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naughtyneganjdm · 3 days ago

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Threads of Desire: A Christmas to Remember - Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N goes to Maggie's apartment to pick up something for work, but is shocked when she discovers a secret that Maggie is keeping. After the day she had, Y/N goes to visit with her friend Daryl Dixon who does what he can to make her feel better.

Characters: Daryl Dixon, the reader (OC), Maggie Greene, Negan Smith (only heavily mentioned), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/157163035

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Angst, Pretty heavy dirty talk, Implied Sex, Smut, etc.

Notes: This chapter doesn't have Negan in it, but he is mentioned. I quickly edited this. I wanted to have more of this up, but life got busy so everything may not be up by Christmas. But I'll do my best to get up the chapters as quickly as I can.

Moving through the streets of New York, Y/N cussed to herself when she worked to keep herself from falling. Of fucking course it had to be snowing right now. It fit her mood and everything that was happening. The sound of her phone going off made her frown when she reached for it to see that Negan was calling her. Rejecting the call, she was quick to put her head down and keep walking. But then immediately after he was calling her back again. Shoving her phone into her purse, she ignored the call not wanting to talk to Negan after everything.

Avoiding Negan now would be her only option with how big of a fool she made of herself tonight. After everything, there were two things she was feeling more than anything right now. Regret and anger. Regret that she let herself get to the point that she did tonight. She had worked so hard to keep her mouth shut about Maggie and how miserable she was. Putting on a façade for the last four years was something she had gotten good at, but she suddenly let go of all that in just a few hours. And anger that the person she thought was her best friend purposely went out of her way to break her heart. Hearing that Maggie was the one to pursue Negan after promising that she wouldn’t was devastating. The sad thing was though? It wasn’t hard to believe. It had become more than obvious that Maggie didn’t care for Y/N in the way that she cared about Maggie. For some reason, it always felt like a competition in life between the two of them. One that Y/N never played along with, but for some reason Maggie was. Maggie had to have the best of everything. And she had won. In her own little game, she won. Maggie had Y/N’s dream job. Maggie was dating the man that Y/N had fallen in love with.

Getting to Maggie’s apartment, Y/N dug inside of her purse to find the keys. Walking inside, the woman at the front desk already knew who she was. They didn’t know her as Maggie’s friend, but as the woman that worked for Maggie. By now? She had been back and forth in Maggie’s apartment so much that the whole staff that worked in that building knew who Y/N was.

Heading up on the elevator, she closed her eyes tightly and tipped her head back when she heard her phone buzzing again in her purse. Undoubtedly that had to be Negan. Who knows how many times he had called at this point. Jumping out of the car at a red light had to be a bit of a shocker for him, but she didn’t care. Everything had become awkward and it was more than enough for one night.

Once more today, she found herself soaked from the snow. This time though? It was much worse. Instead of being in comfortable clothes, she was in a nice dress with just her jacket that didn’t close in the front.

A ding filled the air to alert her that she was on Maggie’s floor. Moving through the hallway, she headed for Maggie’s apartment and sighed. Considering Maggie hadn’t been texting her off the hook about the event tonight, she assumed Maggie was still at the dinner meeting. Opening up the door, Y/N stepped into the apartment feeling her heart rate escalate. Loud breaths and smacking sounds were filling the air drawing Y/N’s attention toward the kitchen where Maggie was laid out across the kitchen table having someone pounding into her.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry,” Y/N immediately apologized hearing Maggie gasp out once she realized that it was Y/N that was there. Stumbling out of the apartment, Y/N was quick to close the door shut behind her. Embarrassment flooded her veins when she headed back toward the elevator. But as she stood in front of the elevator, that feeling soon changed to anger. A moment later the door to Maggie’s apartment pulled open and Maggie was wearing an oversize t-shirt that she had obviously pulled on. Glancing to Maggie, Y/N shook her head and bit back what she honestly wanted to say. “I had no idea you were in there. I was just coming to pick up the project folder for tomorrow because the meeting you had at the end of the week got pushed forward to tomorrow. I didn’t want you to forget it, so I was dropping by to pick it up to make sure you had it.”

“We need to talk,” Maggie stressed with the elevator doors opening. There was a redness flooding into her cheeks with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. There was worry in Maggie’s green eyes when Y/N shook her head. “No, you need to come with me.”

“I don’t need to do anything. Just remember to bring your project with you in the morning or the meeting isn’t going to go very well,” Y/N went to leave, but Maggie grabbed a tight hold of Y/N’s wrist dragging her back to the apartment. “Maggie, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Maggie pushed Y/N into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. Y/N’s heart was pounding inside of her chest while Maggie attempted to gather herself. “And…you…you can’t tell Negan.”

“Tell Negan what?�� she blurt out, dramatically shrugging her shoulders and throwing her hands up in the air. “That you’re cheating on him and fucking someone else?”

“Yeah, I knew you would be like this,” Maggie rolled her eyes, folding her arms out in front of her chest. “You’re my best friend, so therefore you have to be on my side of things. You can’t tell Negan what you saw today. Because one, that would break his heart and two…you just…well, you just can’t tell him.”

“I don’t lie to Negan,” Y/N declared, venom in her tone with Maggie rolling her eyes at the response. “What the hell are you even doing anyways? Negan is perfect. What are you doing fucking around on him?”

“Your undying loyalty to Negan is a little fucking pathetic Y/N. I hope you realize that,” Maggie hissed, throwing her right hand about. Whoever Maggie was screwing was in the background getting into something which had the both of them distracted for a moment, but Maggie pulled Y/N back in to focus on her. “Listen, Negan is the man that I want to marry, but I’m still young. I want to be able to have some fun before I ever consider doing something like that.”

“If you want to have that kind of life, then why are you dragging Negan along?” Y/N blurt out, every muscle in her body tensing up when she reached for her jacket that was wet. Pulling it off, she tossed it aside onto the counter and Maggie gave her a once over. “What?!”

“You wore that tonight?” Maggie seemed to be stunned with how she looked, but soon realized that she was distracted and pulled herself back into the moment. “Y/N, I like Negan. A lot. Okay? Negan is not someone I want to give up. He’s very good at sex and you know he has a big dick. That’s not really something people want to lose.”

“Wow,” nothing more could escape Y/N’s lips. “Just…wow.”

“Give me a fucking break,” Maggie scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I know you have your little crush on Negan, but I’m your best friend. Your loyalty should lie with me. Not him. Fuck, it’s because of me that you actually got to see Negan naked at all. You never would have if it wasn’t for me. So maybe you should be a little thankful toward me and show me some appreciation.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how out of the field that comment was. “So now I shouldn’t tell Negan about you fucking someone else because I was able to see Negan’s dick with your help?”

“I’m not wrong,” Maggie stressed her feelings toward Y/N eliciting an eye roll from her longtime friend. “You had the hots for him for so fucking long and I’m sure that getting to see him naked around the apartment all the time helped fuel your little fantasies of him.”

“Wow, you can go fuck yourself Maggie,” Y/N snarled attempting to move around Maggie only to hear the sound of something being dropped behind them. Looking over her shoulder, Y/N let out a loud exhale when she saw Guy Vixen walking around Maggie’s kitchen completely naked. A breath caught in her throat realizing that it was their boss that she had walked in on fucking Maggie. “Holy shit.”

“I know you told me to wait in your bedroom, but…I didn’t want to,” Guy’s thick accent slurred from his lips, waving his hand about after he grabbed a glass for himself. “I was thirsty and I got sick of waiting for you and…”

Guy paused when his eyes connected with Y/N’s. Moving around the bar that was at the center of the kitchen, he stopped when he stood before her, “Oh hello. Look at you. You are ravishing. Maggie, who is this. Is she a gift? Something that we can both play with?”

“I uh…” Y/N dropped her head down to see that Guy was still very much up from the action that she had interrupted. An uncomfortable breath escaped her throat when Guy lifted his hand to drag his finger down over the center of her chest toward her breasts. “I work for you. Well, I work with Maggie.”

“Oh! You’re that cute little thing from this morning?” Guy questioned, closing the distance between the two of them. “Fuck honey, if I knew you looked like that under all those clothes I would have invited you a long time ago.”

“Guy!” Maggie snapped, but it didn’t draw the brown eyes of their boss to pull from Y/N. Tugging slightly at the material of Y/N’s dress had it pulling forward with Guy attempting to get a look at Y/N’s breasts. “She’s not here as a third!”

“She may have not come with the intentions of being a third, but now that she’s hear soaking wet…” Guy swept his fingers down over her arms, stepping forward causing Y/N to take one step back. “Don’t be shy. I have enough in me to share with the both of you. You can ask Maggie, she’s tried him many times. And he delivers every time.”

“And suddenly we are talking about your dick in third person,” Y/N felt her face grow hot with her boss like this before her. This was the man that she admired growing up. The person that inspired her to even get into the business. So to say this was uncomfortable? It was an understatement. Not that Guy wasn’t good looking. He was incredibly good looking. And he didn’t look bad naked. He had a very chiseled physique. Unlike Negan, you could tell that he worked out a lot. And his rippled abdomen, buff chest and veins that were prominent in his arms showed it.

Noticing that she was staring at his arm, Guy flexed his arm slightly to bulge his bicep, flashing her a bright smile. “You like the way that looks? Little offended that you are looking there and not at my penis, but the arms and chest are nice so I don’t blame you for getting a look in.”

“Maggie,” she spoke her friend’s name feeling cornered when Guy blocked her in, placing both of his hands on the wall beside her. “Mr. Vixen?”

“Just Guy,” he smiled, letting out a disappointed breath when Maggie worked her way between the two of them. Pressing into Guy’s chest had him rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air. “Come on Maggie. Have a little fun here. You two are hot. I’m hot. I think the three of us could really have fun. You two can make out a little. I’d love to come on her tits.”

Lowering her head, Y/N looked down at her breasts and wondered if she had really kept them hidden that much since people had been so drawn to them tonight.

“Guy, it’s not going to happen. We aren’t those kind of…friends,” Maggie suggested, not sure how to get the man to back off in the least. “Just go back to my room and I’ll be there in a few minutes. I promise.”

“You get me excited for something more only to turn me down and disappoint me,” Guy pouted, palming down over the center of his chest toward his mid abdomen. Locking eyes with Y/N, he threw his hand up in the air and smiled. “Since Maggie is a buzzkill, if you ever decide that you want to have sex, just come see me at work. I’m not kidding when I tell you that I’d love to come all over your tits. They are incredible.”

“Guy!” Maggie interrupted him after Y/N let out a nervous laugh at how forward he was being. “Anyone else and you’d be worrying about a massive sexual harassment charge right now.”

“I’m telling the woman that I’d like to fuck her. I don’t think that’s bad,” Guy stressed, stumbling back toward Maggie’s room with Maggie pushing into him. Waving his hand at Maggie, Guy got her to step away from him and he laughed. “Fine! Be that way. But I’m just letting her know that I mean it. The offer is on the table.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N gave Guy an answer with him pointing at her, smiling over the top when he headed back into Maggie’s bedroom. Once he was in, Maggie slowly turned to look at Y/N. “Things make so much more sense now. Although, I did think he was gay so that’s surprising.”

“He’s pansexual,” Maggie alerted Y/N suddenly feeling awkward about the exchange between Guy and Y/N since she was just having sex with the guy. “I’m not sleeping with him because he’s the boss. We’ve been doing this off and on because…”

“I didn’t even suggest that, but now that you put it out there…” Y/N breathed out, folding her arms in front of her chest knowing that it did come off strange that Maggie was in fact fucking the boss.

“Don’t even start with me,” Maggie warned throwing her finger out at Y/N who leaned back against the wall. “You can tell that he’s very…forward. And it’s easy to fall for it with the way that he looks. So I don’t want to hear that I’m screwing my way to the top.”

“I never said that,” Y/N reminded Maggie feeling a sense of happiness in the moment that Maggie felt bad about the situation. “You did.”

“Regardless, you really have no right to judge me,” Maggie claimed, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. A sound of frustration fell deep from within her. “I know you’re just jumping at the idea to tell Negan I’m cheating on him so you can get your nails into him.”

“Get my nails into him?” Y/N repeated, a fire building up in her veins. “You know, Negan told me a few interesting stories tonight. Here you are begging me to be your best friend and be loyal to you, but Negan let me in on some things that made me realize just how much of my best friend that you aren’t.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Maggie wondered, her eyebrow arching when she braced her hands on the counter.

“You knew how much I liked him,” Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make sure that Guy didn’t hear their fight about another man. “I told you how in love with him I was and you still went after him. You swore to me that you wouldn’t. You even promised me that after he brought you those flowers that you wouldn’t let anything else happen, but then you did. And I thought it was on him, so that’s why I never really held you responsible. But tonight he told me that you kept coming back to his class to flirt with him. That you’re the one that kept coming. That you were the one that swore to him that I wouldn’t be coming home the night you fucked him on the couch. You knew I was coming home. You set it up so I could see what you had done…”

“I…” Maggie looked like she was going to rip into her, but stopped when she thought about what Y/N had said. “You know what? I’m not even going to fight about it. Yeah. I went after Negan. For four years, I had to listen to you whine about how in love you were with this guy. And then I walk in to see how fucking hot he is. And after four years? You didn’t try a fucking thing. So I didn’t see the big deal. Negan was hot. You weren’t making your move. That’s not my fault. Plus, it’s not like I had to work that hard to get him to come to me. You can be in love with someone all you want, but that doesn’t mean that he has the same feelings toward you. Which he obviously didn’t. It’s not you that Negan has feelings for Y/N, it’s me. You were never going to hook up with Negan in the first place. I needed you to realize that so you could fucking move on with your life. Instead, you’ve remained incredibly loyal to him and his daughter, but you’re never going to get what you want. Even if you do run off to him and tattle on me about what you saw here. It’s been eight years Y/N. If it hasn’t happened yet, it’s never going to. You’re not his type. And he doesn’t like you like that.”

Parting her lips, Y/N went to say something, but felt that lump returning to her throat again. Maggie was right. She witnessed that firsthand tonight. Negan didn’t like her like that. So what could she honestly say to combat that?

“It’s your fault for not trying first,” Maggie stuck to her guns about the situation with Negan, tipping her head from side to side. “Not that he would have said yes because…trust me. If he didn’t want you when you were taking care of his kid, he was never going to want you. You’re just a glorified nanny Y/N.”

“Fuck you Maggie,” she shook her head, trying to get Maggie to move but Maggie wasn’t budging. Frustrated, Y/N stepped back and shook her head. “You are the worst fucking friend in the world. You know that?”

“Why? Because I have the things that you want but never fought hard enough to have?” Maggie snapped back, closing the distance between the two of them. “What exactly makes me a bad friend, huh? As far as I’m concerned, I’m the best fucking thing that happened to you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be nowhere. I’m the one that brought you into Vixen. I make it possible for you to live in the city that you always dreamt of living in. I’m the one that makes sure you put food in your mouth. I allowed you to fill your dirty little fantasies to finally get to see Negan naked in the ways that you wanted. When I look at it? I’m the best friend you’ve got. All of those things I can take away from you in an instant. Your job. Your home. And with one conversation with Negan, I can take him and Jordyn away from you too. So why don’t you show me some gratitude instead of threatening me over a crush you were too much of a pussy to try anything with.”

Backing down, Y/N started to feel small again realizing that Maggie was right. This job was the only thing keeping her in New York City. Talking to Negan tonight confirmed with her that she couldn’t get a job to fall back on. If she lost her job, she would lose her apartment which meant she would have to leave the city. And after hearing all the people talking about Maggie at work tonight with Negan, she knew that with the proper persuasion, Maggie probably could have Negan kick her out of Jordyn’s life.

“That’s what I thought. Big and bad until reality smacks you upside the head,” Maggie grumbled under her breath with the color flooding into Y/N’s face. “For fuck’s sake. I have been dating Negan for four years and you still have that fucking crush controlling you. If you haven’t figured it out in eight years, it’s time for you to wake the fuck up. He doesn’t want you Y/N. So what is running to him and telling him that you found me sleeping with someone else going to do?”

“Is Guy the only one?” Y/N inquired getting a laugh from Maggie in return. “That’s a no.”

“Does it matter how many people I’m sleeping with on the side?” Maggie pushed, stealing a quick look to her bedroom to see that Guy was laid out across her bed skimming through things on his phone. “It wouldn’t change the conversation regardless. You should be loyal to me. Not him. Yes, I’m sleeping around with multiple people. No, I don’t want to stop it. It’s not cheating if it’s not an emotional relationship with someone. Then I would feel like I was cheating on Negan. Otherwise, it is what it is.”

“Negan deserves better than this Maggie,” Y/N alerted Maggie of how she felt about the situation, even knowing that Negan would never want to be with her.

“You don’t really know him Y/N. So don’t tell me what he does and does not deserve,” Maggie snapped at Y/N, rolling her eyes at the comment in general. “Negan isn’t the Mr. Wonderful that you think he is. I’m going to assume that you don’t know all of him because the way at which you are his loyal little dog shows it.”

“I know Negan isn’t perfect,” she countered, shaking her head at the idea that she didn’t know all the parts of Negan. She was around him for four years before Maggie ever came around. “I’m pretty sure I know him more than you do.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t,” Maggie corrected her, tipping her head from side to side. “Come back to me when you’ve had him balls deep inside of you and then we’ll talk.”

“You think that having sex with someone means you know them more?” Y/N breathed out with Maggie licking her lips in an arrogant sweep. “That’s very ignorant.”

“Whatever Y/N. I don’t care to have this conversation anymore. I’m busy and I’d like to get back to my night,” Maggie hissed out, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “I just need to know if I should expect you telling Negan about this or not. So what’s it going to be? You going to go running to him? Tell him everything? Because if you plan on running to him, you don’t have to show up to work tomorrow. You’ll be looking to find yourself a new job instead.”

Staying quiet, Y/N knew that she had to swallow her pride and keep this to herself. No matter how much she hated her job, she loved this city more and she loved Jordyn. Maggie had the power to make her lose both things. Moving around Maggie, Y/N reached for her jacket that she had thrown on the counter. Pulling it back on, she went to leave only for Maggie to call out to her.

Stopping, she waited for Maggie who moved into her office. Coming back out with the project that she had showed up for, Maggie held it out to her and bit down on her bottom lip, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” Y/N accepted the folder, her eyes narrowing when Maggie offered up a big smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And with that, she left.

----

There was no question that it would have been for the best if Y/N went directly home. It was late at night. She was drunk. Things were emotional. More than anything she should have been sleeping all of this off. Undoubtedly she would be having an early morning tomorrow. One where Maggie would likely give her endless amounts of shit after everything that happened tonight. Yet, she found herself headed somewhere else. Everything felt like it was spinning and she was almost afraid to go home to be alone. Right now she was experiencing everything so strongly that she knew she needed to talk to someone.

Tomorrow was going to be hard. It went against everything that she was to keep something like this from Negan. But Maggie was right about a lot of things. And she needed to talk to someone who could help her through this. Someone who understood what she was going through and knew most of the details. And there was only one person in the world that she had been completely open with about everything. That was her friend Daryl Dixon.

Y/N had also met Daryl during her freshman year of college. After getting an art degree there, Daryl worked at the college for years. A few of the professors ended up liking him so they hooked him up with a job on campus. Pretty quickly, they hit it off after meeting at a party. They were always running into each other after their first meet and it felt like the world was just telling both of them that they were meant to be in each other's lives. Even though he was older than her, they just clicked. Back when she was in college Daryl, Maggie and Negan were the three people she was the closest too. Daryl knew everything. And he was the only person that she could be completely honest with about things.

Unlike Negan and Maggie, she and Daryl had more in common. They were both very passionate about their work, but neither of them were making the kind of money that Negan and Maggie were. Daryl lived in a studio apartment in the Meat Packing District of New York City. After leaving Maggie’s apartment in the upper East side, she got a ride to his apartment. Yes, it was late at night, but she was pretty certain that he would be awake. Daryl didn’t usually sleep much. These were the hours when he thought his creativity spiked. Just like her, Daryl’s brain often never had time to silence itself.

Sluggishly moving through the hallways, Y/N stopped when she reached Daryl’s door. Pressing forward, she heard the faint sounds of music playing alerting her to the fact that he was very much awake. Knocking at the door loud enough for him to hear, she waited. Holding her shoes in one hand, she leaned against the wall across from his door. Movement inside let her know that Daryl heard her. It didn’t take long for him to unlock the door and slide it open with a heavy thud.

Standing before her, Daryl was completely shirtless wearing only a pair of torn, weathered down blue jeans. The button in his jeans was undone and his hair was a mess. There some paint splattered over both his torso and his hands that made her smirk when she saw it. A cigarette was loosely hanging from between his lips, with his eyebrows bouncing up when their eyes finally locked.

“What in God’s name are you wearing?” Daryl snorted, his head tipping to the side as he lifted his arm to rest it against the doorframe. Gazing over her body, Daryl couldn’t but be amused seeing her dressed in what she was. Especially since he had never really seen her like that in his time being near her. “Did you come from some kinda party or somethin’?”

