interior. The cell they bring you to is small, the cot inside neatly made. But the room feels too open, too exposed. You hesitate at the doorway.

“This one’s yours,” Rick states simply. As he points, a keychain jingles at his belt. 

You fixate on it. “The—The key?” you question.

Rick’s brow furrows. He hesitates, then thumbs through the chain until he finds the one he’s looking for—a long, slender thing with a dull shine. 

“Here,” he says. “Take it if it makes you feel better.”

It does.

You don’t mean to snatch it from him, but the warmth of his hand is unexpected, and you find yourself clawing for the key. Tucking it into your palm, you slide the gate shut. It latches with a clink, and a shaky breath escapes you.

“Right, well...” Rick steps back, giving you space. “Get some rest. We’ll come check on you in a bit.”

He lingers for a moment longer, his hand hovering over the bars like he’s deliberating prodding an animal at the zoo. When you don’t respond, he straightens and beckons Glenn to follow him out. The kind woman gives you one last reassuring nod before retreating, her boots echoing down the corridor.

Alone again.

Despite your fatigue, you don’t move to the cot. It’s far too clean. Instead, you yank the sheets from it, piling them onto the floor in the furthest corner of the room. They bunch at your feet, turning the colour of rust as dried blood flakes from your skin. Quietly, you sink down into your new bed.

For once your mind is empty. Your eyes, unblinking, stare at the expanse of wall. It feels wrong in some way you can’t quite place. Instinctively, your fingers find the loose match in your pocket—the one you kept for emergencies. You strike it and watch the flame quiver for a brief moment before blowing it out.

With the blackened end, you draw a tally mark on the stone before you:

One.

There’s plenty of space on these walls.

A/N And that's chapter one! It's been years since I've written anything like this, but I have big things planned. My style has definitely changed (hopefully for the better) and this series will be heavier than my previous stuff... But that hopefully means better payoff. I'd love to hear your thoughts. In all honesty, I was a little nervous about sharing this. I don't know if anyone still reads my stories, or even cares, so some feedback would be appreciated :) See you in the next one x

[bambieyedoll]

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

biker!daryl dixon x reader

“c’mon, hun” daryl caressed your arm as he walked passed you and towards his bike. your eyes followed him as you turned around only to see him turn on the engine. “let’s get outta here” he said waiting for you and with an excited little smile, you walked to him. his protective gaze never leaving you as the soft touch of your hand laid on his shoulder and you sat down behind him ready for the wild ride.

[wolvietxt]

𝓭aryl 𝓭ixon

… as your boyfriend !

pairing : daryl dixon x reader warnings : fluff, headcannons, slightly suggestive wc : ~700

꩜ daryl's not much for public displays of affection, but when it’s just the two of you, his guard’s down. he’s incredibly soft with you, even if he doesn’t say much. he’ll just hold you, strong arms wrapped around you while his hand rests on the back of your head, his touch warm and steady

꩜ sometimes, when you’re alone together, he’ll back you up against a wall, his hands braced on either side of you as he leans in close. he doesn’t say much, just looks at you with that intense gaze, his lips hovering near yours until you finally close the distance. he likes drawing out the anticipation, watching the way you react to him

꩜ he’s surprisingly attentive in small ways. he’ll remember exactly how you like your food, even if he’s never cared much about stuff like that before. when he’s out on runs, he brings back things just for you, little finds he thinks you’d like - a flower, an old record, or a jacket he thinks would look cute on you

꩜ his fingers tend to linger on you without him even realizing it. whether it’s resting a hand on your knee when you’re sitting next to each other or brushing your arm as he walks past, he’s just naturally drawn to you, needing to be close

꩜ when you’re around others, he keeps his distance, but if he senses you’re even the slightest bit uncomfortable, he moves closer. he doesn’t say anything, just stands next to you, solid and dependable, his quiet way of letting you know he’s got you

꩜ he’s got a habit of pulling you into his lap, especially when he’s feeling possessive. his hands slide down your sides, holding you in place as he presses slow, lingering kisses to your neck. sometimes he’ll let his lips trail along your jaw, whispering a quiet “mine” against your skin, a little rough but so full of warmth

꩜ when he thinks you’re asleep, he’ll sometimes just watch you, his hand gently brushing a stray hair from your face. he has this soft, almost vulnerable look in his eyes, like he can’t believe you’re really his. sometimes, he’ll press the gentlest kiss to your forehead, whispering things he’d be too shy to say when you’re awake

꩜ whenever he catches you looking down or upset, he’ll do these little things to make you smile - like placing wildflowers he finds in your hair, even if he acts embarrassed afterward. he’ll try to hide how happy it makes him when you smile back, but you’ll catch him stealing these quick, soft glances, his own quiet way of showing he cares

꩜ when things are quiet, he’ll sometimes pull you into his lap and rest his chin on your shoulder, his rough hands resting on your hips. he doesn’t say much, but his fingers trace small circles on your skin, like he’s memorizing the feel of you

꩜ he has a soft spot for seeing you in his clothes, especially his shirts. when he sees you wearing one, he’ll get this shy, almost proud look, glancing away with a small grin but pulling you close anyway

꩜ he’s gentle with his kisses, at first just soft brushes of his lips, like he’s savoring every second. but when things start to heat up, he’s more confident, a little rougher, his hands gripping your waist like he never wants to let go

꩜ whenever you’re curled up in bed together, he’ll run his fingers through your hair or trace lazy patterns on your back until you fall asleep. it’s his way of comforting you, making sure you’re safe, even if he’d never admit how much he likes doing it

🌀 daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[darylsfavoritegirl]

──୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ──

⋆˚࿔ divine 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

MASTERLIST

Daryl Dixon🪱

𓇻 headcanons

enemies to lovers

walking out with a lingerie on ꩜ nsfw content

daryl is into roleplay

would daryl fuck you in the woods?

dying on daryl's arms

daryl with a girl just like him

daryl as a kid

a toxic relationship with daryl

general headcanons sfw ꩜ nsfw content

tease

sextape

𓇻 oneshots

captured in the woods

bonding over a similar past ꩜ male reader

"get your shit together."

"i'll take care o' yea."

first encounter ꩜ 1

first encounter ꩜ 2

stuck by the pool ꩜ nsfw content

games in the cabin

the dickhead ꩜ 1

the dickhead ꩜ 2

the caretaker

the odd man out

𓇻 moodboards

dating daryl dixon

Rick Grimes 🎰

𓇻 headcanons

get it on ꩜ nsfw content

Erik Lehnsherr ⛓️

𓇻 headcanons

comrade

Logan Howlett-Wolverine •⚟

𓇻 headcanons

logan adores you ꩜ nsfw content

logan touches himself ꩜ nsfw content

𓇻 oneshots

the one in the dark

𓇻 moodboards

date nights with logan

i sometimes do fanart, here they are.

wolverine&deadpool

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

𔘓 i usually write for fem!reader since that's what i'm most comfortable with.

𔘓 we can always have a chat if you wanna! i'm not necessarily the most active person here but i ain't never dry text lol

𔘓 you can keep your weird requests to yourself :) !

"people in hell want slurpees"

D.D

[thevegandarkelf]

Vec: *walks into their home to see Daryl shirtless in the kitchen* *sighs* I need you to put a shirt on.

Daryl: There a problem?

Vec: I’m ovulating, I can’t do this right now.

Daryl, chuckling: Jus’ for that, I ain’t doin’ it.

Vec, playfully: Fuck you.

Daryl: Name the time ‘n place ’n I’m all yours, sunshine.

Vec: … *blushes*

Vec: I walked right into that one, didn’t I?

Daryl: Sure’s shit did.

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Vec is my OC, she belongs to me

[mawidixon]

"I will be your light in this cruel world"

Daryl x fem!reader

one-shot

Genre: fluff

Setting: Season 5 - Alexandria

Warnings: Twd violance (killing walkers and other stuff), swearing

Summary: Daryl never thought about marriage until he stumbled upon a beautiful ring in an abandoned jewelry store. From that moment, he put all his effort into making the engagement special.

A/N: I love that one-shot! I wanted to write Ink and Ashes first, but I just needed to write this!

@mawi22 I don't want my work to be modified, copied, or any of this kind of stuff without my consent!!!

It was one of those days when nothing seemed to happen and all the time was wasted. Daryl was on the run, alone because you were assisting Carol in cooking a meal for the rest of the people. To make matters worse, you had accidentally cut your leg while in the woods and you could not run in case of anything. Daryl, the hunter that he is, was now walking on a street that looked as if it had been abandoned. Attached to his belt were several rabbits that he had killed during the day.

The street was deserted; the closed shops bore testimony to what they used to be some time back. Cracked wooden panels and peeled paint spoke of a different reality that no longer existed. Daryl’s eyes shifted from one store to the other, the archer was ever vigilant. He was not only hunting for food but he was looking for anything that could be of use back in Alexandria.

He walked around each shop with purpose, looking for groceries, food tins, medicine, utensils, clothes, and other items. The rabbits followed the movements of the man, a small sign that he was successful in hunting. With every twist of the handle of a door and every crunch of his boots on the floor littered with debris, his senses were heightened. Daryl was determined; Alexandria required much more than food, and he aimed to make the people there as ready as they could be.

Soon, Daryl approached a destroyed jewelry store, its windows shattered and the door barely hanging on its hinges. With a cautious glance around, he pushed the door open, the jingle of a broken bell echoing eerily in the silence. Inside, the store was a chaotic mess, but remarkably, the displays of rings, necklaces, and other jewelry remained largely untouched. As he stepped further in, Daryl's eyes scanned the glittering pieces. Gold, silver, and other precious metals lay scattered about, some adorned with diamonds, others with various gemstones. The price tags, still attached, revealed their former value—these items had been incredibly expensive. In the old world, Daryl wouldn't have given them a second look, their opulence far removed from his everyday concerns. But now, in this new world where rules no longer applied, he could take whatever he wanted without consequence. Yet, the question lingered: what was the point?

Daryl continued his search, moving from display to display, his mind occupied with thoughts of Alexandria and the group. He checked behind counters, opened drawers, and scanned the room for anything useful. He was about to leave, dismissing the jewelry as unnecessary, when something caught his eye.

In a dusty display case near the back, a beautiful gold ring with a shiny sapphire gleamed faintly. The deep blue stone seemed to capture the dim light perfectly, drawing him closer. Daryl's thoughts immediately turned to you. He remembered the welcome party in Alexandria, how stunning you looked in that blue dress, the way it brought out the color in your eyes. The sapphire reminded him of that exact shade. He stood there for a moment, the ring in his hand, feeling an unexpected wave of sentimentality. In the chaos of their current lives, moments of normalcy and beauty were rare. This ring, this small token, could bring a bit of that back. He imagined your face lighting up when he gave it to you, a symbol of something good amidst the turmoil.