Instead of saying anything, a long exhale escaped her throat and when he finally noticed the expression in her eyes, Daryl knew that she needed him. Stepping aside, without question, Daryl waved her forward motioning her into his apartment.

“I take it you had a hard day?” Daryl commented, pulling his cigarette from between his lips after she lowered down just enough to walk under his arm and into his apartment. Grunting out, Daryl closed his door with a firm slam, locking things up behind him. Dragging his bare feet along the floor, Daryl headed back toward the painting that he was working on leaving her standing at the middle of his mostly empty apartment.

Daryl was a simple man. Truthfully? If Daryl would have decorated the place a little nicer, this could have been a beautiful apartment. It had huge windows that looked upon the city and it was a lot of space. On the left side of Daryl’s apartment was a very simple bed and a dresser for him to keep his clothes. At the opposite side was the kitchen area where Daryl had a bar set up where he could sit and eat. Near the middle was a single couch that had an older television sitting out before it. And toward the back of his apartment was where Daryl kept his studio for his art. This was the place that Daryl worked out of. So there were plenty of art supplies, canvases and things of that nature. Since it was Christmas time, Daryl had what she would have guessed to be a five-foot artificial Christmas tree at the opposite corner of where his bed was at the left side of the apartment. The star that was on top of it looked like it had seen better days. There were no ornaments on the tree. It just had the white lights that likely came with the tree when Daryl had bought it. Along with that, there was a line of string lights that Daryl had hung up around the bedroom area of his apartment.

“I like what you’ve done with the place for Christmas,” she pointed toward the lights provoking a grunt to fall from Daryl’s throat while he continued painting whatever it was he was working on. “It’s very much in the Christmas spirit.”

“At least I put something up,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, with his cigarette still hanging from his lips. “You mentioned the place being depressing the last time you were here, so I decided to brighten the place up a bit.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was impressed,” she implied, stepping forward across his apartment. Curling her arms around her, she realized that she was freezing. “I’m sorry for coming here. I just didn’t know where else to go. And I didn’t want to go home.”

“You never have to apologize to me. You’re always welcome in my home,” Daryl declared, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray that was in the distance. Rubbing his hands together, Daryl cleared his throat and shrugged. Really Daryl didn’t seem too bothered at the idea of having her there. “I enjoy the company.”

“You told me that you hate being around people. You’ve said that many times,” she reminded him, getting him to roll his eyes at her comment. “You’re a loner. You like to remind me of that all the time.”

“Yeah, I hate most people. Just not you. You’re different,” Daryl muttered under his breath, simply shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. Once his blue eyes looked upon her again, Daryl frowned and pushed his chair away from his canvas that he was working on. “Do you want some pajama pants and a t-shirt? You look wet.”

“Are they clean?” she teased getting the middle finger from him in response. It made her laugh as he stood up from the seat with a groan.

Heading toward the bedroom area, Daryl pulled open one of his drawers. Pushing through some of his things, he grabbed a t-shirt and then opened another drawer for the pajama pants. Holding them at his side, Daryl approached her and held it out to her.

“They are freshly washed, I promise you,” Daryl scoffed, his face scrunching up in irritation when he threw them out to her and she laughed when she caught them.

“Thank you,” she muttered, looking down at the clothes. They did in fact smell like they were freshly washed, but she couldn’t help giving him a hard time since most of his things were covered in paint. A lot of people would give Daryl a hard time about looking dirty so he always got annoyed at those kind of comments.

“I happen to think I smell great you know,” Daryl reasoned with her looking to his hands to gaze upon the paint that was covering them. “Let me go clean up and wash this paint off of me while you change. After you get that dress off of you, we can throw it up in the bathroom to dry. I have some coffee on if you want something to help you warm up.”

“That’d be great,” she appreciated how quick he was to help her. This was like Daryl though. He’d happily welcome her into his apartment, no questions asked.

Watching him closely, she started to take off her clothes while he walked off into the bathroom. In the distance she could see his reflection in the mirror while he worked to scrub at the paint over his hands. By the time she was dressed in what he had given her, Daryl was waiting for her by the bathroom to help her get her dress up to help it dry. Motioning her toward the kitchen area of his apartment, Daryl grabbed her a mug when she went for the coffee. Setting it down on the counter, Daryl headed back toward the painting that he was working on leaving her there to prepare her coffee the way she wanted it. What amused her about Daryl is that he had two mugs. One that was his and one that he kept for her when she came over.

Grabbing one of the stray chairs that was in Daryl’s apartment, she was careful to hold the mug in one hand while she dragged her chair over beside Daryl to get a look at the painting he was working on. Taking a seat, she got comfortable and took a minute to gaze upon his art. It was a stunning portrait of a woman. And it was big. What surprised her about Daryl was how he didn’t have more jobs than he did. When Daryl did portraits, they were incredible. He was a hell of an artist and she was always impressed with the things that he was working on.

“You are so talented,” she blurt out, eliciting a scoff from Daryl who never really thought much of himself to begin with. “She’s a pretty girl. Who is she?”

“It’s a commission piece,” he answered, his fingers curling around the seat that he was on. Bracing his weight, Daryl joined her in looking at the painting. “There is something about it that doesn’t feel right.”

“You say that about all of your pieces,” she reminded him, cupping her coffee mug in her hands hoping to warm up with it there. Even though the coffee might help her sober up, she just preferred the warmth of the mug there for now. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Or not hard enough,” he countered, his right eyebrow arching up when he turned to look at her. A stray piece of his dark hair fell into his eyes. Pushing it back behind his ear, Daryl looked upon her expectantly. “Okay, so spill your guts. What happened? I know Christmas is the worst time of the year for you with work.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me venting to you?” she wondered, showing a sense of worry about coming to Daryl only to complain about her life. Standing up from the stool that he was on, Daryl grabbed one of his normal chairs and pulled it in front of her. Turning it around, Daryl straddled the chair and lowered down, crossing his arms over the top part of the back of the chair.

“When have I ever had a problem with you talking to me?” Daryl seemed frustrated that she would even ask him that. Shaking his head, Daryl sighed loudly and lowered his head to rest his chin on his arms. “After this long, I think you know I will listen to you anytime you want to talk.”

“I don’t know Daryl. I just feel bad that I always come to you when I’m upset. I just think you may be my only real friend at this point,” she confessed to him, hating to say it but it was how she felt. Daryl was the only person that she had a bond with where it didn’t feel fake with him. There was nothing about their relationship that was conditional. “I don’t want you thinking you’re my last resort. Because you’re not. I appreciate you and everything you do for me. You’re just the only person that makes me feel like I can really be me. The only person that I can be honest with.”

“That’s because I am,” Daryl snorted, giving her a wrinkle of his nose. It had her smiling when he threw his hand up in the air. It was blunt, but he probably wasn’t wrong. “But that’s okay because you are the only person that I feel that way with too. So go for it. Tell me what’s up.”

“Before I go off and make myself look bad, do you have something that you want to talk about first?” she wanted to open the door to give Daryl the opportunity to talk about his life so she didn’t feel like such an asshole about things.

Chuckling at the idea, Daryl shook his head and nodded toward his painting, “What you see behind me is the only difference in my life right now. Same old, same old. Just painting. I’m a very boring person.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she refused, shaking her head in response.

“You’re delaying talking about why you are here,” Daryl pushed, tapping his hands against the back of the chair with his blue eyes narrowing. “So go ahead.”

“I’m just…not happy,” she whispered, having a hard time looking Daryl in the eye when she finally admitted things to him. “Every day, I find myself hating my life more and more. I used to be able to hold it in, but today, I just…I let a lot of it slip and that’s not like me.”

“Everyone has their breaking point. You just waited four years to have yours,” Daryl thought aloud, “I’m surprised it took you this long. I would have erupted in the first year from all of it. The first day really. Maggie really needs to be knocked on her ass.”

“Daryl,” she couldn’t help but be amused at how simply he said things. Shrugging dramatically, Daryl didn’t seem to care that his comment sounded harsh. “I can’t do that.”

“Oh, you can do that. And you should do that, you just won’t,” Daryl stressed, throwing his hands about while he spoke. “You just won’t. All because of a stupid promise you gave her father. I doubt her father knew that she was such a cunt. And I don’t think he’d want you being miserable to make sure his daughter had a good life.”

“Touché,” she exhaled loudly, knowing that Daryl hated Maggie. In her years of being close to both Daryl and Maggie, it was very obvious that the both of them heavily disliked each other. And they always did. Not once did they let up on it.

“I don’t know why you hold so tightly to that promise,” Daryl’s southern drawl had her sighing loudly. “Never did I understand it. I don’t think he expected you to make yourself miserable to lift his daughter up when she didn’t deserve it. He’d probably want you to put Maggie in her place.”

“Hershel was the closest thing to a father figure I had in my life for a long time,” she reminded Daryl, but that was a response that he never really went for. There was always an excuse she had as to why she continued to let things go with Maggie and he hated that. “You know I’m alone.”

“First of all, fuck you. You’re not alone. You have me,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, leaning back enough to place his hand in over the center of his bare chest. “Second, just because you’re alone doesn’t mean you have to suffer through this bullshit.”

“I don’t really think I can put up with much of her bullshit anymore,” she acknowledged, the lump in her throat growing along with the ache in her chest. After tonight she felt like her tolerance was completely starting to disappear. “I have finally realized that Maggie was never really my friend in the first place.”

“No shit,” Daryl scoffed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. That was something he tried to convince her for a very long time, but she never seemed to open her eyes to the truth. So to hear her talking like that made Daryl happy. “I’ve always told you that. Anyone with eyes can tell she uses you to make herself feel better. Common sense Y/N. She stole your work in order to get a job.”

“She said that was an accident,” she alerted Daryl who grumbled a slew of curse words under his breath.

“Right,” Daryl bit down on his bottom lip, his body tensing up because there was no way he believed that comment. And really? She didn’t either. It did feel purposeful at the time. “She took the job you always wanted. The job she didn’t even want. She just did it to do it. Now, she wants it cus’ she likes the attention it gets her and she still uses you all the time.”

Giving a single nod, she knew that Daryl wasn’t wrong.

“A friend don’t fuck the guy you’ve been in love with for years either,” Daryl slurred, his southern tone growing deeper with him lifting his hand to wave it about to make a point. “Maggie wants to hurt you because hurting you proves she’s better than you. And you let her hurt you. We both know she’s a fucking cunt.”

Sighing loudly, Y/N forced herself to look down at the ground. There was a warmth flooding into her face and she hated to admit Daryl was right, but she knew he was correct all along, “You’re not wrong.”

“I’m happy you’re finally agreeing with me, but what did she do to make you say fuck this?” Daryl inquired, his eyebrow arching up in curiosity. “Usually, you put up more of a fight than this for Maggie.”

“It’s a buildup of things. The abuse I take every day. The lack of acknowledgement or credit for the work that I do and the ideas I provide her with. It was no different today than the rest of the days, but today she was supposed to do an event for Negan. Be a key speaker at an event to try to get donations for the college we used to go to,” she educated Daryl on how her day began. “Apparently she had a sudden meeting that she couldn’t miss. So she told me to step in for her. Didn’t ask me. And like I always do, I saved Maggie’s ass. I went to this event and I started talking to Negan. I was very blunt with him tonight. I couldn’t hold it in about being miserable. And I couldn’t hold in my feelings about Maggie. I just let them rip. I asked him why he fell for Maggie and he told me that the day after she met him she kept going back every day to flirt with him. Saying she was very blunt about it. Persistent. And the day that I found them having sex together on our couch in our apartment, Maggie told Negan that I would be gone all night because I would be spending time with you. Maggie knew very well that I would be coming home. She staged it so I would see it.”

“See, this is what I’m saying,” Daryl scowled, his blue eyes narrowing. “The bitch deserves to get knocked on her ass. She’s not your friend. She never was. And Negan needs a swift kick to the balls for falling for it.”

“She promised me that she wouldn’t let things go any further. She knew how much I loved him and she still did that,” she felt her heart breaking considering this was the person that she took care of more than anyone, other than Jordyn. For so long she thought Maggie was her best friend, but no one had ever hurt her as much as Maggie had. “I asked Negan what he loved about her today, what it was that drew him to her. It’s obvious that he’s head over heels in love with her. Just the way other people talk about her says he can’t stop talking about her. And then I asked him what he thought about me.”

“You’re just asking to be hurt,” Daryl hissed at the idea of whatever it was that Negan said because now it was starting to make sense why she looked so upset. “I hate that piece of shit too.”

“He told me that he got with Maggie because she reminded him of Lucille and that she was the first person to show interest,” she recalled what it was that Negan had said while they were together. “I can’t imagine he didn’t know how I felt about him.”

“Unless he was fucking stupid,” Daryl declared getting her to laugh at how firmly he made that statement.

“He told me that he views me as his angel. The woman who saved him. And like I’m the mother to his daughter,” she informed Daryl what Negan had said, breaking it down in not so many words. “And then I asked him why he didn’t try to hook up with me. He uh…he laughed.”

“I told you I never liked that motherfucker,” Daryl put emphasis on his words, throwing his hand about when he spoke. “I know you think that he’s this special guy, but he always rubbed me the wrong way. Allowing you to take care of his daughter while he was off having a mental fucking breakdown and then fucking your best friend? Fuck that dude Y/N. I don’t understand why you are so head over heels for him in the first place. The one time I sat in his class, I felt like he was the most arrogant prick I’d ever listened to. The ego on him was fucking huge.”

“There are parts of him that I know that other people don’t,” she was quick to defend Negan, but then she even rolled her eyes at her own comment. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about things because he doesn’t feel the same way about me and I know that. Tonight confirmed it for me. But it doesn’t stop there.”

“Oh boy,” Daryl couldn’t believe that there was more. Especially after the whole Negan thing. Knowing that Negan confirmed that he didn’t like her like that should have been the main thing to devastate her. If there was something worse, Daryl knew it had to be bad.

“I went to pick up something for work,” Y/N nodded in the direction of the things she brought with her from Maggie’s house. “I walked in on Maggie having sex with our boss. And I mean, he was really giving it to her. Good. The first thing she jumped on was begging me to not tell Negan. But then her begging went to her down talking me putting me in a corner. She threatened to take away my job if I told Negan about her having an affair. I guess it’s pretty normal for her to fuck a lot of people. She told me that if I told Negan what I saw, she would get Jordyn taken away from me. She would take away my job. And I’d be forced to leave New York because I’d have no income.”

“That’s when you should have said fuck you Maggie, I’m calling his ass right now,” Daryl snorted, his throat tensing up along with the muscles in his chest. Tossing his hand up, he pointed at her when he saw the color flooding into her face. “But you didn’t.”

“She is capable of that Daryl. I can’t get another job. I’ve been a glorified slave over the last four years. And then I asked Negan today if he could get me a job in the film industry and he told me it was pretty much impossible,” she repeated what Negan had told her earlier getting Daryl to roll his eyes. Dropping his head down, Daryl grumbled under his breath and shook his head. “I need my paycheck. I can’t keep my apartment if I lose my job. And you know how much Jordyn means to me.”

“I’ve seen you with Jordyn. That little girl would not allow that to happen. Maggie could shit talk you to Negan, but Jordyn loves you. You are unfortunately like that little girl’s mother. You co-parent a child with Negan without having the man nut in you,” Daryl rambled on, getting a tiny laugh from her throat at how forward he was about things. “And your job? So what? Lose your job. I’ll move you in here with me until we can get you on your feet. You’re talented. Your talent will speak for itself eventually. And if you can’t get something, I can talk to Carol.”

“We’re not going to get the help of that woman that you had an affair with when you were younger,” she frowned at the suggestion of it making Daryl laugh. That was something Daryl always said to her when she was upset. “I know the two of you are like good friends now, but it would feel weird.”

“She works at the rival company of Vixen,” Daryl reminded Y/N of the hookup that he had who could help her. “I’m sure if we wanted to, we could give her some of your work and she’d easily get you a job there. You would be like their secret weapon against Guy Vixen and fucking Maggie Greene. There are options. Do not let that woman overrule your life.”

“It’s Jordyn I’m the most worried about,” she knew that the other things were bad, but it was Negan’s daughter that left the lasting impression on her. “I know how much Negan loves Maggie. If she wants me out of their lives, I’ll lose that little girl. And I’m not really her mother so it will be easy for Maggie to achieve.”

“God,” Daryl huffed out, lifting his hand to bury his head at the center of it. “Why did you have to fall for Negan? Falling for me would have been so much easier.”

“Yes, I know,” she sighed loudly, falling back against her chair with Daryl slowly lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Daryl’s blue eyes locked on hers and she shook her head. “You remind me of that all the time.”

“I was head over heels in love with you when we first met,” Daryl stated, biting down on his bottom lip recalling what it was like for him when he first met her. “If you would have just fallen for me instead of that prick, things would have been a whole lot easier for you.”

“But I don’t think we would have been this close,” she spoke honestly, her eyebrows furrowing with Daryl speaking up about them getting together again.

“You know the first time that you slept with me was when you found Maggie and Negan together, right?” Daryl pointed out, leaning back in the chair drawing attention to his chest and it made her suck in a sharp breath of air. “I took advantage that night and it was wrong.”

“I was throwing myself at you hard and I knew how you felt about me. So if someone is bad in the relationship, it was me,” she defended Daryl who tipped his head to the side, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “I thought that was the way to make myself feel better. Sex with you makes me feel better.”

“So is that why you’re here? You want to have sex?” Daryl offered causing her to smirk and have color flood into her face further. “I’m not joking. Us having sex has helped you feel better multiple times. I have a brand-new pack of condoms in the nightstand. We can get naked, turn off the lights. Open up the windows and let the light from the city flood in. Keep the tree and the string lights on. And we can have sex during the winter storm. It can be a whole new experience for you.”

Biting at her bottom lip, she gave Daryl a look that had him huffing out. Throwing his hands up in the air, he shook his head and tapped his hands against the chair again, “We have sex all the time Y/N. I don’t get why you’re second guessing it now.”

“We have sex when we’re horny Daryl. I don’t trust random strangers,” she admitted to him, an ache flooding her chest with the expression that he had over his features. “Plus, you’re my best friend. I feel like if we continue to have sex, the lines are going to blur.”

“If that was the case, the lines blurred a long time ago because we’ve had sex a lot,” Daryl countered, sucking at his bottom lip, his blue eyes locking with hers and it made her heart skip a beat. “I think it’s so good because we are close.”

“It sounds like you’re the one that might want the sex,” she noted, licking her lips when she started to consider Daryl’s offer.

“So what if I do? It makes both of us feel good for a while. I’m telling you, if Negan knew how good you were at riding a cock, he would give up Maggie in an instant,” Daryl spouted off getting her to choke at how blunt he was being about the sex life that they had shared together. “I’m just saying, I’ve never nutted so hard in my life.”

“Thanks Daryl,” she snickered at the thought, shaking her head when she considered what Daryl was offering. “I guess, just with Negan…I’ve never felt so unwanted in my life.”

“Then come here,” Daryl wiggled his fingers about, getting up from the chair and moving over toward the bed. Dropping down on the bottom of it, Daryl started to push at his jeans working them down his legs. It had her staring out at him from where she was seated on the chair. “I’ll make you feel wanted. Show you the things you wish he would.”

“Sex doesn’t fix things Daryl. It feels good for a small amount of time, but that’s it,” she reasoned with Daryl, getting up from the chair that she was seated in to stare down at him as she approached the bed. “These are genuine things that I’m worried about. Things that…”

“Things that aren’t going to go away overnight. Nothing I say is going to fix these things cus’ you are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, outstretching his fingers toward the nightstand. Pulling open the top drawer, he pulled out the pack of condoms and snagged one of the foil packages from it. “You want to feel special. I see it in the way that you are looking at me. Let me make you feel special.”

Sinking his fingers into his boxers that he was wearing, Daryl pushed the material down his body by lifting his hips up. Letting the material pool at his ankles, he kicked it aside and wiggled his finger at her again, “You know I’m drunk.”

“I’m never not drunk,” Daryl slurred with a grunt, his blue eyes watching her closely when she looked down at his naked body. By having the discussion that they were, Daryl was somewhat erect. “It’s not like either one of us would be taking advantage of the other. We’re two friends that enjoy having sex together. You’re looking for someone to make you feel good. I enjoy any time I get to spend with you. If this isn’t what you want, I’ll just as happily lay down in bed with you and we can talk the rest of the night.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Daryl watched her movements as she stepped forward. Moving for the windows, she pulled apart the curtains to let the light in from the outside. Heading next for the lights, she turned them off only allowing the city lights to flood into his apartment along with the Christmas lights. Stepping in front of Daryl, she felt her heart rate quicken with the way that he was staring up at her in the shadows. Working out of his t-shirt, she tossed it onto the bed and then worked on the pajama pants. There was something in the way that he looked at her that made her feel seen. That made her feel special.