With a newfound resolve, Daryl slipped the ring into his pocket and left the store. The day, which had started as long and monotonous, had suddenly gained a new purpose. He continued his search of the abandoned street, but now with a hint of a smile, knowing he had found something special for you.

"I dun' know when to give 'er this ring," Daryl said, his rough voice barely a murmur as he twirled the sapphire ring between his fingers. The deep blue gem caught the light, casting small reflections on the walls of the dimly lit room.

Rick, leaning against the doorframe, glanced at the ring and then back at Daryl. "You've been together for a long time," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Maybe it's time to propose to her." Daryl shook his head, a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt clouding his usually stoic expression. "Nah, she gonna say no," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the ring. Rick stepped closer, his brows furrowing in concern. "Why do you think like that?" he asked. "She loves you, man. And you love her. What's the problem?"

Daryl let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It's jus'... things ain't never been normal for me, Rick. I ain't used to all this," he gestured vaguely with the ring, indicating the weight of emotions and commitments it represented. "What if I ain't good enough for 'er?" Rick's expression softened. He placed a reassuring hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Listen, we've all been through hell and back. None of us are the same as we were before all this. But what you have with her, that's real."

Daryl glanced up, meeting Rick's eyes. There was a flicker of hope in his otherwise guarded expression. "Ya really think she'd say yes?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Rick nodded firmly. "I do. She's stuck by you through everything, Daryl. That means something. She sees the good in you, even when you don't see it in yourself."

...

After that talk with Rick, Daryl began seriously thinking about how to propose. He knew it had to be perfect, something truly special. Unsure of how to go about it, he sought advice from Carol and a few others. Carol, always insightful and supportive, offered him some ideas and shared stories of heartfelt proposals she had witnessed.

With their guidance, Daryl finally crafted a plan. He remembered how much you loved daisy flowers, and he knew of a meadow not too far from Alexandria where plenty of daisies grew. It was a place you often spoke about with fondness, a reminder of simpler, happier times. He also knew the perfect spot to propose—a secluded lake nestled in the middle of the forest. This location held a special place in his heart, reminding him of your gentle touch and the soft kisses you often placed on his forehead. The tranquility and beauty of the lake made it the ideal setting for such an important moment.

Determined, Daryl set his plan into motion. He decided to tell you he had arranged a special date, something to brighten your spirits and provide a brief escape from the harsh realities of their world. On the day of the proposal, he rose early and made his way to the meadow. There, amidst the tall grass and wildflowers, he carefully picked a bouquet of the freshest, most beautiful daisies, picturing the delight on your face when you saw them.

"Y/N! You really dun' have to do make-up. Remember we're goin' to the forest," Daryl called out from behind the door, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and affectionate concern.

Inside the room, you were transforming yourself into a vision of beauty. With careful precision, you applied your makeup, enhancing your features with subtle touches. Your eyes sparkled with a hint of eyeliner, your lips a soft shade of pink. As you finished, you turned to the beautiful long white dress that Jessie had given you. The fabric was soft and flowed gracefully around you, hugging your figure perfectly and making you feel elegant and radiant.

You slipped into the dress, smoothing it down and twirling slightly to see how it moved. The dress was more than just clothing; it was a piece of the old world, a reminder of times when dressing up was a regular part of life. In this dress, you felt a connection to those memories, a sense of normalcy that was rare in these harsh times. True, you were heading into the forest where walkers could be lurking, but you felt confident. Your experiences had honed your survival skills, and you knew you could fight and run if necessary, even in a long dress. The dress might be unconventional for such an outing, but it made you feel special, and you wanted to hold onto that feeling.

You took a final look in the mirror, admiring the transformation. The long white dress accentuated your grace and poise, and the makeup highlighted your natural beauty. With a deep breath, you turned towards the door and opened it. Daryl stood there, his rugged features softening as he took in your appearance. His eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and admiration flickering across his face. He scratched the back of his head, looking a bit flustered.

"You look...amazing," he said, his voice sincere and a bit husky. "But you sure 'bout that dress? We might have to run."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "I'm sure, Daryl."

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, jus' stay close to me."

You nodded, and together you stepped outside. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over Alexandria, and the path to the forest beckoned. As you walked beside Daryl, the dress swaying with your movements, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. Whatever the day held, you were ready to face it, with Daryl by your side and a touch of elegance to remind you of the beauty still left in the world.

You had been walking for about ten minutes when you finally reached the place by the lake. The forest seemed to part just for you, revealing the serene expanse of water nestled among the trees. The wind gently swayed the leaves, creating a soothing rustling sound, and the lake's surface was calm, reflecting the late afternoon sky like a mirror. You and Daryl found a spot by the water's edge, where the grass was soft and inviting. As you sat down, you couldn't help but wonder if Daryl had scouted and cleaned up this area beforehand. There were no walkers in sight, save for maybe two or three in the far distance, making you feel surprisingly safe and at ease.

Settling onto the grass, you let out a contented sigh. The tranquility of the place was mesmerizing, and you felt a rare sense of peace wash over you. Daryl sat beside you, his presence warm and comforting. As you talked and laughed together, he reached out and rested his hand on your thigh, a simple gesture that always made you blush. His touch was gentle yet possessive, a silent reassurance of his affection. You glanced at him, catching the way he was looking at you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness that made your heart flutter. The intensity of his gaze left no doubt in your mind-Daryl adored you. Each look, each touch, spoke volumes of his love and devotion.

The conversation flowed easily between you, interspersed with moments of comfortable silence. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the lake and the surrounding trees. You leaned back on your hands, your dress spreading out around you like a halo, and took in the beauty of the scene. The soft hum of nature, the warmth of Daryl's hand on your thigh, and the serene ambiance of the lake combined to create a perfect moment. Daryl shifted slightly, and you turned to look at him again. He seemed a bit nervous, his usual calm demeanor tinged with something else. He took a deep breath, and you felt a sense of anticipation build.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and earnest. "There's somethin' I wanna ask" Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him reach into his pocket. The world seemed to slow down as he pulled out a small box and opened it to reveal a beautiful gold ring with a sparkling sapphire.

"Will ya marry me?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and love.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at the ring and then back at Daryl. This moment, in this beautiful place, was everything you had ever dreamed of. With a joyous smile and a heart full of love, you answered him.

"Yes!" you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and you both leaned in for a kiss, sealing the promise of a future together. The lake and the forest stood as silent witnesses to your love.

As you admired your new ring, you noticed Daryl seemed a bit uneasy. "You okay?" you asked, your voice filled with concern.

"Yeah...jus' I forgot 'bout..." he muttered, sighing heavily. You gave him a look that immediately coaxed the rest of his words out. "I wanted to give ya daisy flowers but I fuckin' forgot. 'M sorry," he admitted, his eyes dropping with a hint of regret.

Your face softened, and you laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You can give me them at home. There's nothing to be sorry for."

Just then, you both heard a cracking sound. Daryl immediately stood up, crossbow in hand, ready for action. Emerging from the trees were six walkers, their movements slow but menacing. Without hesitation, Daryl shot four of them with swift precision. You sprang to your feet, adrenaline coursing through you, and with swift, practiced movements, you took down the remaining two, leaving your dress and pretty face splattered with blood. Despite the gore, you smiled triumphantly. Daryl looked at your blood-stained dress and shook his head. "I could've shot them all, darlin'. No blood on your dress was needed."

You glanced at the lake and chuckled. "Maybe a quick bath?" you suggested, a mischievous glint in your eye. Looking at your future husband, you smirked and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him towards the water. "Come on!" With a playful laugh, you both stumbled into the lake, the cool water washing away the blood and grime. The sudden chill took your breath away, but the laughter and the joy of the moment kept you warm. You felt the weight of the world lift as you splashed around with Daryl, the man you loved.

The atmosphere was perfect, filled with laughter and light. You looked at Daryl, his hair wet and his eyes twinkling with happiness, and felt a surge of love and gratitude. This man, who had been through so much, was your friend, your partner, and soon, your husband.

As you floated together in the lake, the setting sun casting a golden hue over the water, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The feeling that you would soon be married to the man you loved filled you with joy. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

You are his light and hope for a better tomorrow.

[dixons-sunshine]

Crushes Are For School Girls | Quarters Of The Undead

Summary: Crushes—the innocent little glances. The blushing. The butterflies. We all get them. For Georgianna, it was much more than that. The crush in question had those same butterflies, though, stealing the same innocent glances. And everyone seemed to notice…except for her.

Era: Quarry.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex, one sexual comment (from Merle).

Word count: 4k.

Pairings: Georgie x Daryl (unestablished); Vec x Scud (established)

A/N: Thank you, @thevegandarkelf, for helping me with the summary. You’re amazing. Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

“Why am I like this?”

“You have a crush, Ginny. It’s natural to feel this way.”

“Yeah, well crushes suck. Crushes are for school girls, not for women of my grown ass age.”

Vec chuckled as she gingerly rubbed Georgianna’s back, the woman in question being face planted into her pillow on her sleeping bag. “There, there, Gin. It’s okay. You’ll survive this.”

Despite the reassurance, Georgianna still groaned into the pillow, feeling utterly stupid about the turmoil of emotions whirring around in her being. However, the most prominent feeling was the one in her stomach, one which could only be described as butterflies. Butterflies because of something so simple. Butterflies because her hair got tucked behind her ear. Butterflies because of the man that wielded a crossbow and had become the starring attraction in her nightly dreams.

A man named Daryl Dixon.

Georgianna did not even fully understand how she had started spending time with the archer in the first place. Her tent—that she shared with both her best friend, Vec, and Vec’s boyfriend, Scud—had been set up on the outskirts of the camp, right next to those of the Dixon brothers’, so it was only natural that they would have had to converse with one another.

However, the friendship that had bloomed—and surprisingly, rather quickly, too—between Georgianna and Daryl was something completely unexpected. And the crush that Georgianna harboured on the man was also, completely, one hundred percent unexpected—to her more than anyone.

And now Vec—and sometimes Scud—had to put up with her yammering on about Daryl, and she felt rather guilty about it, because she was talking about him a lot.

The sound of the tent flap opening caught both Georgianna and Vec’s attention. Vec stood up from the ground and Georgianna rolled over and sat back up, Georgianna sent a nod in Scud’s direction, which instantly confused the man.