“Do you think I have nice breasts?” she wondered, standing before Daryl naked and it made him smirk. Since those were the main topic of tonight, it was something that had been on her mind a lot. “Because tonight, everyone kept talking about them. I didn’t realize how capable they were of drawing attention.”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Daryl braced himself when she moved carefully in over him. Pressing his hands in over her sides, Daryl gave her hips a firm squeeze with her right arm hooking loosely around his muscular shoulders. “They are nice breasts. So of course they could make anyone do anything. You should use them more often.”

Pulling her in over his lap, Daryl reached for the condom that he grabbed being careful to work open the foil packaging. Faintly, her hands dragged down over his shoulders toward his chest. Caressing up over the side of his neck had Daryl tipping his head to the side and she pampered his neck with tiny kisses. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Daryl’s eyes came to a tight close before forcing himself to focus. Working his condom on, Daryl grunted and curled his arm around her waist to pull her firmly in over him. Clasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, Daryl got her to lock eyes with him and he dragged his thumb over her bottom lip.

“I wish you allowed yourself to see you the way I always saw you,” Daryl slurred, lifting up enough to capture her lips in a lingering kiss. Reaching between the two of them with his free hand, he helped to lead his body to hers. It had her eyes closing tightly, the warmth of her breath vibrating against his when she moaned at their bodies being joined together. Hovering his lips over hers, Daryl brushed his thumb at the side of her neck and tipped his head back. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Allowing her to make the first move, Daryl was silent when she took her time lifting her hips and then slowly lowered them over him. Staring up at her with awe, he was breathless with the way that her head tipped back. A rush of pleasure flooded into her face and it was something he knew that he was addicted to. Palming down over her back, Daryl stopped when his hands squeezed firmly at her bottom helping to aid her movement over his rigid length, “You’d be the most arrogant woman alive if you gave yourself that opportunity.”

“You wouldn’t like me arrogant,” she hushed him, pressing wet kisses over his bottom lip. Cupping his face in her hands, she allowed her right hand to caress in over the side of his neck. Sinking her fingers into his hair had him tipping his head back with her lips hovering in over his. “You like me the way I am.”

“But I’d rather you happy,” Daryl commented, his eyelids growing heavy with his sharp breathing filling the dark room with their bodies moving in unison. Winces fell from Daryl’s throat when her movements gradually grew harder and faster. Dropping his head down, Daryl rest it against the side of her neck with her clinging firmly to him. “Negan is a goddamn fool.”

“I think I’m the fool,” she alerted him, tugging firmly at his mid-length hair. Bouncing her hips over him harder had Daryl moaning against her flesh, the warmth of his breath causing chills down her spine. “I should have known that he’d never love me or want me.”

“Then that’s his loss,” Daryl grunted, forcefully rolling her over onto her back. Crawling carefully in over her, Daryl hooked his arm around her, bringing them closer together. With his free hand, he swept his thumb in over her jawline and let out a tremoring breath. “Anyone with half a brain would see how special you are. He had eight years to see it and he never made a move. So that’s his loss. Don’t forget how special you are. How beautiful you are.”

Daryl’s thrusts were slow, his breathing broken with every roll of his hips against hers. Meeting her in small kisses over and over, Daryl cradled her head tenderly. Lowering in closer to her, he braced his weight and started to move faster having her pants fill the air. Nibbling at her bottom lip, he groaned with her fingers digging into his flesh.

“Look at me,” he breathed, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, his lips hovering over hers. Just close enough for his lips to skim faintly at her bottom lip. “Never doubt how perfect you are.”

Lifting up, she stole a kiss from Daryl’s lips knowing that this was a bad way to do things. What should have been a onetime thing between them had grown to be pretty consistent. With how she knew Daryl felt about her, it made her feel like a bad person every time she let this happen. Daryl never hid his feelings from her. So for him to know that she was head over heels in love with Negan, yet she was still having sex with Daryl pretty frequently felt wrong. But there was something about the way that Daryl looked at her. Touched her. Spoke to her. It all made her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt in many years.

And that’s why she had trouble turning him down. Not only tonight but all the other nights before. Although, she needed this more than she even knew. Because Daryl was the only person that made her feel seen and tonight proved that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

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#Daryl Dixon #Norman Reedus #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon fanfiction #The Walking Dead #The walking Dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #Negan Smith #Negan #Negan fanfiction #Negan x reader #Negan x you #daryl dixon x you #Daryl Dixon Imagine #Negan Imagine #Jeffrey Dean Morgan

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letterstodixon · 3 days ago

Text

place in me

summary: A path of wishes and several opportunities in which you stopped believing in them, since the world went to shit until now.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 8556

era: commonwealth

warnings: towl/dd: tboc spoilers. mentions of blood and killing walkers. angst (kind of?). not proofreading. mentions of reader cutting her hair shorter but it doesn't mention the lenght per se. age gap implied.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: i'm afraid this is gonna be a long ass author's note. hello again! i've been missing due to my academic schedule and my writers block, this one shot has been sitting on my notes app for a month and half, and i'm still not too happy on how it turned out, however, i wanted to try and post it. i'm sorry if there's any error, spelling mistake or lack of continuation in the story, i'm willing to come back to re-edit this someday and improve it, in the meantime, thank you if you read the note and the one shot. hope you like it! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

Every birthday, when a shooting star passed by, when you saw a dandelion, when an eyelash fell on your cheek, or on the cheek of someone you loved. You never missed the chance to make a wish.

Well, wishes were no longer something that could be fulfilled. Silently, every time you asked for something, it didn't work out. No matter how hard you wished for it, it just didn't happen.

From the shores of the lake at the quarry, wishing that whatever was happening in the world would be fixed, until the moment the war with the whisperers ended, you didn't stop praying that someone, anyone, would hear your prayer. That they wouldn't stop taking your family away, even though new members kept appearing and making themselves loved, you hated knowing that someone you loved would be a new name on the wall of Alexandria. It could even be you, but luck was on your side. Or not yet.

When you arrived in the Commonwealth, the few members of your family were more than a little scared and suspicious. Still, everyone seemed to fit into this new life that was offered to them... until you had to fight. Once again. To get Negan on your side? Yeah, it was bad. And as things seemed to fall into place once again, you kept losing people. And you lost the one you loved the most in that weak and broken world.

Your lover and best friend.

You can still remember the moment you entered the apartment you shared, not only with each other, but with your nephews and Dog. School had just finished, the work day seemed to have never drained your energy, and you couldn't wait to get home. Hell, maybe you even had the will to bake a pumpkin pie, since autumn was beginning, but that calmness vanished as soon as you saw Daryl's backpack on the couch, along with other belongings. Was he leaving? Was there some kind of run you weren't aware of?

"Babe?" You asked, dropping your bag next to his, while your free hand clung to your necklace. He appeared through the bedroom door, somewhat confused, as he was probably expecting you to arrive later.

"Hey. Yer early.”

"No, I think you're the one who's early." You tried to joke, still playing with the chain on your neck, while a nervous smile appeared on your lips. Daryl seemed to be focused on that movement that you kept making, making it inevitable to meet your gaze. Wrap, wrap, unravel, unravel. "What's going on?"

Your voice brought him out of his trance, making him clear his throat, his gaze going to the floor. He had thought of a thousand ways of how to face that situation, but none of those thousand ways were going to be enough to face reality.

"Yeah, I— uh, I'm leavin'."

"What?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "I'm leav—"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean why, why would you leave?" You asked, feeling your stomach start to churn. After all those years, all those moments, all the time it took for you both to be able to be calm and together, he was leaving? Just like that?

"It ain't about us or anythin’, I'm just... I feel stuck 'ere." He admitted, daring to meet her face and oh boy, he wished he never had. Your nervous eyes met his ocean ones, head tilted slightly, trying to understand him.

"Okay then, we're both leaving. I'm not staying here this time, six years was enough." You answered quickly, passing by him to try to enter the room, ready to pack a bag and leave with him, but his hand caught your wrist.

"I'm doin' it alone. Yer staying here."

"Like hell I'm staying here! What do you mean?!" You asked, raising your voice and causing Daryl to flinch, making your heart clench at the sight. "I didn't mean to raise my voice but I... I don't get it.”

"I need to find Rick, I can't leave Michonne alone with ‘im... I need my time away." He explained as clearly as he could, without stuttering in between. For every word that came out of his mouth, another piece of his heart broke. A humorless laugh left your lips, yanking out of his grasp.

They say the human heart beats between 60 and 100 beats per minute. You weren't sure you were even feeling your heart beating at that moment.

In fact, it was probably so broken that you couldn't feel it in your chest.

"You can leave for Rick but I ain't worth your stay. I get it, Daryl." You said, raising your hands in surrender. "There's nothing I can do about this, about us."

"I told ya, it ain't about you or anything, I just—"

"I understood every fucking time you wanted to leave. I was never against it, I never even approached the places I knew you could be, so you could have your time, but now?" You had to take a moment to breathe, feeling like it wasn't enough, the pressure in your chest too much to pretend it wasn't there. "Now I don't get it, and I probably never will. And yeah, I'm mad as hell because I love you and I don't want you away from me, but since I'm not a good enough reason to stay, then I won't beg.”

Daryl frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded at what you said, never taking his eyes off your face. You knew him well enough to sense that he was holding back the urge to cry, and you weren't far from doing so either.

"Yer more than enough. M'sorry, sunshine." He said softly, slowly approaching to you before finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. As soon as you saw yourself surrounded by that hug, you couldn't help but release those tears you'd been holding back for a while.

For many years, you woke up knowing you'd see his face next to you, you went to sleep knowing it, and you were certain that the heaviest, most crushing part of life turned out to be a little lighter with his presence.

That day, when Daryl was about to leave, was the first day —of all those yet to come— without that certainty.

It was just you and Carol outside the Commonwealth gates. You carefully placed the ring you shared with him on your chain and placed it around his neck, hiding it under his clothes, as you felt his gaze follow every move you made. Daryl would grab that ring and press it into the palm of his hand in the middle of his journey whenever he needed to feel you closer, when there were no people around and he wanted to connect with home.

With a kiss on each cheek, one on his forehead and one on his lips, you gave him a weak smile, as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together, one of your hands holding his free hand, holding tight once again to the man who once was your North.

"Love ya like the ocean." He said in the softest voice you had ever heard from him.

"I love you more." You murmured, walking away so Carol could say goodbye. After exchanging their I love you's, you both took a few steps back, watching as Daryl climbed onto his motorcycle and gave you one last look before starting the engine and accelerating towards his next destination, while you silently wished that the universe would protect the reason why the sun shined.

Months came and went. With each passing season, your life seemed to become duller and more monotonous. Little remained of the life you used to know, and the family you once knew. Perhaps, you were nostalgic too easily

Daryl’s whereabouts remained unknown, as did Rick’s, and God knows where Negan had gotten off to. Every chance you got, you found a blind spot in the Commonwealth you could sneak through, and you spent hours looking for any trace of Daryl, without finding any clue that he was around. The kids and Dog were still in your care, and the families in the community counted on you to educate their children, so you couldn’t allow yourself to disappear for many hours.

But Carol could.

As soon as she had the chance, she dropped everything to go in search of her best friend, promising to bring him back for you, for the kids, and for her, who was starting to feel overwhelmed in that place, the memories weighing more heavily than reality. You knew you couldn't stop her, so once again, you asked the universe to take care of her and allow her to return home, safe and sound.

You still didn't believe in wishes, but you could still try.

When winter break arrived, in the semi-normality that the commonwealth allowed you to have, you set off on a trip to Alexandria with Judith, RJ and Dog, who didn't know how to behave the whole trip, excited about it being his first time traveling by car. Judith looked strange in the back seat, moving her hands inside her backpack, until you heard the sound of a walkie.

Shoto, it's Daito. I found him.

A thousand thoughts went through your head from the moment you recognized Michonne's voice, until you took the children to that field where the helicopter would land. You thought you were living a dream, but it was as real as it could be. Rick's reunion with his daughter, that he could meet RJ, suddenly, made you start crying everything you couldn't cry in Daryl's absence. Ever since Rick had arrived at the quarry, he knew how to be the older brother you never had, and he didn't stop taking care of you as much as he took care of the rest, but maybe he did put a little more effort into you and Carl, who looked for you and Michonne when he was about to commit some mischief.

When the family approached the car again, Michonne was the first to hug you, both stopping to look at each other with admiration and surprise a couple of times, your friend's hands playing with your hair while laughing and exclaiming It's shorter! What have you done with your hair?, unable to believe how short it was compared to how you had it a few years ago. Rick observed the scene with an expression that you couldn't decipher but, as soon as Michonne and the children moved away, he didn't hesitate to hug you with all his strength, swinging from one side to the other while he heard you laugh, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Where the hell have you been, Grimes?! How dare you leave us dealing with Negan by ourselves?" You joked, moving away but only a little, hugging him from the side. On the other side, Judith came over to hug him too. Rick watched his children with a love you had never witnessed in another person.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'm not planning on leaving you guys anytime soon." He said, nodding, extending one of his arms for RJ to fist bump. Only then did you notice that it wasn't his arm, but a black prosthesis. At that moment, you realized everything you had to tell each other, and how much they must want to see Alexandria.

"Well, then... The kids are on vacation and we were visiting Alexandria, are you coming with us?" You suggested, noticing the confusion between Michonne and Rick.

"Visiting? Where have you been living, then?" Michonne questioned, narrowing her eyes. Sighing, you gestured towards the car.

"There's a lot we have to tell you both. Okay, get in the car, we have a few miles left.”

And just like that, the Grimes family was making their arrival at the place they all loved the most. Along the way, you were able to tell them (with Judith’s comments and Dog’s interruptions in between) about how they came to the Commonwealth, what life was like there, and who was left behind. Rick had a lot to process about what had happened in these past few years, the most recent losses and also the additions to the family. His blank expression when he heard Negan befriended her —now— oldest daughter, and that he had saved her in the middle of a storm. He was also able to tell you and the kids about his time at the CRM, his reunion with Jadis, and how they managed to escape, although you were sure he had left out certain details so as not to upset his children.

As you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria and everyone got out of the car, the gates to the community opened to reveal Maggie, Aaron, and Lydia, the first two running to hug Rick and Michonne, while Lydia shyly approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's so nice to see you again, Y/N." She said, her head resting on your shoulder as you hugged her, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, kid. You're taller than the last time I saw you, slow down." You replied, ruffling her hair, turning to see Rick, who was hugging Maggie, Aaron waving at RJ and Jude while Michonne looked at the scene with the same admiration and tenderness as you did.

"I thought you promised to be here with Daryl next time you visit." Lydia said in a mocking tone, pretending to be upset, and while the comment brought a smile to everyone around you, you couldn't help but look at Jude and RJ, both with a sad expression, looking at you too. You didn't know what expression you had put on, but the weight on your chest had appeared again and you could see Lydia's face increasingly scared of the change of environment she had generated. "I—"

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, looking at you with clear concern on her face. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you noticed tears that you didn't know you were holding back falling, you shook your head.

"Daryl, uh... He left." You said as you nodded, looking down.

"What? When did he leave?" Rick's voice made you look up, noticing his confusion at the news that his best friend, his brother, wasn't there with them.

"He wanted to keep searching for you, said that couldn't let Michonne do it for herself. I haven't known anything about him since a few months ago.”

You heard Lydia gasp beside you, taking a few steps back to look at you in disbelief. The expression on everyone's faces ranged from confusion to sadness. No one imagined that Daryl could spend a day away from you, much less by his own will.

"And now what? We have to tell him Rick is here! He'll come back." Aaron reasoned, making the rest nod, agreeing with him. "We can try and track him—"

"I tried." You interrupted him, sighing heavily, thinking of all the times you ran away with the simple intention of finding something that would lead you to Daryl. "And Carol went looking for him, but some time passed too and I don't know where she could be anymore."

"Carol left too? You better be joking." Michonne exclaimed, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Seeing that you were unable to speak, you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, tears having taken over a large part of your face and throat, and she came over to hug you, Lydia taking a step back to let your friend comfort you. A few seconds later, you felt another body hug you from the opposite side, Maggie. Then, the children, Aaron, Rick and Lydia again.

"We're a family. We'll always find the way back home to us." Rick exclaimed, leaning his chin against his wife's head. Closing your eyes, you took that phrase from Rick as your next wish.

May we always find the way back home. May he find the way to us.

And the holiday seasons passed, and the seasons continued, but no one came home again. With each passing day, you lost your hope of ever seeing your lover and his best friend again, who happened to be one of your best friends too. Every time you looked in the mirror, your face looked familiar, but you could no longer see yourself. With the arrival of Rick and Michonne, Jude and RJ were no longer under your care, so —given their parents' decision to stay in the Commonwealth to continue their schooling— the four of them had moved into an apartment, not far from yours, leaving you with Dog and a deafening silence every time you entered the house. Curiously, despite having part of your family back, you found peace when you were away from everyone, and that's why you took advantage of continuing to escape from the community, without anyone knowing, sometimes managing to sneak past Dog on some occasion, who continued to seem to be looking for traces of his partner, of the one who brought him home.

And that's where you thought... If Michonne searched for Rick for so many years, if Rick continued to search for his way home despite everything, if Daryl didn't give up looking for Sophia, for Merle, for Rick, why were you behaving like that? Why were you moving further away from the idea of a reunion when there were people who fought and gave their lives to return to the people they loved? At that moment, in the middle of the class you were giving, is when you made the decision to go back on the road and look for Carol and Daryl, even if it meant giving up your life for it. Three knocks on the door made you turn to look, your students distracted enough not to notice the presence of Ezekiel, who was motioning for you to come closer. You looked at your group one last time before going out into the hallway, noticing that, next to him, there was a tall, skinny boy, with long, somewhat wavy hair. His eyes conveyed tranquility but at the same time, they seemed tired. Almost sad.

"Miss Y/N, this is Laurent, your new student. He flew all the way from France to be here." Ezekiel said with his signature smile. A surprised expression appeared on your face, seeing the young man in front of you smile shyly.

"Bienvenu." You exclaimed, extending your hand in Laurent's direction, who took it without hesitation.

"Merci. Parles-vouz français?" He asked, causing you to grimace, shaking your head from side to side.

"Just a little bit. Do you manage well with English?”

"Yes. I had a few good teachers." He said, shrugging. There was a certain calmness in his tone that you still couldn't quite figure out.

"Well, I'll let you both get back to class, but I need your presence at my office when your shift finishes, mrs. Y/N." Ezequiel instructed, making you nod as you waved at him, watching him walk away. When you looked back at Laurent, he was staring at you like someone who saw a ghost.

"Y/N? Do you know Daryl Dixon?" He asked, and the air caught in your throat. Your feet were no longer on the ground, everything around you seemed to stop. How did this kid, who just arrived from France, know Daryl?

"I, uh... Yeah, yeah, of course I know him. How do you know him? Have you seen him?" You asked back, desperation tangling in your words, and the boy seemed to notice as he nodded.

"We met in France, he helped me get to The Nest, but it didn't turn out so well..."

"The Nest? Sorry, Laurent, I really want to get to know you but," you said as you crouched down in front of him, gently taking him by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me if Daryl is alive, do you know that?”

"I haven't seen him the last time. Ash told us the plane wouldn't be able to fly with the four of us, so Daryl told me to fly with Carol, but—"

"Carol, you said Carol. A woman with short, gray hair?" At your question, Laurent nodded, making you let out a sigh of relief, but your heart was beating fast in your chest. "Okay, I'm sorry, keep going."

Laurent took a breath before continuing to speak. "Well, the four of us couldn't make it to the plane, so Daryl let the three of us fly, but Carol went out of the plane because we were being attacked by a group."

"Attacked?! But haven't you seen Daryl or Carol again?"

"No, mrs. Y/N, I was on the plane." The young man in front of you answered with some regret in his voice. You felt like you weren't making the best impression, but you couldn't help it. These were the two people you cared about most in the world, and you still didn't quite understand how the hell they had both managed to get to France. Sighing regretfully, you nodded a couple of times, disappointed at the idea of giving up, once again, the last clue you might have to Daryl's whereabouts. Standing up a little, but without moving your hands from Laurent's shoulders, you gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you for the information and I'm sorry if my first impression was not the best, Laurent. I'll tell you what? We're gonna introduce you to the class, and then we'll go for a slice of apple pie so you can tell me more about yourself, what do you think?" You asked, forcing yourself to smile at the boy in front of you. Laurent nodded, entering the classroom he would share with his classmates. Any fear you might have felt about the boy not being included was dispelled when you saw that the other kids were excited to meet someone who was not only not from the Commonwealth, but also came from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The day passed, and as you walked to the coffee shop alongside Laurent, you listened to his stories and his journey to get there. How he met Daryl, what he taught him, and the things he sacrificed to take care of him. He told you about his aunt Isabelle, and how she loved Daryl, assuring you that he loved her too, and how she braided her hair into a braid every morning, and the life she left behind to give one to him. And in that moment, with your heart a little crushed and tears threatening to fall, you noticed that the trees began to bloom, the sun was shining a little brighter, and maybe —just maybe— someone had heard your wishes. Laurent was the sign that everything was okay.

So you decided that from now on, everything would be okay.

For Laurent, for Daryl. For yourself.