“Woah, what’s up with you?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where’s the eye roll? The scoff? The ‘oh great, it’s you’? Where’s the Marianne I know and don’t love?”

Vec laughed lightly at that, before shaking her head. “She’s too lovesick to insult you today.”

Georgianna sent a glare in Vec’s direction. “Traitor,” she mouthed to her, only earning a falsely innocent smile in return.

“Ooh, okay,” Scud replied to Vec’s statement, his lips contorting up into a smirk. “So what is it about this time? His arms? His shoulders? His hands? His as—”

“Okay!” Georgianna cut him off, rolling her eyes at the laughter that tumbled out of his mouth, before shifting her attention back to Vec. “I don’t talk about him that much, do I?”

Vec hummed and shook her head. “No. Nope, not really. You pretty much talk about him the same amount I did back when I first started dating Josh.”

“Jesus, I’m that bad?” Georgianna whispered to herself, mildly horrified at that admission. “Fucking hell, I need to be put down.”

“You talked about me a lot?” Scud mused in a sickeningly lovestruck tone of voice, coming up to stand next to Vec, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

Vec rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him, not enough to do any damage. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she told him, trying to calm the heat that formed in her cheeks.

“Never,” Scud chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Vec’s shoulders and pulled her into him, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re so cute when you blush, y’know that?”

“Yeah? Well—”

“If you two wanna get down and dirty tonight, just let me know so that I can move my sleeping bag to someone else’s tent,” Georgianna chimed in, drawing the couple’s attention back to reality.

Scud rolled his eyes, but made no effort to remove his arm from its position around Vec. “Who would you even stay with? I thought Vec was your only friend.”

“Very funny,” Georgianna replied in a monotone voice.

“I know who would willingly offer to let her stay with them,” Vec voiced, a small, teasing smirk on her face. “I’ll give you a tip. Their name rhymes with ‘Meryl’.”

“Wow, you’re super subtle about that,” Georgianna scoffed, pushing herself up from her sleeping bag. She grabbed her pencil and sketchbook from her bag, before sending Vec a small smile. “I can offer up an hour of me being away from the tent. I’m gonna be out by the main campfire. Just stay away from my sleeping bag. I would highly prefer not to sleep next to Scud’s jizz stains tonight, thank you very much.”

The blush that coated Vec’s cheeks was bright enough to make tomatoes jealous. However, she simply nodded at her. “Thanks.”

Whether something would happen between her and Scud in that one hour, she did not know. What she did know, however, was that the younger Dixon brother was fixing up his crossbow by the campfire, with nobody else around for the time being, meaning that Georgianna and Daryl would be completely alone… It was the perfect set up.

Closing the tent flap behind her, Georgianna let out a small sigh, before making good on her words and trudging forward towards the campfire. The Hawkins woman was surprised by the lack of chatter that night. Usually, most of the adults in the camp would talk away until they absolutely had to go back to their tents. Those late night talks was something unofficially instituted to attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy in a crazy world run by the undead. However, that night, there was absolutely nobody around. It seemed like everyone had decided to turn in early that night. Well, everyone except a certain blue-eyed archer.

Georgianna did not even notice Daryl until she was standing a mere few feet away from him. Admittedly, she was so deep in thought that, had he not cleared his throat, she probably would have gone and sat right on his lap, completely unaware that the seat was otherwise occupied.

Georgianna’s eyes widened in surprise, before she schooled her expression to one of nonchalance, a friendly smile on her face. “Daryl, hi.”

The archer nudged his nose up in a half nod. “Hey, Georgie.”

The way he said her name, the gruffness that laced his tone, but mixed with a softness that was reserved purely for her—at least, if she chose to believe what Vec told her—had her weak in the knees. However, she forced herself to remain upright, refusing to make a complete fool of herself in front of the man she so desperately wished she did not have a crush on.

“Uh, mind if I sit?” she asked softly, motioning over to the chair next to him.

Daryl shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Georgianna nodded and sat down in the seat. Although this was not the first time that she had spent time with the archer, this time around, it just felt… different. She could not fully explain it.

Daryl shifted his attention back to his crossbow, fiddling with the strings as Georgianna opted to occupy her mind with her drawing. Free time became a luxury, and she truly treasured just being able to sit down and draw. She used to be able to sketch whenever, but with the world in shambles, she found herself lucky if she were able to even glance at her sketchbook once a week.

As she went about drawing, her legs curled up beneath her on the chair, Daryl took the opportunity to steal glances at her. In his mind, she truly looked ethereal in that moment. Her hair was tied up into a loose ponytail, but a few stray pieces of hair fell in wispy, curly strands in her face, acting as a curtain between her and the real world. Her brown, chocolate eyes were lightened by the glow of the campfire, giving them a more amber-like tone, and her cheeks were slightly pink, a colour that Daryl thought suited her.

God, she is gorgeous, Daryl thought to himself.

Daryl did not know exactly when he started developing feelings for the woman next to him, but he did know that his feelings were completely justified. She was damn near perfect in his eyes. She was so kind, so nice, and so goddamn considerate. She could be such a chatterbox, but whenever it came to him, she did not talk his ear off. It was like she could read his cues like the back of her hand, and she knew exactly when to back off and give him his space.

She was such a genuine person, and he could not help but feel drawn to her. Despite many attempts to put some distance between them, to withdraw himself from her until she got the hint, he just could not help it. He kept going back. She made him feel like less of a piece of garbage. She actually treated him like a human being, which is more than could be said for ninety nine percent of the other members of the group.

Realizing that he was staring at her for a beat too long, he ducked his head, instead focusing back on his crossbow. He just thanked whatever god was out there that she was too occupied with her drawing to realize his slip up.

“So,” Daryl began, surprisingly being the first one to strike up a conversation, “how long have ya been doin’ that? Drawin’, I mean.”

Georgianna looked up at him, a bright smile on her face, one that had his stomach doing somersaults. “Not long, actually. I didn’t pick up the hobby until I was twenty-five. One of my students told me once that they bet I couldn’t recreate the Mona Lisa, and I proved them wrong.”

“I bet it looked great,” Daryl replied, placing his crossbow down on the ground next to him.

“Oh, no. It looked like dog shit,” Georgianna laughed, glancing between her drawing and the man next to her. “But it was a fun challenge. It made me realize that I wanted to be able to do that, you know? Create pictures from my mind alone. So I bought myself a bunch of supplies and every nigh, before bed, I’d draw anything and everything just to get some practice in. My TV, my coffee mug, my stuffed rabbit—”

“You had a stuffed rabbit? At twenty-five?” Daryl mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. That little piece of information was actually rather adorable.

Georgianna rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yes, I did. It was a gift from my dad when I turned nine. He…” she trailed off, her smile dimming at the thought of that awful time in her life. “He bought it for me as a way to help me cope with what happened with my—my mother.”

Daryl frowned slightly at the clear shift in the mood. The small, curious part of him wanted to ask what she was talking about, about what had happened with her mother, but the other, more logical side of him told him not to. She never pressed him for answers on anything he revealed of his life before, so he would respect that kindness she had showed him by reciprocating the sentiment.

“Yeah, I get that. The thing holds sentimental value or some bullshit like that, right?” Daryl said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Georgianna smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Some bullshit like that.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her sketchbook and letting it rest on her lap. “I wish I could have grabbed it before we left the city. It’s the one thing that can’t be replaced for me.”

Daryl hummed in acknowledgement. Not really knowing how to go about the situation, and clearly sensing that Georgianna needed a pick-me-up, he opted to change the topic. “What were ya drawin’?”

“The landscape,” Georgianna replied, motioning over to the treeline just beyond the array of tents. “The scenery is beautiful. I could get into what exactly I find beautiful, but something tells me that you’re not really into the whole “nature is a wonder” thing.”

“You’d be right ‘bout that,” Daryl chuckled. He looked back over to Georgianna, right in time to see her pull up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing something he had somehow never noticed until that point. “You have a tattoo?”

“Oh! Yes, I do,” she confirmed, twisting her body slightly to extend her arm and show him the picture permanently ingrained in her skin. “It’s a bunny tattoo.”

“From what ya told me jus’ a few moments ago, it seems pretty fittin’,” Daryl told her, leaning back in his chair. “When did ya get that?”

“About two years ago,” Georgianna replied after a moment of thinking. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo of an animal, and what better one to get than the one that holds the most sentimental value to me, right?��

“Right,” Daryl agreed with a light hum. “Ya really seem to like rabbits. So how much do ya cry when I bring dead ones back from my hunts?”

That made Georgianna laugh. The sound was like music to the archer’s ears, and Daryl felt a sense of pride knowing that he was the one that had caused it. It made him feel good about himself.

“Yes, I like rabbits, but I don’t cry when you bring dead ones back. I know that it’s vital for our survival. Their meat feeds us, but most importantly, they feed the kids. Carl, Sophia… The rabbits’ meat ensure that the kiddos don’t go to bed hungry. To me, that means that their sacrifices don’t go in vain.”

“That’s a nice way’a thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Daryl told her.

“Yeah.” She leaned back in her own chair, her chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement as she gazed at Daryl. “I guess rabbits just really mean a lot to me. As a kid, my dad would take me and my brother out camping, and he’d always take us to this place in the woods where the rabbits were just about everywhere. They did not fear humans at all. I even woke up and found a baby bunny sleeping on my legs once. It was the cutest thing ever.”

“So ya really like rabbits.” It was more of a statement than a question, but he got an answer anyway.

“I do. They bring a sense of joy to me. They remind me of some of the happiest times in my life. I know, it’s weird.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ain’t nothin’ weird ‘bout that. It brings ya comfort. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Georgianna smiled at him, a soft, genuine one. “Thank you,” she thanked him softly.

“’Course.”

The silence that fell between them was not one of discomfort. That was one thing that Daryl appreciated about the woman; the ability to sit with her in complete silence, and not have it be awkward. She knew exactly when to initiate a conversation with him, she knew exactly when Daryl preferred to sit in relative silence, and she knew exactly when he wanted to be left alone. That alone had been one of the many things that had drawn him to the woman in the first place, and he deeply appreciated her ability to read his social cues—or, well, lack thereof.

However, the silence did not last long at all. It got interrupted, and if looks could kill, Merle Dixon would be six feet under due to the glare Daryl was throwing his way.

“Holy shit, would ya look at this?” Merle laughed loudly, stumbling almost drunkenly towards the pair.

Georgianna instantly felt uncomfortable. She was a people person, but there were a select few people that she just could not bring herself to like, no matter how hard she tried; Shane Walsh, Ed Peletier, and Merle Dixon. And now the latter was ruining the serene moment that Daryl and Georgianna was having.

Wonderful, Georgianna thought to herself, pursing her lips together.

“Fuck off, Merle,” Daryl grumbled, shooting his brother a furious look. “M’not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Now s’that any way to address me in front of this hot piece’a ass, boy? Don’ embarrass me like that, lil’ brother. Not unless you want me to kick your teeth in.”

Georgianna inhaled deeply, held her breath for four seconds, before exhaling again. She was trying really hard not to lash out at the man and his vulgar comments. Despite everything, Georgianna knew how important Merle was to Daryl, and she did not want to risk losing his friendship because she had a fight with his brother, even if said brother was a complete jackass.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Georgianna declared. She picked up her sketchbook and pencil, before getting up. “Good night, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gently gripped Daryl’s shoulder in greeting, sending him one last smile, before she began stalking back towards her tent. Whether or not Vec and Scud were done doing the devil’s tango, she did not care. She wanted to faceplant into her pillow and throw the towel in for the day.

Daryl watched Georgianna’s retreating figure, his hand gingerly touching where her’s had gripped his shoulder not even ten seconds ago. Unwillingly, a small smile played on his lips, and his heart was galloping in his chest. Her touch felt so nice. Her hand was so soft, so warm. He definitely wanted to feel that again. That thought alone was rather terrifying.

Daryl got snapped from his thoughts by the sound of Merle’s loud, obnoxious voice, and he seriously wanted to punch his brother in that moment. “Jus’ shut up, Merle,” he mumbled, getting up from the chair, picking up his crossbow, and making his way over to his tent.

When Georgianna got back to the tent, she was surprised to find the tent flap already open. When she stepped into the material shelter, she was even more surprised to see Vec sitting upright in her sleeping bag, Scud laying on his back next to her, both pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly.

“So, how’d it go?” Vec asked in a sing-song voice, pushing her glasses up her nose when they slipped off a bit.

Georgianna, choosing to play dumb, frowned at her. “How’d what go?”

Vec scoffed at her. “Babe, please. We’ve been friends since before we could even talk. I know that look. Now spill.”

Georgianna rolled her eyes and sighed over dramatically. “Fine, fine.” She dropped her sketchbook and pencil onto her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes off and dropped down onto her sleeping bag, before sitting up and facing her best friend. “Before you ask, no. Nothing romantic happened. We just talked.”

“You hear that, Vee? They just talked,” Scud chimed in. He pushed himself to sit upright so that he could properly see Georgianna, a smirk on his face. “We,” he began, motioning between him and Vec, “started off just talking, too. Look at us today.”

“Well, Joshua, I’m not Vec, and Daryl most certainly isn’t you, thank god.”

Scud scoffed at that. “Yeah, thank god. Wouldn’t want two completely awesome me’s runnin’ around.”

“Then the camp would descend into complete and utter chaos. Then Deputy Dick would really hate us,” Georgianna quipped, before sighing. “Nothing happened between us, guys. I swear, we just talked. He asked me about my drawing, and then we talked about my love of rabbits. That’s all. Merle cut us off after that.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Vec exclaimed, a groan leaving her. “Fucking idiot. Just had to go and ruin the build up to the first kiss. God, I hate him.”

“Woah, woah, woah. You just skipped a million chapters ahead. Even if he didn’t interrupt, there most definitely would not have been a first kiss.” Georgianna looked down at her hands, a frown tugging at her eyebrows. “I doubt there ever will be a first kiss. I doubt Daryl even likes me like that.”

That made Vec spring into motion. She got up from her sleeping bag—after a bit of protest from Scud, but she quickly shushed him—and plopped herself down next to her best friend. She took Georgianna’s face into her hands and gently forced her chocolate brown eyes to meet her ocean-coloured ones, a serious, no nonsense look in their depths.

“Georgianna Marianne Hawkins, I’m gonna need you to listen to me very closely. I know you didn’t say it outright, but I know what’s whirring around in that pretty head of yours. There is absolutely, positively, one hundred percent, fuck all wrong with you. You’re an ethereal, amazing, goddamn goddess, and he would be lucky to have you. Anyone would be lucky to have you. In fact, I would be surprised if he didn’t want you. I wish you could see what I do. Daryl Dixon is down bad for you.”

“She’s right, y’know,” Scud chipped in. “His eyes follow you when you’re not looking. He thinks he’s being discreet, but the Scudster is amazin’ at pickin’ up stuff like that. That’s a look of enamour if I ever saw one.”

“See?” Vec asked. “He likes likes you, Babe. I promise.”

Georgianna really wanted to believe them. She really did. However, she just couldn’t. The friendship, albeit a relatively new one—barely over two months—she shared with Daryl was just too precious to risk. The crossbow-wielding archer was not particularly known for his openess towards befriending people in the camp. Georgianna had been the only outlier, and if she decided to make a move and it ended up being something he did not want, the friendship could potentially be ruined.

No, she did not want to risk that.

She gingerly removed Vec’s hands from her face, a rather sad smile gracing her features. “Maybe y’all are right. I’ll… I’ll think about it, okay?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Scud, the man in question laying back down, but Vec knew better. She frowned at Georgianna, and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“That didn’t make you feel better, did it?”

Georgianna glanced at Scud, before looking back at Vec. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Give you the whole run down on my emotions and shit.”

Vec slowly nodded. “I’m keeping you to that.”

Vec lightly ruffled Georgianna’s hair, laughing lightly when the woman swatted her hand away, before crawling back over to her sleeping bag a few feet away from her best friend’s.

The three inhabitants of the dark blue tent started settling in for the night. Vec cuddled up next to Scud after exchanging one last kiss with him for the night, before taking her glasses off and setting them down on the makeshift table. Scud’s eyes were already closed by the time Vec was completely settled down.

Despite the little fire in the lamp that illuminated the tent being turned off, sleep did not come instantly for Georgianna. Her thoughts were running free in her head. Georgianna hated crushes. On the rare occasions that she got them, she always got them hard. She wished that she had the ability to keep her feelings under control. She wished that she was not so insecure about relationships. She wished that she felt confident enough to make a move and see where everything went from there. And above all else, she wished that she could suppress her growing feelings towards the younger Dixon brother.

As she slowly drifted off into the welcoming depths of slumber, those thoughts drifted from her mind, instead being replaced by a dream her brain had carefully crafted to bring her some release from her inner turmoil. As sleep finally overcame her, Georgianna laid completely still, blissfully unaware of the fact that in the tent closest to theirs, Daryl Dixon was still wide awake, fighting a losing battle against his own steadily growing feelings, his mind being plagued by images of the woman he cared for more than he had wanted to.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

Quarters Of The Undead Taglist: @holdmytesseract @weirdoneattheparty @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin

You can reach out to me or Taylor to be added/removed from the taglist. We’ll let the other one know about it so that both taglists stay one in the same.

[d1xonss]

so ours babys a lil insecure bc of reader and his lil age gap he vents it to rick a little and since shes such a social butterfly literally talking and befriending everyone he gets upset and starts to think lowly of himself like theres younger men men who arent busy leading the community so they can spend all their time and affection on her blah blah he gets these crazy thoughts and she comforts him eases all his worries ):

Forever

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.1k

AN ~ Aww sad:(( but we love Reader comforting Daryl, it's one of my favorite things to write. And an age gap too?? I love it. Hope you enjoy!

“You’re ridiculous.” Rick spoke with a scoff.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed slightly at the man, not necessarily because of what he had claimed, but because it almost seemed like he hadn’t listened to him at all.

He already felt a little ashamed going to his friend in the first place to talk about how he was feeling, something the man rarely ever did. But that alone showed how desperate he seemed to be for any kind of advice, willing to put himself out there to express what had been going through his mind recently in hopes of some sort of reassurance.

He didn’t really know what had been going on with him recently, but ever since the group had made it to Alexandria, his insecurities slowly began to eat him alive. He started to take note of his appearance a little more, now that they actually had mirrors in the houses provided for them, seeing for himself how much older and tired he really was. It shouldn’t have bugged him as much as it did, but yet, it seemed to be all he thought about. And that constant loop of thoughts only traveled to another, thinking about how much living on the road seemed to age him, while the woman he was madly in love with stayed so young and beautiful.

She was absolutely perfect, not a single flaw, while he on the other hand had countless ones that he couldn’t seem to just get over and ignore. But that wasn’t the only aspect about her that seemed to cloud over his mind. She was quite the extrovert, making friends everywhere she turned as she was constantly radiating such a good and friendly energy. It even drew him in towards her from the start, falling victim to her charming personality. Though it wasn’t her kindness that made him a little more self conscious than before; it was the fact that a few younger men had obviously taken a liking to her natural sweetness ever since they moved here.

Now he knew that she would never cheat on him, the thought never even crossed her mind, but that still didn’t stop his jealousy from bubbling over to a point of no return. Wanting to beat the shit out of any guy who looked at her for just a little too long. He wasn’t blind by any means, and some of them had a hard time hiding the sneaky glances they were taking at his woman whilst she was just in her own little world.

Though the longer he seemed to stew over it for the months and months they had lived there, it made him start to wonder if maybe she would be better off with someone else. Someone a bit younger, more energetic, more outgoing. Someone that matched her personality better than he did. It was no secret that they were polar opposites, but he always imagined that they completed each other in a way, not even thinking twice about it. However, now that he had all the time in the world to think, it slowly started to consume him, thinking more about how he didn’t deserve her at all. But hell, maybe no one deserved her. 

The man then seemed to snap out of his thoughts, scoffing toward Rick who was looking at him with a small smile, “Man, m’ bein serious.” he grumbled.

“So am I.” Rick shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he tilted his head a bit at him, “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about man. You two are always attached at the hip, she loves you…I think you might just be in your own head about it.”

He sighed heavily as he thought to himself for another moment, his thumbnail in his mouth as he contemplated why he was confiding in Rick in the first place. At this point he had it in his head that the man was just telling him what he wanted to hear. “I dunno…” he eventually muttered in response.

Rick only shook his head, “You shouldn’t be so focused on this. You’ve always known how nice she is, everyone loves her-”

“Man, that ain’t the problem. I already told ya that.” Daryl interrupted with irritation in his voice.

“I know…I know.” he assured, “I guess I just don’t see the connection of how you came up with the idea that she suddenly deserves someone “better.”