Ezekiel had asked you to take Laurent under your care, trusting you because of the dedication everyone saw and had with Judith and RJ, so it became your personal project. If Daryl had decided that the boy was going to have a better life and sent him across the ocean, it was your duty to continue the work Daryl started. Every week, at least once or twice, you and Dog would go outside the walls when school was over, to practice with some weapons, and even travel beyond the Commonwealth. Judith, with whom he had become friends and debate partners, offered to give him lessons with the katana, although Laurent ended up preferring a bow and arrow, being his favorite weapon. You would never forget the hug he gave you when you gave him his first bow of his own, a smile from ear to ear as he said that now he could be like Daryl.

Rick and Michonne didn't waste any time and wanted to be a part of it too, when they were free from their respective jobs. RJ took the opportunity to sneak around older kids and bother them... sometimes, or almost always. With more people to look after the kids, all of you allowed yourselves to go a few miles further from the community, and although everyone had their guard up and didn't seem to be in any danger, beyond running into some lost walker, being a living person in an apocalyptic world never allowed you to be completely at peace.

While you were on the side of the road checking the SUV that seemed to have not survived the summer heat, Michonne had her eyes on the surroundings, while you and Rick tried to get the car to start so you could escape the hellish heat that was hitting the afternoon. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one leg out of the car, you looked out the window, watching the boys playing some game they had invented on the spot and laughing, making you smile, until your smile turned into a panicked expression.

“RJ, watch out!” You shouted, getting out of the car as you saw a walker approaching the youngest, who was a bit further away from the group and unarmed. He turned to look at you, scared, reacting in time and moving away from the dead one, Michonne being quick to cut his head off in a clean cut, rushing to hug her son. Rick looked up in alarm, calling them to come back closer to the car.

“Don't get too far, that was a lonely walker but there could be more, aight?” He questioned, approaching to adjust his son's hat, giving him a smile. The little boy nodded, knowing full well what his dad was referring to.

“Dad?” Judith said, reaching for the katana on her back as she looked towards the forest in front of you. As she looked towards the trees, a feeling of fear deepened in your stomach. It wasn't just a couple, but a big pack of walkers heading towards you, slowly but surely. There was no shelter, and the car still wasn't working. Circling the car as you pulled the knives out of their sheaths, you approached the group.

“Get in the car. Now.” You ordered. You weren't going to let your family expose themselves after everything they went through.

“Don't be stupid, you can't take them out by yourself. We need each other.” Michonne exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her katana. “Kids, get in the car.”

RJ nodded, running towards the car to get inside, but Judith had a hard expression, while Laurent didn’t know what to do.

“Laurent, get in the car with RJ and Judith. It's gonna be okay.” You instructed, and although the boy seemed hesitant, he ended up obeying, but not before looking once more at everyone, as if wanting to remember their faces in case something happened.

“Judith, I'm not gonna say it again. Get in the car with your brother.” Rick ordered through clenched teeth, noticing how the horde seemed to be getting closer. Jude tightened his hands around the handle of her katana, looking at her dad in the eyes.

“I can fight. I'll stay here.”

“You can fight but you shouldn't, get in the car.” His dad repeated, punctuating the last sentence. As you looked between them and the horde, you stepped forward, raising your knives, Michonne at your side in formation, watching the dead advance towards you. In the air, the heat seemed to be more unbearable than it really was, but the worst thing was the tension, the feeling that every minute that passed was an opportunity for the horde to reach you.

You were the first to act. Moving forward with confident steps towards the first walker that approached with one of your knives raised, you stabbed the blade between its eyes with precision, making it fall to the ground, inert. But, without time to stop, two other walkers lunged at you, making you drop one of the knives while its rotten hands searched for meat. You dodged the first one, but the second one reached you, its firm hand on your arm. You screamed at the force you were exerting to stop it from getting any closer than necessary, but quickly, Rick appeared at your side and, with a precise blow, cut off the head of the dead one that had attacked you.

“I got you.” He said, swinging his axe, while turning to look at Judith with a hard expression. “I won't say it again.”

And with that, the girl —more frightened from the look on her dad’s face than from the horde— ran towards the car, getting in the backseat along with the two boys.

Meanwhile, Michonne was at his side, swinging her katana back and forth with force. Each blow she delivered cut flesh and bone, but for every walker that fell, others seemed to rise from the shadows of the scorching heat. The road seemed to have filled with the dead, their number increasing with each passing minute.

The hot air mixed with the nauseating smell of decomposing bodies, and the sound of screams and blows became a macabre symphony. The ground burned beneath your feet, but neither Rick, nor Michonne, nor you stopped. You knew that survival depended on being precise and working together.

As you hit another walker in the head, the back of the knife sinking into its skull with a thud. Sweat blinded your eyes, but it didn’t matter. Danger was everywhere, and you weren’t going to let anything happen to your family, even if your life was at stake. As you got cornered from the wave of walkers that didn’t seem to end, you whistled to get your friends’ attention.

“Let’s get in the car and wait it out! We won't make it!” You shouted, pushing a walker to the ground as Michonne moved to stomp on its skull. Nodding slightly, they both backed away to the car, watching as Rick continued to take out walkers with his axe and the knife in his other arm, not stopping for a moment.

“Rick, let’s go!” Michonne shouted, making him turn to look at her. His face was splattered with blood, as were his hands, and you didn’t dare look at yours because you knew you were just as bad or worse than him. As the three of you ran towards the car, you got rid of the few walkers that posed a threat near the vehicle, both to get in and to the children inside. Upon reaching it, you waited for them to get in first so you could pretend to get in and close the door behind them, clinging to the car’s railing and quickly climbing onto the roof, listening to the muffled screams of your family from inside the car, which was inevitably being surrounded by the dead ones. Taking the gun that you had in the waistband of your pants and had decided not to use because of the noise and the small number of bullets, you began to shoot as much as you could at the walkers that got too close. The air was thick, all your movements seemed to be automatic, you didn't understand how this was your daily life before being in the tranquility of the Commonwealth. In the midst of getting rid of the dead, you couldn't help but remember Carol and Daryl as soon as they had arrived in Alexandria, saying that the walls could make the group weaker. That's how you felt at that moment: weak.

Weak when you pulled the trigger and you had no more bullets, and there was no way to get into the car without getting out and exposing yourself. Weak when you got on your knees, with one hand held on the railing, as you continued to sink the edge of your knife into the skulls of the walkers, and your lungs seemed to burn from the effort you were making, not knowing if what you felt on your face was sweat or blood, or both. Weak when you heard gunshots around you, and you couldn't do anything else but try to cover yourself with your arms, almost lying on the roof of the car, but being able to see out of the corner of your eye that the walkers were falling in numbers. The sound of bullets was deafening, but so was the pounding of your heart in your ears. Eventually, when the blast of lead stopped, you dared to look down, meeting a pair of blue eyes you knew well.

“Carol?”

“Hi, pookie.” She exclaimed with a smile as her expression trembled. Leaving the knife and gun on the roof of the car, you jumped out of it as she simultaneously threw her gun to the ground, her arms wrapping around your body tightly. As you rubbed her back, you could hear a sob from her, as well as the car doors opening, exclamations of excitement and surprise from the Grimes family. You couldn’t believe she was finally here, back.

“Aunt Carol!” The Grimes brothers shouted, approaching to hug their aunt. Slowly moving away, you wiped your cheeks, which you didn’t know if they were wet with sweat or tears. Turning to look at Rick and Michonne, both of them watched the scene with emotion, but without having said it out loud, you were all thinking of the same person, not noticing the figure that was a few meters away from you, lowering his crossbow until it rested on the ground.

It was hard for Daryl to believe the scene before him. His luck had been so twisted over the years that it wouldn't surprise him to be close to death once again and that what he was experiencing was a hallucination. He looked for some mistake in the moment, something that would indicate to him that Laurent hadn't arrived safe and sound, that his nephew and niece weren't hugging his best friend, that his brother and his partner were alive and together. But no, they all existed and were there, at that moment. Even the love of his life.

The love of his life was there, under the brightest sun he had felt on his skin since he had gone away, and suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. The weight of his actions and the regret of even his own thoughts made his head spin, but even as he repeated over and over the mistakes he had made since he left you, he dared to take a step forward, entering his family's field of vision. The first to turn around was Rick, who held his gaze with an emotion that could have knocked him to the ground. Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding in greeting, the lump in his throat not letting him formulate a word. Rick, being more demonstrative than he could be, advanced with long strides until he reached his best friend, hugging him with the same strength they hugged when Daryl was freed from Negan's captivity, when the imminent threat of war was upon them but they still had time to rejoice in knowing they were alive. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on the shoulder of his brother, of the man who forced himself to think he was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain and keep searching, more than once. Moving away so they could see each other, Rick laughed through his tears when he noticed that his best friend was crying too.

“Feels good to have you back, brother.” He said, patting the archer on the shoulder, to which he nodded.

“Feels good t'be back.” He replied, directing his gaze at Michonne, at Carol, his traveling companion, at the children, and finally at you, who seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing if he was a ghost or if that was really happening. “Not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.”

“You better not leave again, Dixon. I'll kick your ass, I'm not even kidding.” Michonne said, approaching with a smile so she could hug him, to which he happily responded. It was no news that physical contact was not something he completely liked, but he wouldn't avoid it. He wasn't going to avoid it this time. His hands were shaking from the exciting moment he was experiencing, and beyond the hug with Michonne, he could still watch you, unable to decipher your expression easily. Before he could react, as his friend walked away, the three kids rushed towards him, while he tried to hug them back. Carol was hugged on either side by Rick and Michonne, while you stood with your arms crossed watching the whole sequence.

“Knew you’d come back.” Laurent said, giving a smile to Daryl, who smiled back, nodding.

“I promised I would. I was still gonna find ya, whether you like it or not.” Daryl replied, playfully ruffling his hair. Judith, silently and being more perceptive than the other two children, carefully stepped away from her uncle, approaching you to take your hand. Her fingers intertwined with yours, causing you to look down at her. You responded with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before looking forward again, noticing Daryl approaching you. Before he could get much closer, you took a few steps forward, shortening the distance, bringing one of your hands, trembling, to his cheek. With your thumb you traced that scar that seemed to be more alive than ever, but that somehow, highlighted the color of his eyes. His lip busted, a black eye, another scar on his other cheek, multiple scars on his forehead and still, you saw the most beautiful man that ever existed. It was like the sunlight had transformed into a human form, and he was standing right in front of you, tilting his head against your palm. His hand went to your wrist, caressing it as he watched you, causing you to pull away. Daryl felt your touch on his skin like a burning heat, even though you were no longer touching him.

“I’m glad you're back, Daryl.” You said, your voice mentioning his name was music to his ears. He still couldn't figure you out and it was frustrating him, but he would let what had to happen happen. After all, he had used up every chance you had given him, and he knew he was wrong from the moment he got on his motorcycle to leave everything behind.

“I'm happy yer still here.” He dared to say, and it took everything in him to be able to find his voice in the midst of the anguish. With a half smile, you nodded, turning to look at your friends, your family, as you took a breath before speaking.

“So… are we ready to go home?”

The drive to the Commonwealth seemed to be quicker than it usually was. The car, as if by magic, had started up without any problems. The kids were more than happy to have their uncle back, Rick and Michonne were talking to each other, and you looked back through the windshield of the car at Daryl and Carol, who were coming behind you on Daryl's motorcycle that they had magically been able to find. You didn't want to know how that had happened.

Arriving home? That was another major event. Daryl hadn't been forgotten in the Commonwealth, and for every step he took, there was a different person greeting or welcoming him. Aaron, Maggie, and Lydia were happy to hear from him and Carol, asking them to go to Alexandria as soon as they could. As quickly as he could, Laurent went to get Dog, who kept wagging his tail and crying between barks as Daryl petted him. It took a while for the furry one to get away from his owner, but Laurent took him for a walk so Daryl could get on with what he had to do. Everything seemed to be falling back into place, but Daryl felt that the only thing he was missing was having a well-deserved talk with you, who disappeared as soon as they set foot inside the community. When the people stopped pestering him, he allowed himself a visit to the doctor (forced by Rick) who assured him that he was in perfect condition, beyond a few cuts or bruises here and there, which were healed and bandaged for his safety.

“Now you can go rest, you deserve it.” Rick said, hugging him by the shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. Daryl shook his head, looking ahead, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Nah. I gotta talk to ‘er.” He muttered, squinting as he felt the sun’s rays hit his face, now turning to look at his friend.

Rick nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, I know.” He said in a much quieter voice than before, searching for the right words before speaking again. “You and Y/N are the last people I saw at the bridge, you know? And that image was my best company for a while, as well as Michonne and Jude. I knew she had your back, and you had hers too. I found peace knowing that.”

Daryl, for the first time in a long time, let out a sob that he couldn’t control, quickly wiping away any trace of tears with the back of his hand. The weight of the people he’d lost, the times he’d walked away from everyone, the image of the bridge exploding, the search for Rick, the trip to France, continuing to run from the consequences of his bad decisions, having to let Isabelle go and Laurent face a new world alone. He felt tremendously responsible, but he felt even worse for leaving despite your asking him not to.

“I fail- I failed ‘er. She ain't supposed t’deal with all of this.” He said, trying to control the tremble in his voice, while Rick's hand pressed on his shoulder, letting him know he was there for him.

“None of us is supposed to deal with the bullshit we dealt, man. She stayed because she knew you were worth it,” taking a breath, he searched for his friend's gaze, failing in the attempt, “and I still don't know if I deserved Michonne’s loyalty, but she gave it to me, and now? I'm not gonna let that go, and you shouldn't either.”

With a pat on the chest, and noticing that Daryl wasn't going to respond with more than a nod, he walked him to the door of your apartment, before waving and leaving. With his heart pounding, he knocked on the door a few times, knowing that he could have locked himself in another time because that home belonged to him too. Noticing that there was no answer or noise from the other side, he leaned against the door, almost falling backwards when it suddenly opened. Looking around, he noticed that no one had opened it, but that the handle seemed to be faulty. If you weren't home, why was the door open?

Entering quietly, he closed the door behind him, observing his surroundings. Despite the time that had passed, nothing was too different. Order was always something that characterized you, and this was no exception: everything was where it should be. Approaching the fridge, he noticed some drawings made by Judith and RJ, even one made by Laurent, stealing a smile from him. A little higher up, there was a polaroid that he could recognize well. The group had recently arrived in Alexandria, and you were both on the stairs of the house you all shared the first night. He was sitting on the steps, one of his arrows in his hands while his crossbow was next to him, you sitting behind him, a few steps up, your arms around his shoulders with a huge smile on your lips, while he was focused on whatever he was doing with the arrow. He didn't remember who had taken the photo, but he couldn't believe that you still kept it, and that it was preserved without problems despite all those years that had passed.

“We were young, huh?” Daryl turned quickly, finding you behind him, at a safe distance, a cigarette between your fingers as you watched him with your head slightly tilted.

“Yer still younger than me, but uh... I'm sorry, I ain't—”

“I knew you were coming sooner or later, Daryl, it's okay. The door’s broken anyways.” You assured him, taking another drag of the cigar, letting out the smoke a few seconds later and using your opposite hand to break up that cloud. “You want one?” You asked, raising your hand to refer to the cigarette, him shaking his head without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder when you had started smoking, given that the smell had made you wrinkle your nose in disgust a while back.

“Nah, thanks. I wanted to talk to ya.” He said, shifting his weight on his legs while staring at you, trying to notice little things that changed in your face while he was away, but he couldn't find any. The only thing that was different was your hair, and you still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry, and thank you for taking care of Laurent. He's been through a lot and he's just a kid, so yeah, thanks.”

As he finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot at the words he chose. He wanted to run away and bury his head in the ground, so that no one would perceive him as a human being ever again.

“I did it from the heart and out of love, so you don't owe me anything. Not a thank you, not a sorry. I did it because I felt and knew it was the right thing to do, and because I knew you were sending him.” You started to speak, approaching the kitchen table, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray that was on it, right where Daryl stood on the other end. “You know? The day Laurent showed up, I had decided to go after you and Carol, but then he came along and I knew it was the sign that everything was okay. And maybe I held on to that illusion for too long, without any certainty since the day you left, but it was the first time in months that I felt and knew that everything would be okay.”

Daryl nodded, understanding what you meant, and knowing that there would be no way to apologize without you wanting to ignore it. “I wish I could’ve asked ya if ya wanted to take care of ‘im, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Laurent has been a great companion the last few months. He told me great things about you, about Isabelle.” You said as you sat down, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same, but he remained stuck in his place. His body seemed to be made of the heaviest material in the world, because he couldn't manage to move after what he had heard.

“Listen, I—”

“You don't have to expl—”

“I have to! I need to explain.” He interrupted you, exasperated. “When I left, it was never because of ya. Never. I thought I’d had the chance to make things right while I was away, but I didn't, I fucked it up like I always do. I couldn't protect the people I was ‘posed to protect. I promised Isabelle and I promised Laurent a new life here, a life where they could be free.”

Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned slightly, not daring to look you in the eye. “And I failed again, and the worst part is I realized that the only thing that kept me going was this.” Carefully, he reached under his shirt, taking that chain you had given him with your ring, making you gasp in surprise. You thought he might have lost it in all that time, but it turns out he never stopped having it around his neck. “T’was never Laurent or Isabelle or anything, it was you. I was worried outta my mind thinking how you’d be, if you were even alive. And fer every time I thought ‘bout giving up, you were the person I thought. Comin’ back home to ya.”

You didn’t know when, or how, but your cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears, trying to keep quiet as you listened to the man you loved with the strength of a thousand suns. Wiping your cheeks with the palm of your hand, you watched him walk around the table, stopping right in front of you, his hands cupping your face as gently as possible, feeling the leather of his gloves on your skin, while his thumbs caressed your cheekbones.

“I don't… I don't even know what to say.” You murmured, looking up to look at him, soaking in every little detail of his face once again. “I waited for those words for so long. I cursed your name too many times, only to beat myself up to think about you in that way. I'm sorry for not being the partner you needed, Daryl, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.”

The archer shook his head, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I told ya. You're more than enough, and I'm sorry for makin' you doubt it, it's me that's gotta say sorry.”

“I guess we're both sorry, but I'm scared, Dar.” You admitted, making him move away so he could see you. With a sound of effort, he squatted down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you scared about, sunshine?” He asked, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them. Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head, not knowing whether to say the next words or not.

“I'm scared of you leaving again. I can't stand another goodbye, not from you, not again.” Sighing in a ragged manner, you met his blue eyes watching you with understanding, without having to explain much more to understand. “And I also don't wanna be selfish, because it'll be cruel if I make you do something you don't want, but I can't help how I feel.”

“Listen to me, woman.” He ordered as soon as you finished speaking, perhaps seeming too eager to clarify what he felt. “I ain't leavin’, not again, not without you at least. Can we start over?”

“We'll stay, and we'll start over.” You said, nodding your head. Carefully, Daryl brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His forehead met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you smiled genuinely.

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

But maybe this time, just this time, you would give them another chance.

#🍃—arieswrites #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd rick #twd michonne #twd carol #twd towl #twd tboc

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d1xonss · 3 days ago

Text

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

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon series #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead series #twd #twd fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus #desert rose

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daryltwdixon · 6 hours ago

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Rereading my series to get back into fmc’s headspace and this scene always ripped my heart 😭❤️

The Promise of Us: Chapter 39

“So the game goes, I say something I’ve never done, and if you have done it, you drink. If you haven’t done it, I drink. Then, we switch,” Beth explains, sitting across from Daryl with a cup in her hand. “You really don’t know this game?”

“I ain’t never needed a game to get lit before,” Daryl replies, the skin of his thumb caught between his teeth.

“Wait, are we startin’?” Beth asks, her excitement clashing with his simmering reluctance.

“How do you know this game?” he mutters, his suspicion barely hidden.

“My friends played, I watched.” She brushes off his question and adds, “Okay, I’ll start.” She closes her eyes, pretending to think hard, but her first attempt is obvious. “I’ve never… shot a crossbow! So, now you drink.”

Daryl rubs his fingers together, staring at her with a deadpan expression. He wants to resist, but the rules seem simple enough. He reaches for his cup, bringing the strong liquid to his lips, feeling the familiar burn as he drinks. “Ain’t much of a game,” he mutters.

“That was a warm-up!” Beth insists. “You go.”

He grunts, hand returning to his mouth, teeth picking at the skin around his nails. His mind’s a mix of annoyance and hesitation. “I don’t know,” he mumbles.

“Just… say the first thing that pops in your head!” she presses, trying to keep the energy light.

“I’ve never been outta Georgia,” he finally says.

“Really?” Beth responds, intrigued. “Okay, good one.” She takes a sip, her curiosity palpable.

She continues quickly, eyes narrowing a bit as she thinks. “I’ve never been drunk and did somethin’ I regretted.”

Daryl stiffens, feeling the subtle dig. He knows she’s trying to pry, to make him crack open, even a little. His defenses flare up, and it’s not anger he feels—it’s shame. He lifts his glass and takes a swig, the bitter taste doing nothing to wash away the memories of all the bad decisions he’s made under the influence of liquor.