The archer shook his head with a light scoff, “Seein her talkin with those guys…something kinda just clicked that she should be with someone more fit for her…” he trailed off for a moment, before pathetically shrugging his shoulders again, “I dunno.”

Rick honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Although, he could, he knew that Daryl sometimes got like this, thinking he didn’t deserve the things that he was given. But he never thought he would be standing here listening to him speak about how you would be better off with someone else. Anyone who even caught a glimpse of the two of you could easily see how in love you were with each other. He swore the sight could potentially make someone sick.

The man then cleared his throat, “Well…if you want to know what I think, I say you should talk to her.”

“Talk to her?”

Rick couldn’t help but laugh at how baffled he looked at the suggestion, “Yeah, talk to her. Besides, I think she’ll have a better chance at reassuring you about this than I will, she seems more fit for the role.” he joked.

But Daryl on the other hand scoffed, not exactly loving the idea, “This shit’s already embarrassing, why would I wanna bring it up to her? Didn’t even really wanna bring it up to you.”

“Thanks.” Rick said dryly before stepping closer to slap a hand on the man’s shoulder, “But just trust me on this, alright? You need to tell her how you’ve been feeling. Because if I know you at all, I know you want to keep this bottled up. But that’ll just make it worse and you know it.”

He was right. As much as Daryl hated to acknowledge it, he knew deep down he was right.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to put it off every chance he got, pushing it into the back of his mind as he always seemed to do in hopes that it would just go away. Though he knew it wouldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to want to think about it right now.

He went home later that night utterly defeated and clueless on how to even approach the topic in the first place. When the time dreadfully came around, how would he even bring it up? He was never good with words, especially when it came to something about how he was feeling. It was all just stupid and complicated in his mind, not knowing how to actually piece together the things he wanted her to know. But he knew he had to try.

The front door opened and shut with a small creak as he entered the house, kicking his dirty boots off to the side before he softly called out your name. But all was quiet, not a single sound of your voice calling back to him, to which he only assumed you were still out somewhere in the community. It wasn’t often you stayed out this late, but he silently knew that if someone needed the extra help, you would do it in a heartbeat.

The older man sighed deeply to himself before trudging up the stairs, wanting to get out of the filthy clothes he was trapped in before settling for the night, waiting for you to come home. He couldn’t ever really fall asleep without you there. He didn’t know if it was because he would always worry too much if you weren’t right beside him, or if he just physically needed your touch to relax, but it had to be somewhere in that ballpark. Perhaps both…definitely both.

He entered your shared bedroom with a tired huff, beginning to undo the buttons on his vest before folding it sloppily and setting it off to the side on the dresser. His hands then moved to peel off his dirty shirt that stuck to every part of his tanned skin, raising it over his head before throwing it in the hamper across the room to be washed. He ran his hands through his hair to get it out of his face as he crossed the space to get himself another pair of pants to sleep in, when suddenly his movements stopped short.

The tall, full length mirror that sat off in the corner quickly caught his attention as he saw just a brief glimpse of his reflection dancing behind the glass. He blinked a few times as he knew he shouldn’t look too close, knowing it was only going to add fuel to the already ongoing fire. But a part of him couldn’t help it, seeing as it was too late now that he had taken notice of a few new flaws he hadn’t spotted before. It was like some kind of sinkhole that he couldn’t escape from, looking over the things he hated the most about himself over and over again.

He slowly stepped closer toward the object even though he knew he shouldn’t, seeing himself a little more up close as the moonlight poured through the window just above him to illuminate his figure. His eyes scanned everything he could make out in the slight darkness, seeing the wrinkles that were now more prominent on his forehead. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes from the exhaustion and stress that had been weighing on him constantly. And seeing the scars that littered over his entire body.

“Daryl?”

The man nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your soft voice from behind him, spinning around to see you standing in the doorway. Your eyes widened a little in surprise. Never had you recalled a single time where you had been able to catch him off guard, accidently sneak up on him enough to make his heart skip. He had always been aware of his surroundings, the man had the instincts of a goddamn cat. So to say you were surprised when he hovered about five feet in the air at your presence, would be an understatement.

You raised an eyebrow at him in slight concern, “You okay?” you asked softly as you approached him with hesitance.

Daryl’s stomach had plummeted to his ass, a heat rising in his cheeks from embarrassment as you caught him staring down at himself for a bit longer than usual. He swallowed thickly as he saw you walking further into the room, nodding a bit quickly, “Yeah…m’ fine.”

Though the way he spoke was far from convincing, his voice coming out a bit higher than usual, and the reassuring smile he tried to send your way being a little too forced for you not to realize. Your eyes narrowed toward him in slight suspicion as you came to stand right in front of him, taking in his appearance. There was something that was clearly circling his mind, you had noticed for far longer than he thought you did. But you always knew when there was something off about him.

You gently reached out to grab one of his hands in your own, “Come on…don’t lie to me.” 

He sighed softly, knowing that he should just bite the bullet and tell you, but he couldn’t bring himself to just yet. “Just…just had a rough day. That’s all.” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” you said with a slight shake of your head, watching as he furrowed his brows a little in question. “You’ve been acting off for weeks now, you really didn’t think I was going to notice?”

His eyes widened. Shit. 

A small smirk formed on your lips as you clearly saw that you had caught him in a little white lie. It was written all over his face. You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I’m not upset…I just want you to talk to me.”

He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, especially after Rick gave him that little wake up call earlier to just rip the bandage off. But he hoped he could put it off for at least a few more days, wanting a little more time to prepare the things he wanted to express to you honestly. Though he could tell just by the way you were looking up at him, that you wanted answers, and he couldn’t just ignore what was standing right before him.

He sighed softly as he looked at the ground for a moment, before slowly nodding his head, “Alright…” he started, not even knowing where to take this. “Look…maybe…maybe this ain’t workin.” he blurted without thinking.

Your eyes widened a little, “What?” 

Daryl’s eyes then grew as well realizing just how bad that sounded, quickly shaking his head, “No, no, I- I mean…that ain’t how I meant for it to sound at all.” he reassured, before taking another moment to collect his racing thoughts. “I’ve been…thinkin recently and…I ain’t gettin any younger. Hell, I feel like I aged five extra years just from bein out on the damn road for so long.”

You nodded along slowly, not really seeing where this was heading, “So?”

He sighed softly, “So…I’ve been thinkin bout how…maybe…ya deserve to be with someone a little more fit for ya. Someone younger than me…someone who can give ya what I can’t.” he spoke almost regrettably, like he dreaded even saying those words out loud in the first place.

The truth was, he never wanted to let you go, that was a knowing fact that didn’t need to be proved. But at the same time, he didn’t want to hold you back from a chance at a better life. One that you so clearly deserved.

But your expression seemed to soften drastically, now hearing his explanation out loud, it all seemed to click in your head. Why he had been acting off for the longest time, it was because he was just thinking too much about something that meant absolutely nothing. When you first noticed his odd behavior, you automatically assumed you had done something wrong without realizing. But now hearing it out loud, hearing how hurt he sounded, all you wanted to do was hold him and never let him go. Wanting to reassure him for the rest of your lives if you had to that he was truly the only man you would ever want.

A small huff passed through your lips, “Sweetie…that’s what this is about?”

Daryl shrugged a little in response, “Well…yeah. I’ve seen ya makin friends with a lot of the people round here…it just crossed my mind that…maybe-”

“Stop.” you said gently as you moved even closer to him, reaching up to give his arms a gentle squeeze, “Don’t say another word.”

His gaze softened as he stared down at you, regret filling him completely as he saw just how his words had affected you.

“I love you…so much.” you whispered as your gripped his arms a little tighter, “I’m not looking at anyone else…I don’t want anyone else. No one else on this whole damn planet would be a better fit for me than you. I don’t need some younger guy. I’m not even friends with them, they only come talk to me if they have a question about something. And most of them aren’t very bright.” you said bluntly, earning a small chuckle from him. “I just wish you had told me about this sooner.”

He bit his lip a bit shamefully, “I know…m’ sorry. I just thought…ya might be better off-”

“I won’t.” you insisted, “You’re all I will ever need…you hear me?”

A small smile grew on his face upon hearing that, knowing that you meant every word. Though there was still another thing hovering over his mind. “Even though m’ an old man?” he asked half heartedly, though a part of him was still serious.

You rolled your eyes a bit, “Just because you’re older than me doesn’t make you an old man.” you laughed softly, “But if that’s something you’re really worried about…I promise to stick around even when you’re eighty.” you winked.

His lip quirked up a bit in amusement as he reached out to place his hands on your hips, gently tugging you closer, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

You then felt his thumbs start to rub soothingly along your hip bones, still a little unsure if this was truly what you wanted. To be with someone like him. “Ya promise?” he eventually asked.

You tilted your head a bit at him, “Come on…what do I have to do to convince you that I want this forever?”

The man was silent for a long moment as he thought to himself, absentmindedly still running his thumbs along your hips as he stared down at you. The truth was he didn’t really need anymore convincing than what you had already told him. Just by the small bit of reassurance you provided, he felt as though he was lighter, a weight being lifted from his shoulders knowing you were his. But still, he couldn’t imagine a more perfect time to make it even more official.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes widened a little in surprise, not expecting him to be so blunt let alone say those words to you at all. He never really struck you as someone who would want to get married at a time like this, but it’s not like you minded. As long as you were with him, that’s all that truly mattered to you.

Only now it felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, hearing him utter those words so clearly as if he meant it with his entire being. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit nervously, “Don’t joke about that, cause you know I will.”

He smiled down at you, shaking his head softly, “M’ serious.” he assured, raising one of his hands to run his thumb along your cheek, “Marry me.”

A lump began to form in your throat as you felt yourself get a little more emotional seeing how real this was becoming. Seeing how serious he was. He really wanted this.

“Okay.” you whispered with a small nod of your head.

His smile only grew, “Okay?”

You nodded a bit more frantically as a large smile broke out onto your face, “Yes…yes I’ll marry you.”

He chuckled, pure relief and happiness filling him completely as he picked you up in his arms, spinning you around lightly as you squealed in surprise. Though he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to seal the deal as he gently set you back down on your feet, kissing you deeply as he felt you hum into his mouth. A part of him almost couldn’t believe that you had agreed, wanting to truly be with him forever. But then again, with the way you looked at him, with the way you said yes with little to no hesitation at all, he knew. You were his forever.

~ Thanks for reading!

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Famous Last Words

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: She'll never let him believe he isn't loved, even when he doesn't deserve it.

TW: None.