“I’ve done alotta things,” he says flatly, the words clipped.

“Your turn,” she prompts, eager to keep the rhythm going.

Daryl’s eyes shift as he thinks, feeling the weight of her gaze. “I’ve never been on vacation,” he says, voice low.

“What about campin’?” she asks, her tone lighter, almost playful.

“No, that’s just somethin’ we—” He pauses, the words catching in his throat. His gaze drops, shame bleeding into his expression until he looks up again after a heartbeat, “I had to learn. To hunt.”

Beth’s eyes soften. “Your dad teach you?” she asks, trying to be careful.

“Mhm,” he grunts, nodding, still watching for her reaction.

Beth shifts awkwardly before coming up with her next attempt. “I’ve never been to jail. I mean—as a prisoner.”

His eyes narrow, the question striking a raw nerve. The old shame, buried deep but never forgotten, wells up inside him. He feels suddenly exposed, his past laid bare in front of her.

“Is this what you think of me?” he asks quietly, voice tight with both defensiveness and hurt.

Beth’s eyes widen, realizing she’s crossed a line. “I didn’t mean anything serious,” she backpedals quickly. “I thought maybe the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that back in the day.”

Daryl doesn’t let up, pointing to her with a rough gesture. “Drink up,” he demands, his hand back on his face, fingers covering his chin as if trying to shield himself from her scrutiny.

But Beth’s smile creeps back. “Wait! Prison guard, were you a prison guard before?” she guesses, her enthusiasm unintentionally prodding him further.

He takes his time answering, staring hard at her. “No,” he says at last, his voice low and flat.

“It’s your turn again,” she presses gently, trying to get back into the rhythm of the game.

But Daryl’s done. He pushes himself up abruptly, muttering, “Gotta take a piss,” as he stalks out of the cramped living room. It’s an excuse, and a thin one, but he needs distance. The game was never about fun to him—it was an interrogation, a slow peeling back of layers he’s spent the life he had now trying to forget.

He heads into the kitchen, releasing his fly, dropping his glass of leftover alcohol on the floor as it shatters on the ground. Her questions riled something in him—how different their lives have been, how far apart their worlds are. Beth grew up with family dinners and curfews; Daryl grew up with broken bottles and bruises, fighting just to exist. And then there’s Y/N, who grew up in the same kind of hell he did. She got it, never needed to ask these kinds of questions because she knew—she lived it. The shame from his past was never something he had to explain to her.

The glass shatters beneath Daryl’s boots, and Beth’s voice cuts through the chaos, urgent but hushed. “You have to be quiet.”

But Daryl’s fury is already boiling over, his body coiled tight with anger. “Can’t hear you! I’m takin’ a piss!” he shouts, voice harsh and ragged.

“Daryl, don’t talk so loud,” Beth hisses, her voice tense.

“What? You my chaperone now?” he barks back, his voice rough, his words laced with a bitterness that’s been festering inside him for far too long. He urinates against the kitchen wall, the anger a twisted kind of relief. When he’s done, he zips up, spinning to face Beth. “Oh, wait, it’s my turn, right?”

Beth’s face is a mix of frustration and something close to pity, but Daryl ignores it. He looks out the grimy window into the darkness of the woods, eyes distant, searching for something he’ll never find. “I’ve never, uhh…” he mutters, adjusting his belt as he steps into the room. “Never eaten frozen yogurt , never had a pet pony. Never got nothin’ from Santa Claus .” His voice turns sharper, colder, as he shoves over a dusty vase that crashes to the floor, shattering in front of him. He steps closer to Beth, lip curling with disdain. “Never relied on anyone for protection before—hell, I don’t think I’ve ever relied on anyone for anything!”

“That’s not true—” Beth begins, her voice softening as she tries to reach him, “You and—”

“ Don’t ,” he snarls, his voice breaking, pointing a finger at her, his face twisted with barely-contained rage. “Don’t you dare.” It feels like a dam breaking now, and he keeps going, throwing words at her again and again:

“I’ve never sung out in front of a big group in public, like everything was fine,” he continues, his voice heavy with contempt, each word dripping with raw pain. “I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin’ for attention.”

Beth’s eyes widen, her initial shock quickly turning to anger. She twists to face him fully, her back straightening, her expression hardened. But before she can speak, the banging against the door grows louder, a chorus of guttural growls now turned to snarling from the walker outside.

“Ah, sounds like our friend out there’s tryin’ to call all his buddies!” Daryl screams, his voice rising with a reckless, desperate edge. He kicks a chair across the kitchen, making as much noise as he can. “Hey, you never shot a crossbow before? I’m gonna teach you, right now,” he snarls, grabbing Beth roughly by the arm. He kicks open the back door, dragging her out into the low evening light.

“Daryl, stop it! Daryl!” Beth squeals, panic and anger clear in her voice, but he pulls her forward, ignoring her protests.

The walker at the window turns toward them, drawn by the commotion. “Dumbass,” Daryl growls, leveling his crossbow at it. “Come here, dumbass.” He releases an arrow, pinning the walker to a nearby tree.

“You wanna shoot?” he demands, shoving the crossbow into Beth’s hands.

“I don’t—I don’t know how,” she stammers, her voice breaking.

“Oh, it’s easy,” Daryl says, positioning himself behind her, his chest pressing into her back. He forces the crossbow into her trembling arms, guiding her to aim. “Come here, right corner,” he mutters darkly, firing another arrow that lands with a dull thunk.

“Let’s practice later!” Beth insists, fists clenched as she tries to break free from his grip.

“Come on, it’s fun,” he grunts, voice harsh and almost manic.

“Just stop it! Daryl!” she cries, twisting away.

“Come here,” he repeats, his voice low and menacing, pulling her back toward the walker pinned to the tree. “Eight ball,” he snarls, releasing another arrow that thuds into its chest.

“Just kill it!” Beth yells, her voice thick with fear and frustration.

“Come here, Greene. Let’s pull these out,” he says releasing her, his tone almost taunting as he steps closer to the walker.

But Beth moves quicker, lunging forward and plunging her knife into the walker’s skull with a sharp, angry thrust.

“The hell you do that for? I was havin’ fun!” Daryl yells, his voice raw as he gets in her face, his breath coming fast and angry.

“No, you were bein’ a jackass!” Beth shouts back, her eyes blazing with tears. “If anyone found my dad—”

“Don’t,” he snarls, cutting her off sharply. “Not even remotely the same.” He’s close now, so close that his anger is palpable, radiating off him in waves.

“Killin’ them is not supposed to be fun ,” Beth spits, leaning in, unafraid now, her eyes fierce.

“What do you want from me, girl?” he roars, his voice breaking with a mix of rage and grief.

Beth cries in his face, “I want you to stop actin’ like none of this matters! Like nothin’ we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything!” her voice is harsh, cracking, as she bares her teeth at him, “It’s bullshit!”

“Is that what you think?” Daryl’s voice drops, his anger smoldering into something darker, more bitter. His eyes are cold, but his voice trembles slightly.

“That’s what I know,” she snaps, voice faltering as she looks him up and down, “You haven’t even said her name , Daryl— just say it! Say you miss her! And that you miss the others! Rick, Michonne—”

“You don’t know nothin’,” he growls, shaking his head violently.

“I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl ,” she cries, her voice wavering with a mix of pain and frustration. “I’m not like her, Daryl! I’m not like Y/N! I’m not tough, but I’ve survived! But you don’t get it, ’cause I’m not like the two of you, or the others. Carol or Maggie… But I made it! And you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid!” She waves her hands at him, her face wet with tears.

He steps closer, his face inches from hers, his breath ragged. “I ain’t afraid of nothin’.”

“I remember,” Beth says, her voice lower, shaking with tears, “When that little girl came outta the barn, after my mom. And the night you found Y/N in the field, seeing you in the morning on the highway with her covered in blood, the both of you. And now God forbid you ever let anybody else get too close.”

“Too close, huh? Bet you know all about that,” Daryl sneers, his finger jabbing at her accusingly. “Lost two boyfriends and can’t even shed a tear!” His voice is full of venom. “Your whole family’s gone and all you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch!”

“Screw you, you don’t get it!” she shouts.

“No, you don’t get it!” Daryl roars, his voice breaking. “Everyone we know is dead! ”

“You don’t know that!” she screams back, desperation in her voice.

“Might as well be, ’cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again!” he snaps, “Rick–” he stops short, her name almost coming off the tip of his tongue then, but he holds it back, the only morsel he can hang onto as his walls come crumbling down in this moment, “You ain’t never gonna see Maggie again!”

“Daryl, just stop!” she begs, reaching for him.

“No!” he twists away, the pain and guilt rushing up uncontrollably as his back faces her. After a heartbeat, his voice breaks as he says, his throat tight, “The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I… if I wouldn’t have stopped lookin’, maybe because I gave up. That’s on me!”

“Daryl—”

“No!” he shouts again, shaking her off, his voice cracking, “And your dad …Maybe I coulda done somethin’...and her , god…” his voice wavers now, the sting in his eyes, his throat tight and throbbing, “She’s…she’s prob–probably already...already...dead,” the words barely make it out of his mouth, his throat so thick with grief.

But suddenly, Beth is on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle, hugging him with a fierce, desperate strength. It’s like she’s trying to hold together all the unraveling pieces of him as her arms wrap around him, fingers interlocked against his chest so he doesn’t push her off. But he doesn’t. Daryl’s chest heaves, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The dam finally breaks, and he sobs into the night air—quiet, breathless, and broken.

#shameless plug #the promise of us #the ruins of us #the heart of us #Daryl Dixon fic rec #fic rec #the walking dead fanfiction #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader

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corvidcrossbow · 7 months ago

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~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

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xoxo-sarah · 3 months ago

Text

My Wife

↝a/n: 2,605 w/c... I like this one, guys.

↝pairing: Season 1!Daryl x wife!reader

↝warning: usual walking dead stuff, angst, animal death (mentions blood. No details), reader being sexualized?, creepy men, harassment, the creepy guy getting punched (he deserved it), cursing, protective Daryl, Merle (ew), crying, moody and soft Daryl, sassy Daryl (it's season one, what do you expect?), slightly proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 10.2.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

Before the apocalypse, you'd say your life wasn't bad. You had a decent job that paid well. A husband, a dog, and a house you owned all on your own, without any help from your parents.

You had met Daryl fresh out of college. He was staying with Merle at the time. In a rush to get away from your parents, you found a rent-to-own house on the outskirts of Atlanta. It wasn't extravagant, only having 2 beds and one bath. It was still a house-your house.

The first time you went to the grocery store to stock up before you started work since the big move, an old man had hit on you. Daryl listened from afar, not wanting to cause any more trouble for you. He knew you hadn't been in these parts of town before, he hadn't seen you before.

After many attempts at shooting the guy down, Daryl had to intervene. The guy had grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, the guy was backing away from you.

“She said she's not interested.”

“My bad, man. Didn't know she was yours.” He raised his hands, grin still on his face. It was a game to him.

“So you only take no for an answer if I 'belong' to someone?” Venom laced your voice, disgust painted into the wrinkles between your eyebrows and frown lines, glaring through the guy. A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, followed by a smoker's cough that told you he had more tar in his lungs than he had sense in his brain.

“Ma'am, will all due respect-”

“I doubt anything respectful comes out of that raunchy mouth of yours.”

His grin dropped, eyes slanting in your direction. “This one sure has a mouth on her,” his attention moved back to Daryl. “She have that mouth in the sack?”

You scoffed, glancing down at the floor, collecting the words you wanted to shoot back at him.

In the time you looked away, Daryl had put the 12-pack of beer down and swung. You snapped your head up at the sound of a fist colliding with a cheek. Daryl glared, spitting at the man as he held his cheek in shock. “Give the lady some respect, prick.”

“Damnit, Dixon!” An elderly man came running down the aisle, a manager tag clinking against the pins on his shirt. Safe to say both men had been kicked out.

After checking out, you caught sight of Daryl hunched over, looking at his bruising knuckles.

“Here's for helping me.”

Daryl's head shot up, eyes flickering to the 12-pack in your outstretched hand. “Ya didn't have to.”

“You didn't have to.” He shrugged, taking the box from you.

the rest was history.

You eventually got together, then, moved in together. He supported you in your job, making jokes about you “bringing home the bacon”. The only downside was his brother.

“Damnit, Merle.”

An intoxicated Merle flopped on your couch, cackling up at Daryl. You watched from behind the couch, arms folded across Daryl's shirt draping over your form. Daryl's own top half was bare, his muscles flexing when he folded his arms in disappointment, glaring down.

“What? Did I interrupt you 'n your housewife duties?”

You scoffed, turning around to walk back to your room, the dog Daryl had gotten you for your birthday following after you. Merle watched your movement, lowly whistling. “I'd be a housewife for that piece, too.”

Daryl grabbed the collar of Merle's shirt, bringing him to eye level. “Don't talk about my wife like that.” He threw him back against the couch, “You're out by the mornin'.”

The world had gone to shit right in the middle of your workday. Everyone was running around, yelling and panicking. You tried making a beeline for your car, getting pushed and pulled every which way. The traffic was the worst you had ever seen, when you had finally made your way onto the road.

When you finally got home, the door was open.

You rushed in, looking in every room. There was no sign of Daryl besides the place being completely trashed, in a rush to leave. He wasn't there. You had no clue where he was, if he was safe, if he knew what was happening.

You cracked the backdoor open, nearly falling to your knees. A body laid on the back porch, blood dried on its way down the person's forehead. A lump of fur and blood was right beside it. A sob racked your body on your way back to your car. Your knuckles were ghostly white as they gripped the steering wheel, as you made your way out of town, away from the life you worked hard to get and worked harder to keep.

You eventually got stuck in even more traffic. Everything only got worse when your car ran out of gas.

You had to hide in the city, which was run with zombies. Luckily for you, you had found a few bodies that hadn't turned yet, stealing anything that could be used as a weapon. You were able to stay safe, hiding in an empty office building. Living off of the vending machines and what was left in the break rooms.

You regularly walked up to the roof, getting fresh air, wondering where Daryl had gone and if he was thinking of you. Sure, a part of you wanted to be mad at him for leaving without you, but you knew he had to have his reasons. Merle had to of made him run away with him when the news first got out.

While you looked over the edge, watching as dead bodies herded together, feasting on whatever had run into the city on your way up here, you saw quick movement to your left. Swirling around, you held your gun up, pointing it at the kid in front of you.

“Woah, Hey! I'm alive- I'm alive! Not going to hurt you.” The poor boy might as well have been shivering in his boots. His hands shook in the air. He was probably the third person you've seen, alive, since you squatted in the top floor. He didn't seem like the guy to kill you just to take your stuff. “Look, there's a guy in the tank down there. I'm just trying to help him.” You thought back to the sounds of pained neighing you heard when you first stepped onto the roof, but you had shrugged it off, figuring you were going insane already. No sleep and being isolated will do that to you. “C'mon, dude.” He was practically begging you to not shoot him in the head.

What would Daryl do in this situation? He wouldn't just trust anyone when it comes to survival. You reluctantly put your gun down, watching as he sighed in relief. You hid the shake in your hands when they fell to your sides, not wanting him to know you didn't want to kill him even if he were dangerous.

“We have to get down there to help him.” The boy leaned over the edge, at the tank and the 'geeks' that surrounded it.

“We?”

He looked back at you, then to the tank. “The extra help would be appreciated.”

Somehow, you followed after him, climbing down fire escapes and counting the amount of bodies in each alleyway. He was quick, but you kept up with him with ease.

He led you down the alleyway, hiding behind the trashcans and gate separating you and a painful death. “You have good aim? I need you to shoot that big guy closest to the tank.” He whispered, fixing the hat on his head.

You glanced at him, watching as he awaited your next move. You whispered back, “it's empty.” You held the gun up in emphasis. You weren't going to tell him that when it was pointed at him. He huffed, throwing his head back. “I only have a knife.”

He shrugged off his backpack, grabbing the empty gun and throwing it in there. It was useless with no bullets, and it only took up a hand, making it harder for you to climb.

“Alright, change of plans.” He grabbed the walkie, bringing it to his mouth before pressing the button. “Hey, you alive in there?”

A frantic voice broke through the static, “Hello? Hello?!”

The next thing you knew, you were running downstairs with the young boy, Glenn, you had figured out, and the guy you nearly died saving, Rick. Glenn led you two to another alleyway, before the door to the building in front of you busted open, 2 people filing out with gear and helmets on, attacking the walkers wondering in front of you.

“Lets go!” Glenn jumped over the bodies on the ground, running through the door, you and Rick following. As soon as you were through the door, you were pushed to the other side of the wall, before Rick was pushed back, a gun aimed at his face. “You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you.” A blonde woman was seething, ready to put a bullet in Rick's head.

“Just chill out, Andrea. Back off.” One of the guys who bashed the walker's head in pulled off the armor, glaring at the blonde.

“Come on, ease up.”

“Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole.” The gun was pointed at you next, “And her.” Her finger twitched on the trigger, but you were at a loss of words.

“She helped.” Glenn was ignored.

“Andrea, I said, back the hell off. Or pull the trigger.” The same guy from before stepped forward, closer to Andrea. It was silent for a second, before Andrea dropped her hand, lips quivering with oncoming tears. You took a breath, having the room to do so when a gun isn't pointed at you.

“We're dead,” Andrea sobbed, “All of us.” Her gaze moved back to Rick, “Because of you.”

You wondered after everyone as they walked through the old building, listening as they scolded rick for firing his gun.

“No signal. Maybe the roof.” The man, who was introduced as T-Dog, said, holding the walkie. Before anyone else could reply, a gun shot fired, echoing from above.

“Oh no, Is that Dixon?”

“Dixon?”

Andrea stopped her movement, looking back at you. “Yeah. What, you know 'em?”

Sadly, you were met with a distasteful Merle on the roof. He refused to tell you about Daryl-about how Merle had to drag in out of the house. About how Daryl wanted to pick you up and take you with them. About how Daryl had gone back, against Merle's wishes, and found you nowhere in the house. But you weren't told that, so the nerves in your stomach still fluttered, making you feel like you were going to vomit any minute. The only thing he told you was that Daryl was with the rest of the group by the quarry.

The nerves still fluttered even on your way to the said quarry. The thought of Merle being trapped in the roof was at the back of your mind, the thought of seeing Daryl for the first time in God knows how long, being front and center in your mind. Your leg shook with nerves as you sat in the back of the van, hitting a bump every once in a while, and knocking into one of the other people.

The van pulled up to the quarry, people piling out of the back, running to their families.

You were introduced to a woman named Carol. She was surprised when you told her that you knew Daryl. The short time she had known the man, she couldn't think of him having a soft spot for anyone, but here you were. She told you that he had gone hunting and that he should be back before dawn.

You sat around, getting to know everyone. As soon as Carol's husband raised his voice to her, you had kept an eye on him, instantly feeling protective of the woman. As she silently did for you. She kept an eye on you, making sure you felt comfortable among all of the strangers.

Night fell and there was still no sign of Daryl. You distracted yourself by helping Carol with whatever, or Dale with lookout. You hadn't told anyone much about you and Daryl. Mostly because you couldn't form a coherent sentence with Daryl on your mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn't he back? The band around your ring finger became a fidget habit. You spun it around any time the thoughts got too much.

The crisp morning air did little to wake you. You might as well have been a walker with how you sluggishly moved around camp, helping with anything, wanted to be helpful and pull your weight.

Carol handed you another pair of soaked pants, to ring the water out and hang it up to dry. While doing so, your eyes caught sight of Rick and Lori. They had been reunited. When was it your turn?

“How did you and Daryl meet?” Glancing back up at Carol, you cleared your throat to speak.

Before you could utter a word, a scream echoed throughout the camp, followed by Carl's screams for his mother.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, a few running toward the screaming, ready for the worst.

You walked behind the group, watching as Rick, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and a few others beat the walker that had made it from the city.

Dale swung down with his axe, cutting the head clean off the walker's body.

“It's the first one we've had up here.” He heaved, “They never come this far up the mountain.”

“Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what.” Another guy, Jim, said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Branches snapped, followed by more footsteps. The guys with the weapons moved toward the sound, weapons ready.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Daryl stepped over branches, slightly taken aback with everyone standing in front of him, ready to strike.

Everyone took a step back, “Oh, Jesus.” Dale's shoulders released the tension.

“Son of a bitch.” Daryl cursed, “That's my deer!” He walked to what was left of the poor animal.

He looked how he did when you first met. Frustration clear on his brow. You had helped him get rid of the constant scrunch of his brow and frown on his lips, and here it was, making its appearance in a dramatic manner.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this-” He kicked the headless body that laid on the ground, “filthy,” kick “disease-bearing,” kick “motherless,” kick “poxy bastard!”

“Calm down, son. That's not helping.” Dale peeped, infuriating Daryl more.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl walked closer, getting in Dale's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to “On Golden Pond”?"

“Daryl.”

Daryl paused, his face dropping. He turned to the voice, his knees nearly collapsing from underneath him.

Before you could say anything else, his crossbow was dropping to the ground, followed by the string of squirrels on his shoulder. He rushed over, his body colliding with yours. His calloused hands pulled your face closer to his.

He didn't care if everyone was watching. Or if the scene made them think differently about his tough-guy thing he had going on. His lips moved against yours.

“I didn't know where you were.” He mumbled against your lips. “I tried looking everywhere-”

“I know, I know. Doesn't matter.”

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

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sundrop-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Need

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)

Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.

Word Count: 3,000

The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?

A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.

...

Need.

That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude.

Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy.

Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ‘relationship’ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as ‘needy’. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack.

It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadn’t lost yet, not once.

Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact.

That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old warden’s office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony.

He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didn’t care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a warden’s desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you.

And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the warden’s desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep ‘in a cage’ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didn’t know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didn’t have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made.

And you were glad that you didn’t have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations.

But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldn’t have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient.

You couldn’t deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadn’t been able to crack him for months.

“Daryl, what’s gotten into-?”

You couldn’t even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle.

You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didn’t hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips.

He was never like this. He was never so desperate.

You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds.

“Daryl!” You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on.

Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy.

Hungry.

That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.

He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill.

Currently, that’s exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it.

It felt utterly amazing.

It felt like where you belonged.

The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs.

He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you.

You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you.

All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy -

Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely.

“Stop squirmin’.” He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver.

You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you.

“Daryl, please-”

“Shut up.”

Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter.

You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again.

He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit.

Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him.

Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didn’t have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you.

Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob.

“Listen, woman.”

He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him.

“This is mine.” He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch.

“Yours.” You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. “Yours, all yours. Daryl-”

Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting.

You weren’t sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane.

Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb.

But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to.

“Daryl! Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m - ah!”

He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste.

You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldn’t contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin.

“Daryl-?”

You didn’t have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper.

Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You weren’t the biggest fan of the ‘bent in half like a pretzel’ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip).

He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to.

And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement.

Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good.

“Dar-”

“All fuckin’ day.” Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you.

He wasn’t quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full.

“All fuckin’ day, I had to listen to Zach’s goddamn yappin’.”

Your brain was slowly coming back into function.

He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha.

You thought Daryl liked Zach?

Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you.

“Had to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckin’ asshole-”

Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground.

“Had to listen to him go on and on about you.”

What?

Then went the other shoe.

Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Daryl’s deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths.

You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you.

“What happened with Zach?” You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused.

You didn’t know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you.

Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs.

“He - would-n’t - shut - the - fuck - up.” Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. “About you.” He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear.

“Daryl-” You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again.

“About your ass-”

He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking.

“About your tits-”

He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon.

“Daryl,”

“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout what you might look like when you cum.” He growled out. “When he ain’t never gonna get to know.”

It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didn’t want to claim you in front of someone publicly.

Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his temper when they had a job to do.

“He wouldn’t stop-”

“Please, I’m yours.” You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention.

As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didn’t even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship.

“Daryl, please. I’m yours.”

“Tha’s right,” Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re mine.”

He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.

#sundrop writes #daryl twd #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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writella · 4 months ago

Text

Fuckin’ Favorite

Synopsis: Whose the fairest of them all? It’s you. It’s always been you. Negan’s prepared to let each one of his wives know just that tonight.

— or: Oh Lord, does Negan love his fuckin’ favorite wife!

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, smut— fingering, thigh riding, and penetration without protection; reader at the Sanctuary, “wife”!reader, guilty!reader because when am I not feeling guilty for wanting Negan, Negan being rude in one small part, I’m pretty sure I changed the layout of the wives quarters from the show, and a fuck load of ‘fucks’ from Negan. Mostly proofread. wc: 2.2k.

A/N: I mostly get right to it, so buckle up! And if you like this one, check out this daydream I wrote because I think it’s really cute.

—with love from writella ♡

He comes in without a knock.

The door, though brittle as it is, slams shut. The metal and leather of his jacket clink and slap as his back pounds against it. He has no care that he could break the door, or for the noise and late hour of his arrival.

This was his house. His rules.

“Good evenin’, sweetheart.”

If it wasn’t for that slight twang in his accent, or that wiley look that punctuates the end of his sentences, making everything he says just as comical as unsettling, it would have sounded more like a, Hello, Clarice— nonetheless, you still hold your breath.

“It’s half past ten,” you decide to say, looking down, making sure you don’t sound too sarcastic or displeased with his appearance. It’s just that you hated it when he came to your room, especially when all the other girls were right outside in the common room or in their bedrooms that neighbored yours. You much rather go to his room if you have to. It’s quiet and separate from the rest of the habitants of the Sanctuary. He could be as loud as he wanted— even though he always was anyway— but that would mostly be for you— so you didn’t have to feel so ashamed.

“Well would you prefer a Hey, sexy. Strip down. Ass up. then? Just get right to it?” You say nothing. “Cause I could.” Negan tilts his head sideways with a slight grin, his forehead protruding forward as he tries to find your eyes. All he sees is cheeks starting to flush, an embarrassed shake of your head, and eyes that stay stuck on your black ballerina flats.

You were sitting on the rear of your bed, only looking up sometimes. Recently, you were trying to get better with eye contact. You wanted to show that you’re not afraid of him anymore. It was supposed to be a silent statement that he wasn’t fooling you and that you weren’t softening up to him. That you know what this is, who he is; you’re cognizant of what he does to you, to the others girls, to people outside these walls. But, this didn’t work. No matter if you were looking down or up, you could never seem to get rid of that deer in the headlights look— The Roadkill Stare or The Corpse’s Bride as Negan called it— wide and bewildered, like he was going to run you over. Sometimes it made him feel sad. That there were moments where he could see you trying to resist your natural instinct to flinch when he comes near. But other times, it made him feel powerful. Not the fact that he scared you, but that he could see what was underneath it— that you were scared of yourself. He knows you like him. He knows from the way your face slightly twists as you suppress your snickers and smiles at his jokes when you two are alone, or when he makes fun of Simon for yet another one of his bad attempts at acting like him; when you think you’re doing well at maintaining that timid Tim Burton eyed version of a poker face. He knows you’re not completely scared of him, at least not anymore. Little by little, he’s learning to clock the nuances of your expressions: he sees how your eyes trail his body when he undresses in front of you, or the way you follow him as he walks to talk to this person or that, how you’re acutely aware of when and how he moves, your eyes flickering towards his hands before he gestures with them. It’s like you know too. As if you see his underneath the way he can for you. You’re becoming as familiar as he is.

He’s aware.

You can’t fool him any longer.

“Get up for me.” It’s a soft command said in his darkened voice. On instinct, you oblige. This is how it is. He walks closer, his fingertips lightly brushing slowly down your shoulder until he reaches your waist. He grabs you quick and close on both sides, pulling you straight against him. You gasp, arms swinging back slightly, back arching against him as he presses you on his lower abdomen and groin. You can feel his breath, and the heat of his intense gaze. “Kiss me.”

Your mouth is agape. Your breath shudders. You’re frozen.

You do nothing.

There you go again, his little fawn bride. If eyes could be any more rounder, symmetrical spheres, they’re yours. He could laugh but he doesn’t. He only repeats himself. Quietly, sternly, “You kiss me first this time.”

You had never done that before.

“Do I gotta say it a third?”

You shake your head. No.

Hesitantly, you reach up, touching his face with ghostlike fingertips, feeling the bristles of his beard as you bring yourself closer. Your lips are light and tentative as you finally press yours on his. For him, it was like being kissed by an angel. It makes him soften up for a moment, tilt your head up higher for you to give you more leverage. He kisses you just as sweetly. His thumb strokes your jaw.

After a few more kisses, you pull back to look at him. You hold his shoulders and he holds you by your waist. Your faces are so close, his eyes could almost be as wide as yours, and for a moment, it all feels so soft and dream-like. But quickly, the iridescence fades: before you realize it, he puts his tongue in your mouth forcefully, making your head roll back. The unexpected shift makes you gasp into his mouth.

He turns you around, slams you again your door. Your tall bureau near it bangs against the wall with you. Some of your folded clothes you had yet to put away and jewelry falls off the top as your head bounces.

Negan’s left hand runs down your body, sliding two fingers down under your dress and over your panties, pressing in at your slit. He finds wetness forming. His fingers make it more pronounced as he creates a wet spot.

“Tell me you want me,” he says as he starts to rub your clit.

You take a shaky breath inwards, covering a small moan.

Negan’s fingers slide inside your underwear and down right into your hole. He pumps slowly three times, never losing eye contact with you and then he takes them out. “Cause I want you,” and he proves it by putting the two fingers in his mouth and licking them clean, wiping his lips afterwards with his tongue. “Tell me you do too.”

Your breath remains heavy. Finally, you whisper, “I want you.”

He spins you around again. His back against the door once more, producing another slam you know all the girls will hear. He raises one of his legs and slots his thigh in between yours. His hands rest on your hips, rocking you against him. It feels good. Your thin cotton panties and bare thighs brushing and rocking against his that are rough and denim clad. You try to resist the urge to make any sounds because of how much you like it. “Tell me you need me.”

This makes you whine. “Can we—” you start to ask— and you can’t believe you’re even going to say it— “Can we just go to your room? Please?” Oh God, what would everyone at Alexandria think? They’d be so disappointed. They’d hate you. The wives have never been mean, they accepted you, understood your condition more than anyone else, but where you only had very educated guesses of what everyone at home would think of you, you had a stone hard fact of how the other girls were starting to see you. Their eyes could not lie as much as yours: you felt women’s growing glares of silent resentment whenever you were seen with Negan. He was more forgiving with you; never got too nasty about your habit of not speaking when you’re spoke to; he was gentle with his touch when others were watching; never made you hang out with any of the other men if you didn’t want to; and he talked to you, communicated more. They saw it. They knew it. They figured you were more in the know about things outside the Sancutary than they were. You tried to use it to keep them informed as well, as a way to preserve what little favor you had left, but now look at you, ruining it all as they’re forced to listen. Not only submitting to whatever he may do to you, but asking to change the location before it begins.

“No. You get me here or not at all.” You knew he wasn’t lying. His voice was stern. He looked you in the eye even if you weren’t looking back, you felt it. It told you that he wouldn’t budge, not even a little. “And you can sleep in those panties if that’s the case.”

You stay silent for a moment. Eyes peering into his wishing just your look could say it all. “Negan…” you whisper.

“Yes, baby?”

“I- I need you.”

In an instant, Negan pushes you off of him. His hands go to the ends of your dress and pull it off of you with your arms and hair flying.

“Take it off,” he demands after he throws you down on your bed.

You feet kick off your flats and you raise your hips to discard your panties, never losing sight of him as he rips off his jacket, unbuckles his belt, and crosses his arms to get rid of his shirt. You loved the look of his years-faded tattoos against his tan skin and the curves of his light muscles when he raises his arms.

You’re in a trance, not seeing that he sees that you’re doing it again. Bambi eyes trailing him down. It’s every time you guys do this. And fuck, you must think he’s sexy. He loves it. Because he knows he’s fucking sexy. He knows that pretty girls like you will always come around. You just can’t help it. His grin is as wide as your eyes because of it.

Negan is hard and he wastes no time. He’s been thinking about claiming you all day. He hooks his hands under your knees as you lay with your back flat on the bed.

Negan lines himself against you and immediately starts to piston himself inside of you, never completely pulling out. Your breast shake as his thrusts keep pushing you back. You felt like you were vibrating.

He is obsessed with this angle. Getting to see your face scrunch and twist and contort. Getting to hear your heavy pants and sighs. Getting to feel the squeeze of your pussy and he continues to push inside you fast, fast, fast.

And he’s mesmerized by your breast. The continuous bounce of your perky tits that were now his. He wants his mouth on them, he wants his dick between them, but for now he’ll just watch them jump and spring— it’s just as sexy to him. He might even have to cancel all of tomorrow's plans just to watch them fly all day like this.

Your head turns to your left side and you catch yourself in your full length mirror— the view is from head to the top of your waist. You see your left tit bouncing along with your head and stomach as Negan keeps pushing into it with no relent. Instantly you moan at the sight. Your hand swings to your face right after, your eyes closing shut.

Negan rips your fingers from off your mouth. “No,” he warns. “I know you like it—” you whine when he says that— “Stop hiding it. Look at yourself or I’ll stop.”

You don’t open them.

He stops.

“You gonna fuckin’ listen?”

Slowly, you ynclose your scrunched eyes, seeing yourself and your parted lips again.

“Good girl.” And then, Negan starts splitting you open again, making you shake. The sudden movement makes you moan, “oh- uh.”

“Tell me you want it.”

You don’t resist anymore. You continue to look at yourself in the mirror as you say, “I want it.”

“Tell me you need it.”

Your head turns to watch where your body connects with his. “Ohmygod, I need it.”

He growls as he follows your gaze, voice strained and rough like he’s going to punch something as he repeats, thrusting faster, “Tell me you fucking need it.”

“I need it.” Then you moan, “Negan, please!” You chant, “Please. Please, Negan, I need it!”

“You need it, baby?” He jeers. “You want me to give it to ya?”

You nod as you whine, tears almost coming out. Your breasts still bounce for him and you love it as much as you hate it. “Yes, Negan.”

“You know what I came in here to do, baby?”

You’re still whining, you're practically incoherent. His little fuck doll. All you can say is his name.

“Look at me when I tell you.”

Your eyes go up to his. Watching him as he continues to pump into you. You see how his body vigorously shakes in unison with yours. His skin and his pushing up and down, in and out, as he makes your body jump.

“I came in here,” he starts, losing his breath and trying not to falter from his thrusts as his face places itself above yours, “To show every single bitch in the goddamn house that you’re mine. And that you’re the only fuckin’ one.” You respond with only sex-filled sounds. You’re close to exploding. Your body still jumps along with his. Your bouncing breasts rubbing against his pex as he commands, “Tell me you want me to do it. You want me to make you come.”

As always, though this time it was because you were on the verge of losing all control, you give no answer.

His words bite at your parted lips as he repeats, “Tell me!” And he slaps the side of your ass.

The pang forces you to speak: “I want you to do it Negan please!”

Negan rises. His mouth circles as he moans. He holds your hips now, raising them off the bed as he pumps into your harder. “Say it again.”

“Do it, Negan, please. Please make me come.” With each word ending in moaning pants as you repeats, “Please- Please- Please- Please- Please-”

“Oh fuck,” his gutteral voice rasps and roars for all to hear. Your absolute submission brings him closer to the edge. He smiles widely knowing he’s about to come so hard in that tiny pussy of yours. “OH FUCKIN LORD,” he laughs, knowing he has the whole floor’s attention, not caring a single bit how any of it sounds. “GOD DAMN. THAT’S FUCKIN RIGHT. IM GONNA MAKE MY PRETTY LITTLE FUCKIN WIFE FUCKIN COME BECAUSE SHE’S- MY FUCKIN’- FAVORITE.”

#negan smith smut #negan smith x reader smut #negan smith x reader #negan smith x y/n #negan smith x you #negan smith imagine #negan smith fanfiction #negan smut #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x y/n #twd fanfiction #twd smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #twd fanfic #negan smith

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heathermason6060 · 5 months ago

Text

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex

Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut.

Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao

You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either.

On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry.

You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women.

He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.

You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.

He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him.

Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question.

“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.

He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before.

He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you.

“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?”

“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group.

“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends.

“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.”

He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened.

Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker.

Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay.

“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly.

“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire.

The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways.

You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.

“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”

Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry)

The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line.

“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”

“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.”

It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you.

You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease.

You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle.

“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets.

He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane.

“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp.

Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown branches from the larger trees.

“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.”

You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy.

“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?”

“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list.

“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend.

“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you.

“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly.

“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.”

“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”

You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long.

You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl.

He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle.

Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on.

“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows.

Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils.

You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this.

Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it.

He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes.

You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips.

“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down.

He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it.

“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way.

Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak.

You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth.

He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt.

You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there.

He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made.

You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right.

“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction.

“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs.

When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic.

“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.

He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs.

You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed.

Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you.

He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around.

You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped.

“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up.

Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed.

“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you.

He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie.

You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths.

He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees.

The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you.

“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you.

What Daryl didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.”

He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow.

Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips.

You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time.

His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making.

“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth.

His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin.

He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet.

“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.”

He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder.

The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.

“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you.

“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist.

“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete.

“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his.

The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it.

You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.

Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.

Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you.

“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds.

“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.”

He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted.

“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit.

“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”

You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement.

The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again.

Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions.

“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies.

It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp.

Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck.

And his fly was still down.

“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.

“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.”

“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face.

“Hey.”

“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already.

“Think she’ll give me a ride?”

“Shut the hell up, man.”

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thewalkingdilf · 5 months ago

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can we all just agree that daryl would definitely love to smoke a cigarette while you ride his thigh.

his sex drive hasn’t always been able to compare to yours, and him being a decent bit older than you definitely doesn’t help, but he could never deny a little angel like you the pleasure that you craved so badly.

so there you were, propping yourself up in his lap excitedly, getting yourself settled in the perfect position on his denim-clad thigh, with help from daryl’s strong arms keeping you steady while you adjusted yourself, of course.

the cigarette not only helped him relax in his own way, just as you were relaxing by making a mess of his strong thigh- it also served as a way for him to stall, to test your patience, a sort of timer if you will.

you’d rut yourself against him, whining and blubbering about how bad you needed him, meanwhile he’d continue to sit back in his chair, gripping your waist with one hand while the other would be raised toward his mouth, taking a long, deep draw from the cigarette, gently blowing the smoke toward you.

occasionally, if he was in an extra good mood that day, he’d flip his cigarette around in his fingers, resting it between your lips for you to take a couple puffs as well. he was typically against you smoking; he didn’t want someone like you falling into such a bad habit like him, but he couldn’t deny how much he loved to see you like that in the moment; fucking yourself against him so desperately while you blow the smoke in his face, the small nicotine buzz making you feel a bit lightheaded and dizzy, adding to your overwhelming pleasure.

“don’t worry baby, i’ll make you feel good, just lemme finish my smoke, yeah? you can be patient and do that for me, can’t ya’?”

“daryl, please.”

“not yet baby, yer being so good f’ me, i know you can wait a lil’ longer.”

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mystic-writings · 5 months ago

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we’re just fine | daryl dixon

PAIRING — Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

SUMMARY — after the fall of the prison, you find yourself in alexandria, alone. two months later, your family finds their way back to you.

WARNINGS — angst, canon-typical violence/situations, pregnancy, fluff

WORD COUNT — 5,000

NOTES — idk what happened to me all i know is i blacked out and then this was made. enjoy i guess

masterlist | navigation | requests are open!

Despite the pure monotonous routine you’d gotten used to during your two months in Alexandria, you couldn’t say that it wasn’t sometimes extremely boring. Your only saving grace was the mealtimes you had with Aaron and Eric at the end of the day. At least they had the sense and experience outside the walls to be able to carry out a conversation that wasn’t about what food you were eating or how the weather was.

It was why you hated when they went out on recruitment runs. As their roommate, you felt awkward being in the home by yourself when they left the walls; as though you were intruding. You felt that way in a lot of aspects. An intruder on a perfect life that these people had grown used to in the wake of the apocalypse. A life where their only worry was whether or not Aiden and Nicholas would find the right ingredients for the food they’d planned on cooking during their supply runs.

But there was nothing to be done aside from making a meal for one, eating alone with only a soft classical music CD to fill the silence, and to wait for the couple to come back home so you would have normal people to talk to.

You were glad for them and the runs they went on, though. Or they never would’ve found you, and you’d likely be dead in a ditch by now.

Your hand shook as you gripped the handle of your blade, wide eyes searching the pharmacy for any signs of walkers, or people. Being on the road alone for as long as you had been was making you feel like you’d gone crazy. Maybe you had already.

Sweeping the small aisles, you found no signs of life. Most of the shelves were already empty, likely having been raided during the early days. Still, you grabbed whatever was available to you, shoving it into your bag before ducking into a corner, knees pressed to your chest as you rooted around for one of the final few cans of food you had left.

You’d been rationing out what used to be a plentiful supply for a few weeks now. One can of food per day, nothing more. A lot of what you had was thanks to the traffic blockages on the highways and interstates you’d wandered along on your way out of Georgia. What used to be two cans a day for almost three weeks turned into one for the past week and a half, bordering on two.

The lack of food wasn’t your only issue anymore. With no signs of life from your former group, you had every reason to believe that they were all dead. Logically, you knew they weren’t. You’d seen some of them escape in the firefight, yourself included. But without any real way of tracking them down, they were as good as dead. Not to mention the sudden and constant fatigue that the southern sun seemed to give to you, making traveling more difficult than you had originally planned.

Even with no end in sight, no real indicator that the man you called your husband was still alive, and no true hope for your future, you still persisted. You found places to sleep for the night, whether in abandoned cars or gas stations off of turnpikes. You found just enough food to supply you for a few more days if you managed to stretch it thin enough, and you kept going.

Just as you were about to crack open a can of corn, the crunching of glass and shuffling of footsteps alerted you to the body that had just entered the pharmacy. Its footfalls sounded too heavy and spaced out to be anything but a human.