“Be careful. I love you”

She hears the snort of derision he lets out and resists the urge to roll her eyes at him lest she makes things worse. He’s like a cornered animal when he’s upset, all consuming anger to cover the vulnerability he doesn’t want to acknowledge exists. She’s worried the wrong move will make him tell her to ‘fuck off an’ then fuck off som’ more’ like he had the night before.

“Though’ ya were mad at me” He grunts, scuffing the toe of his boot in the pebble-dashed dirt, other leg poised to keep moving further away from her and closer to the run he’s supposed to be going on.

“I am mad at you, you’re mad at me too” She raises an eyebrow before scanning her eyes down, taking note of the way he’s picking at the skin of his thumb; a nervous habit he’s had the whole time she’s known him. He’s nervous, as if one fight will make her leave him, as if she’s going to suddenly realise he isn’t worth the effort. She huffs a small, understanding smile at him “I still love you, and I’m never going to risk that not being the last thing you hear me say”

He pauses at the gate, tilts his head to the side and looks at her properly, sees the way she’s looking at him wide eyed and concerned, the way her shoulders are tense. Whenever they fight he convinces himself he’s being left, talks himself into thinking she doesn’t care and here she is, mad at him, fighting with him and still refusing to let him believe she doesn’t whilst being scared he won’t come back for different reasons.

He strides forward suddenly, twisting his body to close the gap between them and slings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in to press his lips to the top of her head. He lingers, lips against the hair he loves so much.

“I love ya”

“Be careful. I love you” She repeats, knowing the words have sunk in when he raises one side of a lip fleetingly before opening the clanking metal chain.

-

It was a stupid fight, in hindsight, the kind they probably wouldn’t have if anyone had eaten a full meal for dinner rather than whatever percentage of rabbit there was split between twelve people. Or maybe they would, because they could have twelve rabbits and Daryl would still give his up for someone else, and it would infuriate her just the same that he sacrifices his own wellbeing for them at every opportunity. She suspects it’s only half about taking care of others, and maybe a solid thirty percent just not thinking he deserves care; the other twenty percent she is entirely unwilling to examine.

It was a fight though, one that ought to have been kinder than it was. One that she wishes she could have kept her cool in, but she’ll be fucked if Daryl is the only one who gets to be angry. She stews on it, sitting perched on the solid prison cot, playing it over and over in her mind until she hears heavy footsteps outside the makeshift door. She’d recognise them anywhere, his distinctive gait and well-worn shoes that always scrape on the second step when he’s not trying to sneak. The consideration, even in his unconscious actions, is part of the reason she loves him as fiercely as she does.

She doesn’t get up, doesn’t allow herself to follow the overwhelming urge to rush towards him when he opens the bars and lifts aside the curtain. He bites the inside of his lip.

“’M sorry”

“Me too”

She moves then, coming to a stop in front of him to run her hands over the solid muscles under his shirt, checking him for cuts and scrapes, feels him exhale underneath her palms. He’s always taken by the act, no matter how long they’ve been together or how often he goes out. He remains captured by the tenderness and care she bestows upon him. He is, still, so unused to the kindness, so out of depth when the only gentleness he’s known has been a cover for malice, false sense of security so quickly followed by pain.

“Ain’t sure what I did t’ deserve ya love” He mumbles into the same spot on the crown of her head. The spot he kisses when he fucks her, the place his chin rests when he hugs her after a long day, the spot he’d patted condescendingly when he was too embarrassed to admit he liked her but needed an excuse to make contact.

Finally, after almost twenty four hours of not making contact, at least twenty three too long, she kisses him, presses her lips firmly to his, relishing the way he instantly responds. When she pulls away it’s with a smile, an always fucking present smile he’ll never get enough of, the smile that’s his.

“You don’t have to deserve it, you don’t have to earn it, its just there”

He eats more that night, sitting by the fire running a thumb soothingly on her knee as he takes a well earned swig from a bottle of water. He wants her to see it, wants her to know he's trying; and if he has to trick himself into it by thinking it's for her, caring for himself because she needs him to, then it'll have to do for now.

[yoofte]

Why would I be mad?

Just a few seconds ago, he was leaving wet kisses down her neck and getting soft moans in return, but when his hands reached the hem of her underwear, she pushed him away. That didn’t hurt, it only surprised him. At first he thought she was just playing, so he tried again. He sat her on the counter, and his hand traveled from her neck only lower and lower.

"D-Daryl, wait, I…"

He tried to kiss Y/N, but she backed away. That was something new. He took a step back. His gaze flickered between her eyes, trying to figure out what happened or, if worse, if he did something. She looked down, clearly ashamed of something.

"What’s wrong, Y/N?" Daryl ran the back of his finger against her left hand. "You need to tell me if I did something you didn’t like."

"It’s not like that, Daryl…"

Y/N bit her lip. How was she supposed to tell him? She didn't want to upset him because it wasn't his fault. He didn’t do anything… and yet. He was man after all… Blood rushed to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to say it.

"Can we… I’m just tried… I m-mean j-ust tonight… I promise I-I…"

"You don’t want to have sex?"

Her eyes widened, and she finally looked him in the eyes. Y/N couldn’t find her voice, so she only nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay? Y-you are not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" he asked, surprised. Not understanding why there would be a reason for him to be upset about this? He could wait until she was ready again. He didn't ask question why or what was the reason. Instead, he took her hand again and simply asked: "Do you want to go for a walk instead? The sky is clear tonight, we can watch stars."

~

[request/ask box] [masterlist]

[starlessea]

Hii! Could you plz write a fic where the reader finds out that Daryl's ticklish and a tickle fight break outs between them?

You obviously don't have to if you don't want to! :))

Boots And All

Drabble: Based on this ask. I strayed a little but hopefully it scratches the itch (no pun intended).​

Masterlist

It had taken some time for Daryl to become comfortable around you.

Sure, the two of you had been a thing for some time—sneaking off here and there, swapping shirts for purpled neck bruises.

But those were fleetings moments; there was no real comfort in them. They consisted of rushed encounters, usually when the tension had become so unbearable that the pair of you were at each other’s throats. 

Things were different now. Alexandria had given you the space to slow down. And slowness was something Daryl wasn’t accustomed to. He couldn’t get used to the porch-watching, the grass-mowing, and the domesticity of it all. 

Especially now, as he found himself at the entryway of the shared house, struggling to find the words to say to you.

‘I’m home’ didn’t sound right; neither did ‘I’m back.’

You hadn’t been waiting for him after all—or had you?

Daryl stood dumbfounded. He'd never had trouble with this stuff before, but this suburbanite hellscape had him guessing his every move. What if you didn’t want him anymore?

He shook his head. Footsteps echoed across the hall, and not wanting to get caught mid-agonising, Daryl tried to busy himself.

"Dixon," you greeted, before a furrow pinched your brow. "Boots."

Daryl’s eyes followed your pointed finger, landing on the trail of mud he'd dragged over the ornate welcome mat.

"Damnit, woman," he cursed. "Been gone all day an' tha's all I get—boots?"

“Boots,” you confirmed, and disappeared back into the living room.

Daryl grumbled before sinking to his knees to undo his laces. Here he was wracking his brain for the perfect greeting and you’d settled on fucking boots.

It could be worse, he thought. At least that meant you wanted him to stay.

The fire crackled low as Daryl trudged into the living room. You were slumped down on the couch, legs tucked under you with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. Your attention was on a book he knew you'd already finished.

Daryl deliberated for a moment dropping into the space nearby. He kicked his legs up onto the stool before him, watching the way your eyes flickered over before returning to your page.

There was a tension in the air—subtle but persistent. He wondered if this was as strange and new to you as it was him. Perhaps you didn’t like him all that much now there were other options. He scowled, and tried to put the thought away from him.

“So…” you began after a moment, setting the book down onto the table. “How was it? Find anything good?”

Your voice was softer now, and Daryl felt himself relax slightly. “Nah,” he muttered. “Same ol’ shit. Few walkers—not much else.”

You shifted, and as you did, your hand brushed against his foot. A jolt sparked through his body; he kicked his leg out instinctively.

“Jesus, Daryl," you yelped. "What was that for?”

Daryl opened his mouth to retort, but as he did, you readjusted once more, grazing the base of his foot with your fingers.

He immediately recoiled. “I swear to sweet shit, do that again an’ there’ll be hell.”

A look of realization flashed across your face—and god, did Daryl hate it.

“Are you…” you paused, the disbelief in your voice too great to conceal, “ticklish?”

Daryl groaned. He suddenly felt five-years-old again, wishing he could keep a straight face.

His lack of reply spurred you into action. “You can’t be,” you announced, goadingly. Daryl felt his muscles grow taut, preparing for the worst. As much as he wanted to escape, part of him missed this—missed that look in your eyes when they weren’t clouded by worry and expectation. “Everywhere?”

“Don’t ya dare,” he warned, though it lacked any real bite.

You grinned before edging closer, until you were sat straddling his lap. Daryl stiffened. His hands hovered above your hips, not quite confident to let them rest there.

“All the times I’ve touched you here,” you murmured, tracing a line up his chest, “or kissed you here”—your breath brushed against his ear, and he shivered despite himself—“did it tickle you?”

Daryl swatted your hand. “Yer fuckin’ ridiculous,” he growled.

You couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your lips. It chipped away at Daryl's defences, leaving him even more exposed.

"And how about here?"

You tested a light prod at the ribs, to which he bucked beneath you, trying to unseat you.

“Fucking—cut it out,” he snapped.

And again, that smile of yours tugged at something deep within him.

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender. “I’ve had my fun.”

He was about to bite something back, but the words caught in his throat. Your hair was splayed, catching the light of the fire as it framed your face, and on it, your expression was one of pure warmth. For a moment, all Daryl could do was stare. How many days had it been—weeks even—since he’d seen you like this?

You were so beautiful.

“I missed ya,” he admitted. The words came out of their own accord, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to get back to ya.”

His hands found your hips, and his thumb began tracing circles there.

"If you'll have me an' my muddy boots."

Your expression softened, and as you leaned down, Daryl left himself completely open.

You kissed him; it was unlike any of the others you shared before. It wasn't urgent, nor desperate—like the ones brought about by fear of getting caught.

You took your time with him, since there was enough now to spare.

“I missed you too, Dixon,” you murmured against his lips. “And I'll gladly take you, boots and all.”

A/N Sup... It's been about 2-3 years but I want to confirm that I'm alive. To be honest, I still read every comment I get and I can't believe people still love my work. I started this page when I was a wee 19-20 year old student, and now I'm 24, have bought a house, a dog, and am heading a company (crazy, I know). That said, I wish I could go back to the days I would write and write and write. Unfortunately, I just don't have the time (and I'm a lot slower now due to the mental block I developed from aiming for perfection)... Though, my wish for 2025 is to devote a little time back to my hobby - no matter how small, nor how long it takes me. To anyone still here, firstly holy shit go touch some grass (just kidding), but truly thanks for sticking with me. If you want to reach out, I'd love to rebuild some bridges and hear your suggestions! P.S I know it's been a hot minute so if you want to be added / removed from my tag list, please let me know x

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[bambieyedoll]

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

daryl dixon x secret!reader

“we’ve talked about this, doll” he stated while caressing your soft hair affectionately. “i’m keepin’ ya safe, the world is fucked up out there” daryl explained and you sighed in defeat, cuddling up against his chest. the candle light illuminated the bedroom in the safety of the hidden house he kept you in. the idea of going out without him terrified you so eventually, you gave up asking. after all, he wouldn’t lie to you, would he?

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XXIX)

XXIX. The Aftermath

MASTERLIST

Summary: You deal with some of the aftermath of what happened to you.  

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings:  Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, cursing, talks about imprisonment, talks about burning with iron, and possible rape, injures, talks about a beating, might miss some important warnings, but you know what this is about

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alright… I want to admit… I ran out of most “scenes” I had planned/already written, but I think I built an important base for what’s to come. 

Daryl didn’t release you until you were inside the house, and you were able to place your trembling feet on the wooden floor.

You saw it in their faces, nobody knew what to do with you, with this broken, injured you.

You haven’t even recuperated from your injuries of DC, and now you had more, and they were piling up

“You should go to the infirmary”, said Rick softly

“I think I want to take a bath first”, you said softly, they shared looks

“I’ll tell Denise to come to you, alright? in an hour, a special house call”, you smiled at him and nodded.

Rick called your name softly, and you catched yourself looking at nowhere, your eyesight unfocused on the wall

“What did he do to you?”, he asked, but he seemed to regret it as soon as he saw your face, “do you want to discuss it in private?”, he asked you both

“He didn’t… rape me”, you said slowly, and you heard Daryl take a deep breath, “he locked me up, fed me dogfood sandwiches, I had a knife on me so I tried to use it, so they came in like three guys and they beat me up a little”, you said, “and they burned me…”, you saw Rick whine, he rubbed his face with his hands, to then look at you with shiny eyes, he saw you trying to hide your forearm, and he grabbed it gently, taking the bandage softly, when they the brand on your skin, watching the burn mark, the initials, Rick took a deep breath, taking a few steps back and rubbing his face and hair back, pacing.

You watched Daryl as he looked at the initials in your skin, he shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. You could tell he had a hard time processing it, he didn’t want to believe it 

“I didn’t tell them, anything”, you said

“You should have”, Rick said desperately, grabbing onto your shoulders gently, “you should have spoken if that’s what kept you safe”

“They branded me because I refused to join them”, you said softly, “I refused to kneel and become a soldier or that guy’s wife”, you assured them, “they are like a cult, they run in complete and total loyalty to this guy Negan, he is like some sort of god”

“I’m gonna need you to tell me more”, said Rick, that’s when Daryl surrounded you with his arm

“Later man”, he demanded, Rick nodded

“Yeah, I’m sorry”, he said, he squeezed your shoulder softly and nodded.

Daryl led you downstairs, slowly, gently. 

He made you sit in the toilet while he drew you a bath, just like you had done for him that time. You hugged yourself, still in Abraham’s jacket 

He didn’t leave you, you didn’t think twice about it, he helped you take out your jacket, and shirt, he winced when he saw all the bruises, and he caressed gently each and every one of them.

You guessed he dared to do it because you hadn't rejected his touch, right now the only thing you wanted was his gentle hands on you, rather than everyone else’s

You took out your bottoms and then he helped you get in the tub, you moaned when you felt the hot water, just how you liked it, and it instantly soothes your aching body as you sit in it.

You watched as Daryl shed a couple of tears, as he saw the state you were in

“Please don’t”, you whispered, he shook his head, and finally looked at his face. “they just beat me up a little”, you muttered, “after they locked me up and i tried to stab them”, you whispered. You touched his face, “get in here with me”

“Nah, let me take care of ya”, he whispered, he grabbed a sponge, and he started to rub you gently, he cleaned your bullet wound that still had a couple of stitches, and then the rest of you.

One cold shower in seven days, the water ended up dark when you were done. He helped you get dried and dressed in your pajamas, is the only thing he had handy. 

When you resurfaced on the main floor, Denise was waiting for you with a shy smile and sad eyes.

You let her check you, every bruise, even the one in your head that was already healing

There was a particularly nasty bruise in your ribs, oh you remembered that particular kick

Tell us where your camp is bitch

“I want to rule out a concussion or internal bleeding”, she said, putting a little flashlight into your eyes, “have you vomited?”, you shook your head, “shortness of breath?”, you shook your head, “have you lost consciousness? Dizziness? abdominal pain? chest pain?”, this girl was reciting straight from a book, and Rick, Michonne and Daryl could see how uncomfortable you were becoming, you had indeed experienced most of those things, but because they beat you up. She checked your bruise some more, and then she sentenced that it was not an internal bleeding, just a bruise. But if I ever feel any of that myriad of symptoms I should go straight to her. 

She bandaged the burn mark, even if it wasn’t raw, you didn’t want to see it. She then took out the stitches of your almost healed bullet wound, she gave you some painkillers and demanded you stay here until at least the bruise in your ribs disappeared.

Then she left.

It was bananas to think that in the last week you had more medical checkups in the middle of the apocalypse than in your whole “normal” young adult life. You took a long breath, to distract yourself from those dumb thoughts. 

You were home now, you thought, as you looked around, you could relax, you could be safe, nobody was going to grab you, make you do things, burn you, lock you up.

You were back with your family, you were safe here.

You remembered all those times that Rick and Daryl told you to stay here, stay home, and you got angry, and now the only thing you wanted to do was to crawl into your bed and sleep for years.

“I know I have to… tell you what happened, what I know”, you offered softly, “but I just… want to sleep”, you whispered brokenly. Daryl shared looks with Rick and Michonne

“I’ll make you something to eat”, Michonne said, “you shouldn’t have those pills on empty stomach”, you barely nodded, and she served you some food, at this point, it was a little after noon, and you didn't know if they planned it, but nobody else showed up.

As you were eating rice with canned mushrooms, and sipping water, Rick couldn’t stop looking at you

“They want to see you”, he said softly, “but we told them to reign it in, that we were going to ask you”

“Who does?”, you asked back

“All of them”, he said with a soft smile, “so tonight, when you wake up from your nap”, he said gently. You’d like that, be with your family, all of them.

“Thank you”.

You ate everything up, Michonne even brought you some canned peaches, which you devoured, you took the pills with sips of water, and then Daryl guided you, you made a decision to go upstairs, even if you found Daryl’s room extremely comfortable, but, just the thought of being in a basement… just freaked you out. 

When the door closed behind you, and you were alone with him, you felt another wave of sadness/relief/rage crashing onto you like a tidal wave. 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”, he asked, wiping your tears with his thumbs 

“When I was there… after a week I saw a guy… and he had your crossbow”, you sobbed and he caressed your face, “for a horrible second I thought they killed you, that you died, and I almost die right then too”, it got so bad, that you hiccuped into your sobs. 

“Nah”, he said, “ain’t nobody takin’ me out”, he said, “Not now that I have ya”, you sobbed as he hugged you tightly into his chest. “a couple found me in the woods that day, I tried to help them, they were runnin’ from the saviors, and they double crossed me, took my things”

I took it from a man that we encountered in the woods, he was alive when we left him

“I thought… “there is no way they took it from him while he was still alive”, you cried, “I thought the worst…”, he grabbed your face softly, making you look at him 

“Ain’t nobody takin’ me from you”, he repeated, “ya’ hear?, never, aint nobody takin’ you from me neither”

“Yeah”, you said then, smiling through the tears, “now I know, thanks for rescuing me”, you said with a soft smile, he only shook his head gently, with a smile on his face. You went to the bed and sneaked under the big comforter and the sheet. “Daryl…”, you called, he turned to you, “can you please… stay with me?”, you asked him

“M’never leavin ya”, he assured you, “not until ya get tired f’me and tell me to go to hell”

“That’s never going to happen Dixon so you better mean it”, you said softly. He laid by your side.

“Sleep, I’ll keep watch”, he whispered

“Promise to wake me up to relieve you?”, you asked childishly, as you always did when you slept next to him on runs

“Sure”, he said, understanding immediately.

“Wait… the good stuff Denise gave me are kicking in”, you moaned softly, “Mmmm this is goin’ to be a hell of a ride”, he chuckled as you surrendered yourself to a drug-induced sleep on Daryl’s chest.

Rick rubbed his face, tears threatening to come out, he left the house, after lunch, he needed to report to Deanna, who wanted to see you. 

“Is she alright?”, asked Carl, Rick had to almost tie him up so he couldn’t go with them to retrieve you.

“Yeah, she is good”, he said softly, “she needs some time”, he said softly, “she is with Daryl right now, but tonight we will all gather to make her feel better, alright?”, Carl nodded.

“Yeah, I got something I think she might like”, Rick smiled and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“That’s my boy”, Carl left him and Rick went up the few steps to Deanna’s house, and coming out of it, was Smith, who almost got face to face with Rick, Gary was following him closely

“Hey Rick”, he greeted

“Hey”, he said weirdly

“The boss lady was handing us a couple of jobs we have to do, being productive members of the community”, he said with a big smile

“Good, that’s… good”, he said. Rick didn’t know why, but like many other members of the group, he didn't like this guy at all.

“How is she?”, he asked, “big operation you did today”

“Yeah”, he said simply, “everything went well, ge got her back, those bastards… they… beat her up real nice, but… luckily, just that, so… she will be alright, she is with her… Daryl… right now”

“Oh good”, he said, and then he just walked away 

When he entered Deanna’s house, she jumped, she was truly nervous, and had a disturbing look in her eyes

“Is there something wrong?”, he asked, Spencer was there too, looking concerned, his arms crossed across his chest

“No, nothing to worry about”, said Spencer

“How is she, Rick?”, asked Deanna

“Everything went according to Alexander’s plan, he has proven to be, a great addition, no casualties, no nothing”, he said

“Because of her”, said Deanna, her knowing smile returning to her face, she walked towards him and grabbed his shoulders, “how is she?”, she echoed

“She broke down, as soon as she saw herself safe, she has cried, quite a lot, right now, she wants to be with Daryl, she had a bath, she is taking a long nap, Denise already checked her, give her some pain killers, she got beat up, but she managed to stay quiet about the location of Alexandria, so that’s great”

“I’m glad she is with Mr Dixon”, she said with a pleased smile, “those two, are my favorite couple”, she said with that sneaky smile, Rick chuckled

“Oh? how so?”