Gripping onto your knife, you held your breath and gently placed the can on the floor. With your bag still on your shoulders, you kept your body crouched and your ears peeled, moving around the person — no, people — moving around the pharmacy.

“I’m telling you, we’ve already been here. There’s nothing left to take,” a voice reasoned.

The footsteps ceased for a moment, and you paused, praying they hadn’t heard you. “I know. Doesn’t hurt to check, though, right? I mean, we can’t exactly go back empty handed. Aiden’ll have something to say about it.”

“But we aren’t out here for supplies,” the other stressed, “we’re out here for people, remember? New members?”

“I know,” their partner chuckled, footsteps resuming as they rounded the last aisle. You ducked between the shelves closest to the door, hoping to just outrun them and not have to fight them. There was a pause, a palpable beat, before he spoke again. “But I think we might not be coming back alone.”

A cold chill ran through your veins at the former’s words. He knew you were in here. He’d seen your can of food, or heard your shuffling around the pharmacy. In an instant, you were at your full height, eyes wide as your fingers clutched your knife tighter and you ran, against your better judgment, toward the pair. The blond was the one closest to you, his back facing your front. With as much energy as you could muster, you hooked your arm over his shoulder, dragging him to your chest as you pressed your knife to his throat. It wasn’t hard enough to do any real damage, but you knew that if you absolutely had to, you’d apply pressure.

“Who are you?” You spat, hand shaking as it gripped the knife. “What do you want?”

“Woah, woah, calm down. It’s okay. We’re not here to hurt you.” The brunet immediately jumped into negotiation mode, putting his hands in front of him. The position reminded you of Rick, oddly enough, and your heart twinged as you adjusted your grip on the knife.

“Then what are you here for?” You spat. “Like you said, there’s nothing worth taking here.”

The faintest of whimpers escaped the lips of the man you held hostage, dragging both yours and the brunet’s attention to him. “We’re just—” the blond gulped. “We’re recruiters. We have a camp not too far from here. A safe one. We’re looking for people to join us. People who have— have experience, out here.”

His words, as stuttery and fearful as they were, confused you.

“I’m Aaron,” the brunet said, keeping his arms up in surrender as he slowly slid the backpack from his shoulders. “That man you have is my partner, Eric. Everything he’s saying is right, and I can show you. I have pictures and a brochure in my bag, if you’ll let me get it.”

Hesitantly, you nodded. Even if he had a weapon, most of your body was blocked by his partner — Eric. There was a highly likely chance that he wouldn’t try to harm you while you kept his friend in your grip, however weak it was becoming.

Slowly, Aaron reached into his bag, pulling out exactly what he said he would. With Eric still in your grip, he showed you pictures of the place he and his friend called home — Alexandria. “Look,” Aaron sighed, stepping back a bit. “You seem like someone we could use. You have experience that we lack. Plus, it seems like you’ve been out here by yourself a while. We have walls, food, running water, and proper shelter. And if you decide to come with us, our leader, Deanna, will interview you. If she allows you in and you don’t like it, you can leave any time you want. We won’t keep you there if you don’t want to be, okay?”

With a shaking nod, you let go of Eric, nudging him toward Aaron, who enveloped the other man in a tight hug. “I— I can leave if I want to, right?”

“Of course, you can. No one will stop you, and that’s a promise.”

It took a bit of getting used to, but you were glad that Aaron and Eric had found you that day. You’d been skeptical of things in Alexandria for the first few days, but you warmed to the entire situation a lot easier than you thought you would. You supposed it was because of how things were at the prison, but even then you weren’t alone.

Aaron and Eric, while not pushing the topic often, had managed to get to know enough about you and where you came from before they’d found you that they considered you a close friend.

You’d only told them the briefest of answers. That you were with a large group in Georgia from the beginning, that you’d been with one of them for most of that time — even, at some point, considering yourselves to be married, though the symbol you’d had to show it had been lost months ago — and then another group came along and took everything away from you, simply because they could.

The safety and privacy that the couple provided was something you were more than grateful for, even if you were sure you wouldn’t be able to have it forever.

Because while Aaron and Eric, along with the rest of Alexandria, provided a structure and a sense of normalcy for you, you couldn’t shake the grief that fell upon you every time you were alone.

The thought of Daryl being out there, combing every inch of Georgia for you while you were so far away, was enough to bring you to tears. It was another thing to think about the possibility of his rotting corpse roaming the woods in search of something living to eat. The thought that you’d never see him again, dead or alive. That you’d just push through life — however much longer that would be for you — without him, even though he promised you’d never have to go through something like that.

The thought of your baby never knowing who their father was, and their father never knowing who they were, either.

You could go an entire lifetime without ever seeing Daryl again, and the idea of it nearly killed you when he was still around. It hurt a hundred times worse now that it was practically a reality.

The night passed without word from or the arrival of Aaron and Eric. It was common for them to be gone a while at a time — this particular trip lasting almost a week — but you hated sleeping in the house by yourself now. You were so used to waking up to Eric clattering dishes in the kitchen that waking up midday when they were gone only proved how fatigued you seemed to feel nowadays.

Waking up to a knock on the door wasn’t unusual as of late, but it was certainly unpleasant. You were, however, grateful for the fact that when you were given a room at Aaron and Eric’s, it was on the first floor.

Rolling out of bed got harder and harder with each passing week, but you managed it anyway. The knocking persisted, and you sighed as you made your way into the living room, shouting out, “I’m coming!”

The knocking ceased, and you pulled on the fabric of your shirt before answering the door, only to find Jessie. “Oh, hey,”

“Hi, hon,” she smiled, and you felt bad for being upset at her moments before. “Pete sent me over, said you were supposed to see him this morning?”

“Oh, shit, Jessie I’m so sorry,” you said, brushing some stray hair from your face. “I overslept, normally Aaron—”

Jessie smiled warmly, reaching out and putting a gentle hand on your arm. “I understand, Y/n, no need to worry. Just get dressed and head over to the infirmary. It’s not like Pete’s in any real rush.”

“Alright,” you nodded, bidding Jessie goodbye and closing the door as she headed down the porch steps.

Padding your way through the home, you went back to your room, pulling on some fresh clothes before freshening up in the bathroom. Routines like these were simple, but they kept you sane. You’d had something a little closer to it at the prison, but it was nowhere near as nice as it was in Alexandria.

After eating a small breakfast, you were out of the house and on your way to the infirmary. The streets were quiet, as always, and the sun was anything but forgiving. People smiled and waved, and you did the same, even if you didn’t know half of the people in this place. Even after being here for two months, it was hard to remember such trivial things about so many people. Plus, putting names to faces was never one of your strong suits.

Stepping into the infirmary, you were grateful for the burst of air conditioning that fell over your body. Smiling, you greeted Denise and Pete, the former of the two sitting on one of the beds as she pored over the book in her lap.

“Alright, let’s take a look at you. Sound good?” Pete smiled, and you nodded back.

While you hauled yourself onto the bed, Pete readied the ultrasound equipment. Pulling back the loose shirt you wore, your eyes glued themselves to the obvious, albeit still small, bump you were sporting.

“Hey, I’m about four months along now, right?” You asked, eyes darting up to Pete, who confirmed with a nod. “That means you can see the baby’s gender, doesn’t it? I remember hearing that somewhere,”

Pete chuckled, powering on the machine and taking the gel from its holster. “Most of the time, yes. If you want me to look around for it, I can do that. After I make sure everything’s okay.”

“I really wanna know,” you said, wincing at the cold gel making contact with your skin. “It’d mean a lot. Then I can go full nesting mode. And so can Aaron and Eric, really.”

The ultrasound went off without a hitch. According to Pete, your margins were clear, and everything looked healthy with the baby. It was always a relief to hear. There was little room for error with these things now that you had scarcely little supplies to work with. Finding the ultrasound machine early on in the apocalypse was a miracle in itself.

“Okay…” Pete hummed, the wand moving and pressing over your skin. “The kid’s giving me a hard time with this one. And…” he pressed a few buttons, eyes focused on the screen before him. You watched his features intensely, as though his expression would give the answer away before he could say it. Pete’s eyes broke from the screen as he smiled, lifting the wand. “You’re having a little girl. Congratulations.”

Your heart swelled, a wide smile overtaking your features as Pete handed you a towel. “A girl,” you whispered, eyes locked onto your belly.

Before you were able to stop yourself, you were once more reminded of the likelihood that you’d never be able to share this with Daryl. Tears welled along your waterline as you sat up, swiping the scratchy cloth across your belly. Whether Pete noticed or not, he made no indications. You were thankful for it, and for him leaving the room to put the ultrasound equipment away.

When he came back inside, he pulled Denise from her books and into the kitchen to talk, but you paid no mind to them. They were talking too low for you to listen in, anyway, and you were too busy trying to quell your emotions on the makeshift examination table to want to eavesdrop.

By the time you were ready to leave, Olivia entered the infirmary, eyes scanning the room before landing on your frame.

“Y/n, they’re on their way back,” she smiled, and you nodded gratefully.

“They’re okay?”

The woman nodded. “Eric’s a bit banged up, hurt his leg I think, but otherwise they’re fine. And they brought a group. They should be getting here soon.”

Exhaling a relieved breath, you slid from the bed, bidding goodbye to Denise and Pete as you followed Olivia onto the street. You walked side by side in silence, mulling over what she’d said.

“You said they brought a group?” You asked, following Olivia up the steps to the house that held all of your inventory. “How many?”

Olivia huffed, brows cinching. “Deanna said it was a big one. That they had a lot of weapons, been on the road a while.”

Your eyes widened. “A while as in the entire time, or?”

“Not sure,” Olivia shook her head. “All I know is I gotta get the weapons cart to the gate, if you wanna help?”

“Sure. Should probably be there to get Eric to the infirmary, anyway,” you decided.

And, sure enough, Aaron helping a limping, sweating Eric through the gate was the first — and for now, only — glimpses of the new group you would get. Aaron smiled apologetically as he spotted you, tucked out of view from the newcomers.

“What the hell happened to you?” You said, looking pointedly at Eric, who grimaced as you took his arm from Aaron.

“Roamers,” he sighed. “It’s broken, I think.”

“You think?” You asked, eyeing the bruising flesh. “I can tell it’s broken. Come on, let’s get you to Pete.”

Aaron thanked you as you wrapped an arm around Eric’s waist, helping him up the road and back into the infirmary.

As Pete worked to wrap Eric’s ankle, you couldn’t help but ask questions about the trip.

“It was a disaster,” Eric groaned. “There were roamers everywhere. Plus, this group, they’re headstrong. Been out there a while.”

“How many of them are there?” You asked. “Olivia didn’t tell me.”

“Fifteen,” Eric hissed, squirming as Pete positioned his ankle properly.

Your eyes widened, throat going dry. “Jesus,” you huffed. “That many of them and they’re still going?”

“With a baby,”

“Oh my God,” you gasped. Your mind flashed with images of baby Judith, heart clenching. The fall of the prison meant that you never found out exactly who made it out alive, and you never dared to venture the thought of whether or not she did. “They must be some lucky sons of bitches.”

Eric laughed. “Not only are they lucky, but they’re tough. And really close. I think, once you get used to them, you’ll like them. They remind me of you when we found you.”

“So, scrappy, hungry, and tired?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Eric laughed, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“If you need me, I’m four houses down.” Aaron pointed, Rick and Carl following his line of sight. “If I’m not there, Eric or Y/n probably will be.”

Carl’s eyes snapped back to the brunet, a mixture of confusion and skepticism floating within them. “Y/n?”

Aaron’s brows furrowed at the boy. “Yeah. She’s a friend of ours, came here a few months back. Why?”

“We, uh…” Rick stepped in, a hand scratching at his beard. “We used to know someone named Y/n. that’s all.”

“Oh,” Aaron nodded, stepping away and heading back home, where you and Eric were sitting at the table, sandwiches in hand as you giggled about something he wasn’t aware of.

Upon his entrance into the kitchen, you stood excitedly and hugged the man. “Glad you’re back okay,” you said, heading back to your chair. “I heard the group you brought was tough.”

“Yeah, they are.” Aaron chuckled, still mulling over the puzzle pieces in his head. “You said you were with a big group before, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Aaron huffed, glancing at his shoes. “I brought up your name to one of the new members — just a name, nothing else — he said they used to know someone with the same name.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, limbs freezing as you were bringing the sandwich to your mouth. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to put the food back down, looking up at Aaron with shining eyes. “This man, what’d you say his name was?”

“Rick. Rick Grimes.”

If your heart had been fluttering before, it was banging like a drum in your chest now. Your stomach fluttered, your hand coming to rest on the swell of your belly, hoping to quell the anxiousness.

“Where are they?” You asked, and Aaron’s mouth only remained agape. “Aaron, where are they?”

“Down the street,” he finally said, voice cracking. “The house on the curb, the one you said you liked.”

Within moments, your food and friends were abandoned as you practically ran from the home, shooting down the porch steps and down the street. You were thankful that no one was out and about right now, or you were sure they’d think you looked crazy. You didn’t even register a person in your path until you’d already bumped into them.

“Oh! Y/n, are you alright?” Jessie asked, her hands on your shoulders as her eyes searched your wild ones.

“‘M fine, Jessie.” You muttered. “I’ve gotta go.”

You gave the woman no time to respond before you were wriggling out of her grip and hurrying down the street. Up more steps, you were greeted by the charming yellow door of the home you’d wished you lived in, knuckles rapping frantically and unyielding on the wood.

The door finally, after what felt like decades, creaked open. Your heart stopped in your chest as you took in the sight of your husband��s best friend, clean shaven and hair dripping from a recent shower.

Rick’s eyes flooded with tears as they met your own. In seconds, you were pulling him into your arms, grateful that you weren’t the only survivor of the Governor’s wrath.

You sobbed into his shoulder, gripping tightly to the clean white shirt he wore. “Rick,” you croaked, “is he—”

“He’s fine,” Rick whispered, heart breaking when your sobs worsened out of pure relief. “He’s just fine.”

When you finally found the strength to let go, Rick led you inside. “We thought you were dead,”

“There were times I wished I was,” you said, taking a seat at the edge of the couch. “I was by myself for just over a month. Found some train tracks, lost ‘em, then stuck to interstates, mostly. Got lost in the woods, found a small town, and from there, Aaron and Eric found me. I’ve been here for two months.”

Rick huffed a laugh, disbelief filling the sound. “Sounds like you had one hell of a trek.”

“I had a car, for a bit.” You shrugged. “Walkers ruined that part. I crashed it into a tree. Stuck to walking after that.”

“When did you…” Rick glanced down at your swelling belly, forcing a laugh from you.

Shrugging, you smoothed your hand over your belly. “Four-ish months ago. Didn’t find out until I got here. Been terrified ever since, really. Not knowing if Daryl was out there, if I’d see him again.”

“You’ll see him soon,” Rick assured you. “He’s talking to Deanna now.”

“And the others?” You asked. “Beth? Judith?”

“Judith is just fine,” Rick said, eyes leaving yours as he sighed. “Beth got caught out in Atlanta. A woman in a hospital killed her.”

Your stomach churned at Rick’s words, guilt crushing your lungs and bile rising in your throat. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, pressing your fingers to your mouth to try and stop yourself from throwing up.

Rick nodded, resting a hand on your knee. He watched you stand, your arm resting over your belly, beginning to pace the floor before him.

“I have to… I need to go see the others. Daryl.” And without another word, you were leaving Rick behind in an unfamiliar home, nearly running down the familiar path to where Deanna and her husband lived.

The group milled about in the small courtyard in front of Deanna’s house, hidden behind the brick walls that fenced it in. Everyone was either sitting or leaning against something, sticking to a tight group, and completely blocking your path to the inside of the home.

With your mind so set on seeing Daryl, on simply getting close to him again, you failed to register Carol saying your name. Once again, you were pulled from your thoughts only when someone was right in front of you.

This time, Carol was pulling you into her arms, her grip on your body tight. You hugged her back, despite the sweat and grime that covered her. Soon enough, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, and Sasha had joined her. You were surrounded by your family, all overwhelmed at your presence, but happy nonetheless.

When you finally requested to be let go, they obliged, and you finally spotted Judith in the arms of someone you didn’t know. Relief flooded you, seeing the baby healthy and happy as she could be.

“What happened to you?”

“We thought you were dead!”

“Are you okay?”

“Guys, I’m fine, I promise.” You chuckled through tears. “I’ve been here almost the whole time, and I’m perfectly healthy. The doctor said so this morning.”

You smiled as Carol’s eyes drifted from your face to your belly, shock overcoming her features, before her smile matched yours. She said nothing, but you were sure everyone else was either figuring it out or partially aware, just based on the interaction alone.

A loud scoff echoed from the porch door, followed by low, gravelly muttering. Your heart stopped at the familiar voice, before thrumming in your heart like a rapid drumbeat. There, walking with careless ease, picking at his thumbs, was your husband, covered head to toe in layers of dirt and grime. You choked a sob as the group seemed to part around you.

“Daryl,” you croaked, just loud enough for him to hear it.

Daryl paused at the top of the steps, his eyes locked onto yours through the hair he’d let grow too long. In a flash, he was down the stairs entirely, rushing to pull you into his arms. You met him in the middle, colliding with his body and bringing you both to the ground. With one hand cupping the back of your head and the other splayed between your shoulder blades, Daryl cradled you close to him, rocking you as you clutched to the leather vest on his back tighter, sobbing in his embrace.

“I thought ya were dead,” he whispered, fingers digging into your back. “I thought I lost ya,”

A choked sound escaped you as you shook your head. “Never,” you promised. “You could never lose me.”

“Yer necklace,” Daryl croaked, tucking his face into the side of your head. “I found it, on the tracks in Georgia. Thought ya were gone…”

“It fell.” You said, words hushed and shaking, as though they were a desperate plea. “Walkers were coming for me, too many for me to take on myself. It snapped off in the fight, I couldn’t go back for it.”

By the time you felt okay enough to stand on your own, everyone had departed from the courtyard, likely into Deanna’s home. With a vice grip on his arms, Daryl helped you stand. His eyes raked over your face, tear-stricken and flushed with emotion. No matter the state you were in, Daryl could never see you as anything other than utterly beautiful.

“You’re okay?” You asked, hands gently brushing the hair from his dirt-caked face. “You’re not hurt?”

Daryl shook his head, leaning into your delicate touch. Hands smoothed over cloth, over skin, dedicating the feeling of your body beneath his touch to memory. He watched your eyes flutter closed as he did so, relishing in the slight pressure of his palms against your skin. They slid down your hips, your waist, and Daryl’s brow furrowed. He’d committed your body to memory long ago — every curve, every bump, every scar. Slowly, and with a hand that was less steady than it had been a moment ago, Daryl’s fingers drifted delicately over your front, eliciting a small gasp when he found what he’d suspected.

The sound forced your eyes to open, meeting the bright blue of his own, widened in shock. Immediately, your stomach churned and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, a habit you’d been unable to shake since high school.

“Daryl?” Your voice shook.

“Yer…” he breathed, eyes darting down to where the backs of his fingers rested, the slight swell of your stomach confirming what he’d been about to ask. “When’d you… did you know?”

“No, no…” you whispered gently, shaking your head. “I had no clue when… I didn’t know until I got here. I suspected it on the road, but… no, I didn’t.”

A shaking breath fell from his lips. “And yer okay? Yer both— both okay?”

“We’re just fine,” you smiled, resting your palm on his cheek. “I promise. Your girls are just fine.”

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat, a new wave of pure emotion rolling through his body. It seized his muscles, freezing him in place as he struggled for breath and blinked away tears. Girls. He was going to be a dad. He was going to have a daughter.

“Ya have no idea how much I love ya,” Daryl muttered, his head dipping low, forehead resting on your shoulder.

“I think I have a clue or two,” you joked, voice as soft as you could make it.

Daryl scoffed, lifting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It was short, shorter than you would’ve liked, but it carried as much love as all the other kisses you’d shared and stolen with the archer over the years. Still, he was here, and he was safe, and so were you. Nothing else mattered except that.

The horrifying reality you’d thought yourself to be in was nothing but that — a mere thought. For now, you and Daryl were safe. Together. As a family.

And you knew that, as he slipped the necklace back onto your skin, this time on a leather rope tied tight, there was nothing either of you wouldn’t do to stay that way.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

daryl dixon taglist: @katrina765 @hp-hogwartsexpress @ellablossom @alexxavicry (open!)

taglist form here!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x pregnant!reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

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naughtyneganjdm · 2 days ago

Text

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 17

Summary: Negan gets a visit from Y/N after the fight he had with Joel and she has him make a very emotional promise to her. Joel opens up to his brother about something he kept locked away for many years.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, Tommy Miller, Lucille Smith, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/157173025 Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Smut, talks about someone wanting to hurt themselves, a character has memories about what it felt to experience both abuse and homophobia from their parent, mental trauma from a character, etc.