“Well, unpredictable, strong, a bit messy, colorful”, she said, “passionate”...”

“Alright”, chuckled Rick

Spencer was watching the scene, a bit relieved, but Rick could still see the trouble in his eyes.

“Deanna”, he called, “you know you can count on me for anything, right?”, he asked then, but he could not get nothing out of her

“Of course I do”, she said

“I saw Smith and Gary leaving”, he muttered, Deanna seemed even more troubled

“Yeah, I gave them both jobs”, she said, “anyways, I’d like to see her, when she is ready”

“She agreed to have a little get together later”, he said, “of course the both of you can go, I’m just worried, I don’t want her to do any favors, so, family only”, he said

“We will just come by to see how she is doing”, she said with a pleased smile.

Rick left the house with an uneasy feeling on his chest, he didn’t know what happened, and he didn’t like not knowing. 

Thanks to the drugs still lingering heavily in your system, you woke up slowly, calmly, the colors around in your room told you it was almost sunset, you felt groggy, but… better, in a sense, waking up and be completely aware of your surroundings was… calming

Daryl was looking at you, with a concerned look in his eyes

“Stop”, you whispered

“Wha’?”, he asked  

“Don’t look at me like that”, you whispered, he grabbed your face softly, making you look at him

“Like wha’?”

“With pity”, you answered 

“It ain’t pity’, he insisted, “I ain’t never felt more scared than the moment I thought you were gone”, he whispered, “I now I got you back, and I’m still cared”

“Why?”, you asked him. Then you realized it could be that he was afraid you had been… broken… damaged beyond repair. He didn’t say it, so you guessed you were right. “I’m here Daryl, I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere”, you said softly, “you did it, you got me back, I’m here”

“I want to kill that son’bitch”, he said, “I wanted to kill him right then and there”, as would that be the reason he was scared of losing you, that you’d be scared of him, of his “murdering” instincts

“I could have killed them, that day, but I aimed for their legs… I…. didn’t”, you whispered, “I just wanted them to fuck off, I never thought…”

“You didn't want to kill people, that don’t make you weak or nothin”, he said

“Well and you wanting to kill them doesn’t make you bad”, you said, he leaned in and kissed you, “I know I’m a bit banged up, but it’s still me, the same I was a week ago”, you said, “alright?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he said with a soft smile

“Now… it’s my party, so… you better cook me something GOOD”, you said, putting on your best front, you stood up from the bed, and put on your… clothes… your thickest jeans, a long sleeve shirt, with a turtleneck… you didn’t even know why, you didn’t want them to see you… like they had this morning.

With only a bruise in your face, you went down the stairs.

You entered the main space slowly, you were relieved of being back home, but your body still shook a bit. When you got to the living room, all the women in your group were there, Michonne, Maggie, Rosita, Tara, Beth. They all seemed surprised when they saw you, and then, they gave you that look.

Pity

“Please don’t”, you muttered, “don’t look at me like that”, you whispered 

“We thought you would like some company”, said Michonne, regaining her usual voice, the one she used when she was happy, “we will accompany you if you want to”

“Thanks”, you said smiling softly, “I do, really”, tears threatened to spill in your eyes, “thank you for rescuing me”, they all came in at once, but took turns to hug you tightly, murmuring praises in your ears and words of encouragement.

“We will eat, the pasta that you like”, said Maggie, your face lit up

“Real pasta? the dried kind? not the can kind?”, you asked

“The… “real” one”, confirmed Maggie, you smiled widely. They smiled at you when they saw your relieved face

“Oh good”, you said with a wide smile .

The rest of your family arrived, Glenn, Abraham, Rick, Carl, with Judith, and even Gabriel, Eugene and Tyrese, the original 18 were gathered, well, now 17 that you had lost Noah, who had been somewhat replaced by Alex. There was only one person who shone in its absence, but you didn't want to think about it. 

You ate all together, pasta, like you liked it.

But after dinner, you could tell Rick was getting anxious, so, Daryl, Rick, Alexander and you went to the corner to speak

“I didn't see him, Negan”, you began, “but i know enough to say that… this is big”, you said determinedly, “this is a huge operation, this people ran in complete loyalty towards him… he had this lieutenants of sorts, the one who imprison me was one, SImon”, you muttered, “then under then they have what they call their soldiers, the saviors, the hands that get dirty, with guns, heavy artillery, then, there’s workers, people they protect in exchange of their.. handy work, you have cooks, manual laborers… then, you have people who had wronged the system, they became some sort of slaves”, they heard everything you had to say about them.

“like I said, I don’t know who this Negan guy is, but… If he finds a woman attractive, he will make her marry him”, you said with a shaky voice

“Marry ‘em?”, you nodded

“And have sex with him”, you continued, “if they refuse he threatens to kill their real husband, or he melts their faces off with an Iron, or vice versa, if he needs someone to fall in line he will take his women for himself”, they both shared looks, “If a single woman won’t marry him, he makes them do hard labor instead, not many make it”.

“How did you learn all of this stuff?”, asked Rick

“It’s incredible what you hear when you keep quiet”, you said, “this guy Negan likes to make public displays of force, or law enforcement, that is one of his punishments, and I saw two guys with a melted face” 

“What did he make you do?”, Rick asked, as he was afraid of the answer

“He first off, his man Simon, offered all the bells and whistles, first to marry him, them to make me one of his soldiers, but I didn’t want to, I told him I wanted to go, so he deducted I had a camp… despite that I told him I didn't”, your voice broke at the last sentence, “I didn’t tell ‘em”, you assured, “I didn’t, but he knew, he saw me too clean and well kept, he wanted our location so when I wouldn’t give it he…”, both men stood still, “locked me up, beat me up, burned me”

“you should have told him so he would leave you alone”, Rick repeated

“I couldn’t do that Rick”, you whined, “it’s a huge operation”, you said, “they hold up in this huge factory, for what I heard, they have outposts too, trucks, guns, all of it”, you said, “they are hundreds of them”, the panic in their faces, they needed to know, “and they are not like Alexandrians or dumb fucks, they are us, Rick, times ten, more vicious, more violent, with more guns and resources, and they are not afraid to use them”, you said, “They run on ultimate loyalty towards Negan, their leader, he had turn these people into their soldiers, they are fiercely loyal, and entitled, they believe themselves to be the top of the food chain”, you said then, “the kind of guys that we wouldn’t let inside of Alexandria? well, he managed to control them”, you said. 

“You talk about this guy like he is some sort of cult leader”, he said

“Charles Manson wished he had come up with this stuff”, you said then, you looked down, “one of the members of my Atlanta group, the last one, found them before we did, he is one of them now”, you said, “I have reasons to believe, for what he told me, that they enforce themselves into other communities, makes them give them things, foods, and whatever they want… or they kill them”

“Jesus… Jesus helped us get you back, he told us, his community is under the savior’s thumb”, said Rick, you nodded

“He helped you?”, you asked, Daryl grabbed your arm softly

“Yeah, he approached me and Carol, and stayed with us until we got you back”, said Daryl, you smiled

“He took us to Hilltop”, said Rick, “it's a farming community, he told us the saviors killed a sixteen year old boy”

“Oh”, you said, it was great news that you knew another community, but horrible because of what was happening, “they’ll do the same to us”, you said, “it’s a matter of time, they will take our shit, and if we don’t fall in line, they will kill us”, you finished

“What are you saying?”, asked Rick

“He will look for us, hell, he might be looking for us right now”, you said, “and we better be prepared for when he does find us”, you said shortly

“To do what?”, asked Alexander

“To negotiate”, you said, “our loyalty and services for keeping our stuff, our houses, or something like that”, you muttered

And that… truly unsettled them.

You had today to recuperate, and cry, and feel pity about yourself, but now? you needed to pull it together, for what’s to come. You couldn’t give yourself more time to grieve whatever happened to you, they could be back at any minute, they could be watching you right now.

You jumped when the door opened and the three new guys entered, you didn’t understand what they were doing here, and Deanna and Spencer went in just behind them.

She wanted to see you and speak to you, but she understood it pretty quickly so once she made sure you were fine, she let you be, with the promise that anything you may need, you could count on her. 

Who knew that being taken by a hostile group and tortured would make your group more united? As you looked around the room you understood it.

You would do anything to keep them safe.

And soon you will be facing the greatest threat to your family yet… You had today, you will not take another day to yourself, to mourn, you needed to get your head straight, because whatever is lurking in the woods, you need to be right here, with your family, keeping them safe. 

But you still had today. 

You felt Smith’s eyes on you, when you looked back at him you didn't see a smirk, on those dark eyes with mockery in them, you actually saw concern, worry even. You tried not to think much about it

There was a person who still wasn’t here… and right now, as you felt the bandage touch against your long sleeve shirt… you needed her.

taglist 🤍 @crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

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masterlist

they're literally all NSFW 😇📢

Daryl Dixon x OFC

When the Levee Breaks (Beatle)

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 //

i love you (always forever) (sister!ofc)

In the winter of ‘95 Daddy died. Leaving Lady to finish up her senior year in high school, and Daryl to brood over when to sell the house. The summer of ‘96 is the first time Lady feels alive. Daryl wants to give her one last summer to remember before she has to grow up for real.

part 1 // part 2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Something to Prove

Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV.

part 1 // part 2 //

petal plush’d

Sinnedenoderum: Floral Species - When inhaled by human beings it has psychoactive properties as well as acting on the nervous and vascular systems. Often causes a lack of inhibitions and desire or delusion of the need for sexual intercourse. In some cases will cause tumecense in individuals affected. 

Negan x Reader

humiliation

Negan makes an example of you. (extremely dubious consent)

Would you? (niece!reader)

Your mom dies, leaving Lucille and Negan as your guardians. Lucille dies, the world ends, and Negan becomes the leader of the Saviors. After taking residence in the Sanctuary he becomes a stranger. No one wants anything to do with Negan’s “daughter”, so when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.

part 1 // part 2

Boyd Crowder X OFC

dirge (Beatle)

Boyd is sick of being full of shit. When one of his new flock seems to see him for who he really is, he decides it might not be a bad idea to let her. (Major character death)