Notes: This chapter I just edited and finished at 430 in the morning. I'm trying to keep up with schedules, but I know I'm falling behind and I'm doing my best! This chapter has someone talking about their past and the homophobia they had to face when they were younger. Especially in terms of their family. It is emotional and it could trigger some if they have ever been in this situation. I just want to put it out there.

Overwhelmed would be an understatement for Negan right now. After everything that happened today, it was really hard to focus on one thing. Dropping his head back against the couch, Negan reached up to cover his eyes releasing a stressed exhale. He was trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing that he was feeling in his knee right now. After all the injuries that Negan had experienced from playing baseball, he knew what it felt like when he was severely injured. This was not that kind of pain, but it certainly did fucking hurt. And it hurt bad. But it was the kind of ache that he would get when he overworked his knee. Not so much the pain of a horrible injury.

To help with the pain, there was a bag of ice wrapped around his knee while he was laid stretched out on the couch. Even with his eyes closed it felt like the room was spinning around him. It was probably from a mixture of the pain along with the adrenaline that was fueling through him. There was a dull ache in his fists along with his face since he had gotten into a fight with Joel even though he tried so very hard to not let it happen.

Disappointment was flooding through his veins as well. For so long he did pretty well with handling Joel, but tonight Joel went too far and made him snap. And that was bad because Y/N was right. Joel was drunk and he had no filtering system. Fighting with Joel while he was drunk made no sense, but once Joel started spouting off about Lucille, he couldn’t contain himself.

A faint knocking drew him to drag his palms down over his face. Turning his head toward the door, Negan sighed loudly when there was a second knock alerting him that he wasn’t making up the sound in his head. Lifting his head up from the couch, Negan wondered if his knee could make the trip to the door or if it was even worth it. Forcing himself up, he pushed up onto his hands and it probably took him way too long to get up from the couch. Setting down the bag of ice, he limped over toward the door and reached for the handle. Bracing most of his weight on his good leg, Negan felt his heart sink when he opened the door to see Y/N standing before him.

“What were you thinking running off on me?” she blurt out with Negan shamefully lowering his head to avoid looking at her. Clinging to the doorknob, Negan swallowed down hard and felt a chill running through his veins. “You were hurt. I don’t even know how you got home without getting in an accident and hurting yourself further.”

“I was ashamed and figured you wouldn’t want to be around me,” Negan confessed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. There was a lot that was said today and thrown out on the table for her to deal with, so he didn’t even know where to start with things. “There was a lot thrown at you and…”

“Do you not want me here?” she interrupted Negan having his sad hazel eyes connecting with hers. Slouching, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and could see that she was worried about him. “I can leave if you don’t want me.”

“You know that I want you here,” Negan claimed, his long eyelashes fluttering. Nodding toward the inside of his rental home she waited for Negan to step aside and allow her into the house. Closing the door behind her, Negan rubbed at the back of his neck with the incredible amount of tension that was building up inside of him.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to be around you?” she wondered, noticing the bag of ice that was sitting on the couch. Turning on her heel, she looked to Negan expectantly wanting some kind of answer from him but he was at a loss of words.

“There are plenty of reasons,” he stated, taking a few steps closer to her limping as he did it. “I should have never attacked Joel. I tried so hard to keep it together, but I didn’t. He was drunk and he didn’t have a filtering system. It was wrong for me to attack him. And Joel isn’t wrong Y/N. I’m a horrible person. I did terrible things…”

“I’m surprised you held it together as long as you did,” she suggested, stepping forward to reach for Negan’s hands. Holding them, she felt them trembling with her caressing over the backs of them with her thumbs. Right now the number one thing he was feeling was shocked. Especially since her caress was so kind and gentle. More than anything he thought she would be mad at him. “And I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” he stammered, confusion flooding his features. He wasn’t too entirely sure what she was pertaining to when she said that.

“I don’t care what you used to be,” she whispered, closing the distance between the two of them. Palming in over the side of Negan’s face had him letting out a tremoring breath, his eyes coming to a slow close. Leaning into the warmth of her touch, Negan’s bottom lip was slightly trembling while she comforted him. “I don’t care what you used to be like. All I care about is who you are now. How you treat me, how you treat my children.”

“I’m not good enough for you. I know he’s right about that,” Negan confessed, his eyes still closed with him cuddling his face in against the warmth of her palm. “I realized too late the mistakes I was making in life. I should have been a good husband the whole time, but I let things get to me. I wasn’t a good man for a very long time.”

“I don’t doubt that you loved your wife. I see it in the way you talk about her,” she hushed him, lifting her other hand to cup his face in her hands tenderly. By the time he opened his eyes, she could see that tears were burning at them. “One thing you’ve never been able to do is lie to me Negan Smith. I can see right through you and when you talk about her, I see pure love. I can see the pain in your eyes when you talk about her. I know how you took off time from work to take care of her. You still wear your wedding rings on your body Negan. You fucked up, you did. But I don’t think for a second that you didn’t love her.”

A sob fell from Negan’s lips and she urged him to lower down so she could press a lingering kiss over his forehead, “I don’t doubt that by the end of her life, Lucille knew how sorry you were. She knew how much you loved her and how much she loved you.”

Leading him over toward the couch, she got him to sit down and then lowered in beside him. Sweeping her fingers over his jawline, she allowed him to rest his head against her shoulder. Brushing her fingers through Negan’s thick hair, she hushed him when he started to cry.

“It’s okay,” she comforted him, wrapping him up in her arms allowing him a moment to go through that pain that had been pent up inside of him for so long. “I know that you miss Lucille and I can’t imagine what it’s like losing someone you love that much the way that you did. But please. Promise me that no matter what happens in the future…don’t hurt yourself. Keep fighting for me…for Lucille…”

Lifting his head from her shoulder, Negan’s reddened over eyes looked miserable. Placing another kiss over his forehead, she let it linger before frowning, “I need you here. I want you in my life. So no matter what, if things ever get hard or you need to find strength, please call me. Talk to me. Open up to me. Because a universe without Negan Smith is not somewhere I want to be.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan muttered with a firm nod, his chest aching with an incredible amount of guilt that he was feeling. Only a handful of people had known about him trying to kill himself in the past, but never having the strength to do it. Now Y/N and Joel were added to that list.

“Promise me,” she pled with him, her own eyes tearing over with the thought of what Negan admitted to both her and Joel. Hell, she knew Negan was depressed and upset about losing Lucille, but she never pictured that Negan was the kind of person that would try to kill himself. Especially since Negan seemed like the type to be high on life, never wanting to lose a moment. “Promise me that you will never try to kill yourself again. Because that would break me. It would break my heart forever and I would never forgive you for it. Because I love you. Do you understand me?”

Nodding his head, Negan had a hard time forming words, but she forced him to look at her and he released a broken breath.

“I promise,” Negan exhaled, his body trembling with her sweeping his tears away. With how emotional she was getting over all of this, it broke his heart to see. But with how emotional she was about it, he knew that she genuinely cared for him. “I know I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t be having a breakdown…”

“I’d be worried about you if you weren’t,” she declared, sliding in closer to him to caress over the length of his back toward his shoulders. “You’re broken. You loved someone so deeply and you lost them. You have to talk about it. You have to feel…”

“Joel talks about how he missed out on so much, but he’s wrong. Stardom only made me worse,” Negan insisted, his fingers reaching up to curl around her wrist to caress over her pulse point with his thumb. “I would have given anything to have the life that he had with you and the children. We tried so hard to have children and we were always fighting about it. What he mentioned with me not being able to have children, it might be true. I might be broken completely…I was never brave enough to find out. She wanted me to, but…”

“If you can’t, there is nothing wrong with that Negan,” she insisted with her eyebrows furrowing and her head shaking slowly. Even the idea that Negan could possibly not be capable of having children was tearing him apart. But it wasn’t something that she thought he should be focusing on since there was already so much on his mind about things. “That doesn’t make you broken. And for all you know there is nothing wrong with you. Lucille was sick. And you don’t know for how long. It could have been a combination of things.”

“You shouldn’t be being nice or empathetic to my situation,” Negan suggested with a firm shake of his head, his jaw flexing with discomfort. After what Joel broke to her, he figured that she would never want to speak or talk to him again. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough?” she inquired with Negan’s expression growing sadder. When something like suicide was a topic of discussion, it wasn’t something you should blow off and with how emotional Negan was, she was happy that she came to him tonight. “Lucille asked you to live life for her and you promised that you would. Do you think she wanted you to continue to hurt yourself over the things you did wrong?”

“No,” Negan answered honestly, his bottom lip trembling further while she stroked over his face. There were a lot of discussions that the two of them had about the subject. Lucille was always angry with him for being so emotional. Begging him to promise to continue on with his life. To make something with the time he had left. Because she couldn’t. So if someone could, she wanted Negan to. Especially since she loved him.

“Then don’t do it,” she was doing her best to pull him from what it was that actually broke Negan tonight. “Focus on the good times you had. The moments you got to share together before she passed away. Because those are the moments that mattered. I know it hurts. More than anything you want to hug her, touch her and tell her that you love her, but she hears you Negan. Talk to her. Because she is and will always be with you.”

Placing her hand in over the center of his chest had his cries growing harder. Shakily his hand covered hers and squeezed it tightly in his grasp, “It’s so hard because we can’t hold them anymore, but they never really leave us. They are always there. She’s part of you and she always will be.”

Slouching forward, Negan’s forehead rest against hers with her stroking over the back of his neck, over his scalp and through his hair in a soothing manner, “You see so much darkness in yourself Negan and I see so much potential. So much love.”

“You always saw the best in me when no one else did,” Negan reminded her, palming his hands up and over her arms. “I think the other people were right about me. You just saw hints of something that weren’t really there.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” she whispered, refusing to allow him to sink into the thought that he was a terrible person. “Yeah, you’re a smart ass and you probably deserve to get punched sometimes, but everyone does. I’ve seen the things you do for the people you care about. You have a big heart when you allow yourself to show it. I’ve seen it many times since you came back to town. It’s there. And it shines bright.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t run into each other again,” Negan admitted, swallowing down, turning in to press a loving kiss against the center of her palm. “I love you, so fucking much.”

“And I love you,” she whispered, enjoying the warmth of him before her. It ate away at her hearing Negan break down like he had when they were all together. Those words continued to play in her head like a broken record. The idea of Negan killing himself was a horrible nightmare for her. One she never wanted to face. “I always have and I always will.”

“I’m so sorry I let what Joel did break us apart,” Negan stammered, his breathing uneven with her tenderly caressing at the side of his neck and over his face. “I knew you had a crush on him. I should have understood. I was just so young and selfish. “

“I think you’re defining me right now,” she rolled her eyes at the idea that he was the bad one in the situation. There were a lot of things that she could say about Negan, but in the past he was the biggest victim in this whole situation. “The only person that wasn’t in the wrong in that situation was you. I wish you would have told me what was going on with Joel, but…”

“But you loved him so much,” Negan spoke up before she could finish her sentence getting her to look at him fully. “If you thought there was any question about the purity of your relationship, I knew it would break your heart. That’s why I never told you. You would question everything. And you shouldn’t have. Because he looked at you with so much love whenever I saw the two of you after that night. It’s why I never did anything. It may have broken me, but it made two people that I cared about happy. Two people that deserved happiness very much. I don’t question that Joel loved you.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she admitted in terms of Joel and the things that he told her. “I feel like there is so much that I don’t know about Joel. Things that he was never honest with me about. Unlike you, I can’t tell when he’s being honest or lying to me.”

“I think Joel deserves the same opportunity that I do,” Negan explained with a loud swallow. Something in her eyes showed that she didn’t understand. “You forgave me for my past. You mention the man that I am now…Joel is right I was a worse husband than he ever was. I’m just innocent when it comes to you because I wasn’t the one that hurt you. If you can get over that part of me, you should realize that he can be different too.”

“The man devastates you and gets you angry enough to start a physical fight with him, yet you’re still defending him,” she noted, surprised that Negan would go to bat for Joel even after everything that happened. Then again, that was something that Negan seemed to be doing longer than she ever even realized.

“Because he’s broken,” Negan replied with a frown. Hearing that took her breath away. “He’s at the stage I was when I first lost Lucille. He’s hitting all the stages at once. Regret. Pain. Anger. Disbelief. Fury. Rage. They are eating away at him and he’s just lost it because he loves you, but he doesn’t know how to show it. I’m not lying to you when I tell you that I think Joel regrets everything that he did. I think if he could go back in time and stop it from happening, he would. I don’t want to lead you on and make you believe that he’s this terrible piece of shit. Because he’s not. He did shitty things, but I do fucking believe that he loves you. And that he’s a good man. Just a man that had a lot of bad shit happen in his life, so he’s bad with his feelings and his emotions.”

With a deep inhale, Negan looked down and shook his head, “I know you love him too. I can see it in the way that the two of you look at one another. And if you want to be with Joel, I don’t want to hold you back. I feel like you are experiencing guilt because you don’t want to let me down, but I love you. So fucking much that if Joel makes you happy, if Joel is where you feel whole—I love you enough to let you go.”

“I don’t want you to let me go,” she was quick to respond, hushing him when she brought him in closer to her. “I can’t lose you from my life again Negan. You have brought back a joy that I never thought would be there again. You awakened that thing inside of me that I thought was long gone. Whether we’re together or not, I need you.”

“And I need you,” Negan agreed with her nuzzling his nose in against hers in a tender moment. Cherishing the warmth of her near, Negan still felt an ache at the center of his chest. “But I don’t want Joel suffering either.”

“Nor do I,” she acknowledged knowing that there was so much love in her heart for her ex-husband still. That wasn’t something that she could hide. Joel still held part of her heart in his hand and that would never leave her. “But if making Joel feel better is kicking you out of my life, I can’t do that. I’m probably not a good person and I acknowledge that because I love the both of you. Very much.”

Meeting her stare, Negan exhaled loudly with her getting up from the couch. Turning when she applied pressure at his shoulders, Negan sat the right way on the couch. Sighing, he bit down on his bottom lip when she caressed in over the center of his chest to get him to relax. Lowering down to her knees before him, she started to caress over Negan’s hurt leg eliciting a pained sound to fall from him. Grabbing the bag of ice, she placed it over his knee with one hand while the other continued to caress over his thigh.

“I love Joel. Nothing will change that. I’m smart enough to admit that,” she confessed, her breathing growing louder with the way that Negan was looking at her behind heavy eyelids. “But I know how I feel about you. I love you so much. No one makes me feel the way that you do. Poor, happy, sad, rich…I don’t care. You mean so much to me and I can’t throw you out of my life.”

“Y/N,” he exhaled loudly with her getting up further on her knees. Setting the ice aside, she started to undo his belt. Unhooking it and pulling it apart had Negan’s breathing growing more uneven. With her fingers undoing his pants and opening them, Negan lowered his hands and grabbed her wrists to stop her. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him, urging his hands onto the couch beside him. Tugging at the material of his pants, she pulled the dark slacks from his body. Setting them aside, she took her time to caress over his thighs. It had him inhaling sharply when she lowered down over his knees to sweep over them and down to his calves. Slightly turning toward his hurt leg, she started massaging at his flesh. When her fingers swept over the scars that were over his knee area, she lowered forward to press loving kisses over his flesh. “You are so beautiful. Inside and out.”

Caressing his fingers over the back of her neck, Negan grasped at her hair and let out a pleased sound with her touching him. For a while she gave his leg a massage, working to get him to relax with it aching. Truthfully? She was one of the only people that he would trust near his leg like that.

Placing a final kiss over his knee had chills running down his spine. Getting up carefully from the ground, she took her jacket off as she kicked out of her boots. There was something that he should have said, but he couldn’t form words when she took her time to pull her sweater from her body. Once she had the material at her side, she dropped it next to where she had set his pants down.

Adjusting his positioning on the couch, Negan’s lips parted and he was ready to tell her that she didn’t need to do this. But as she started to shimmy out of her pants, it had a lump growing at the center of his throat. Almost immediately, he became breathless. His heart hammered in his chest with her reaching around herself to unhook her bra allowing the material to fall. The first sight of her bare breasts had him nervously licking his lips. Even though they had been together many times at this point, she still took his breath away. When she pushed her fingers into her panties to get them down her legs, he could feel his heart skip a beat.

Carefully lowering down to her knees over him had his hands settling in over her hips with his rough fingertips caressing over her flesh. Staring up at her in awe, Negan wondered if he truly deserved her at all.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” she apologized bringing their lips together in a passionate, unhurried sweep. Caressing at the back of her thighs, Negan kissed her back. Chills were running up and down his spine.

“No, don’t,” Negan silenced her, his eyelids heavy with desire for the woman before him. “If anything, I should be the one that is sorry. Joel was right. I should have never abandoned you and your family. I should have been here all along helping you. I loved you so much and I let something like that ruin our relationship that we had our whole life.”

“This is one time you can’t take credit,” she whispered, sliding further in over his lap having Negan tip his head back to keep his eyes hooked with hers. “I let my crush on Joel persuade me to be a certain way and I wasn’t thinking.”

“You really do deserve better than me,” Negan admitted with a frown, his rough palms caressing up over her back toward her shoulders. “I’m a broken mess and I don’t deserve the love and support that you give me.”

“I think we’re all a little broken,” she thought aloud, her fingers caressing at Negan’s scalp with her left arm hooking loosely around Negan’s shoulders. “But there is no one that makes me feel better than you do. I think you realize the person you were and you’re trying your best to make things better. For everyone.”

“I think I’m fucking up Joel,” Negan countered with a firm shake of his head, letting out a sigh. Watching her hands palm down in over the center of his chest toward his abdomen, Negan bit down on his bottom lip when she reached the bottom of the black henley that he was wearing. Raising his arms, Negan allowed her to tug the material up his body and drop it on the floor with the rest of their clothing.

“You’ve been trying to help Joel,” she corrected him with a shake of her head, her fingers teasing through the dark curls of hair over Negan’s torso. “I see it. What you did at that bar, the way you handle him. I think you’ve done a really good job.”

“We fought tonight,” he reminded her, exhaling loudly with the way her lips hovered over his. “I could have done better.”

“Joel isn’t used to my heart not belonging one hundred percent to him,” she recognized, sliding her hands up over the sides of Negan’s neck toward his face to cup it lovingly in her palms. “You were the one that kept trying to keep the truth from me. You don’t have any ulterior motives. You care about me. You care about him. You treat our children good. I like the man that you became. I like the man that you are with me.”

“I want to be the best version of myself for you,” Negan announced, his voice growing raspier when he felt her reach for the material of his black boxer briefs. Lifting his hips up, he helped her work the material down his body. Wiggling his legs, he grunted with her pushing firmly at the material working to get it to his knees. Lowering back onto the couch, Negan kicked at the material getting it to his ankles. Allowing her back in over him, he cherished the warmth of her body wrapping him up in her arms. Nuzzling his nose at the side of her neck, Negan’s hand caressed over the lengths of her back with her peppering kisses at his freckle covered shoulders.

“You are,” she assured him, pressing a faint kiss over his ear having him suck in a sharp breath. “I have no doubts when I’m with you. I know how I feel when we’re together.”

Grabbing a hold of his right arm, she led his hand toward the center of her chest allowing him to place it over her heart. Stroking her fingers at the back of his hand, she could tell just by the way that he looked at her that everything he felt was pure.

“You make me happy. I haven’t been happy in a very long time,” she told him the truth, loving the way that his eyes stared out at her. Lifting his hand up, she pressed a loving kiss over the center of it. “When I’m with you, I feel a warmth…love…”

“But I’m putting you in a hard place because I know you love Joel,” Negan commented, his other hand reaching up to trace over her features. “If I wasn’t here to mess things up, you could have everything you wanted with Joel.”

“I’m not sure Joel would be acting the way that he is if you weren’t here,” she sighed loudly, stroking her fingers through Negan’s short beard that covered his face. “You weren’t here for four years with us being divorced. So in a way, I guess you bring out both the best and the worst of Joel. I could whine that I’m in a horrible position, but I have two men that I love very much in my life right now. People can only hope to have one.”

“But what if you decide that you want to be with the other man?” Negan inquired, sucking in a sharp breath when she dropped one of her hands to curl her fingers loosely around his manhood. Tracing over his shaft had Negan’s neck flexing with his lips parting. Fluttering his eyelashes, Negan kept his eyes hooked with hers while she caressed over his length.

“Who am I with right now?” she questioned, her lips hovering in over his. Breathing both loud and uneven, Negan pressed in closer to kiss her but she kept him from kissing her. Smirking, her eyebrow arched and she was waiting for an answer. “Where am I?”

“With me,” Negan responded, dragging his bottom lip in over hers humming out with the sensations she was drawing out from inside of him.

“I could have been with either one of you right now, and you’re the one I chose to come to,” she pointed out, lifting her hips enough to lead his body toward hers. There was something in the way that his eyes hooked with hers that took her breath away. Accepting him into her body, she carefully lowered herself over him moaning with him in unison. Getting comfortable, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders pressing their bodies closer together.

“What if Joel forces you to choose?” Negan stammered, his lips hovering just over hers. Tensing up beneath her, Negan found his body easily reacting to the warmth of her surrounding him without them moving.

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” she whispered, caressing her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck. Having him fully inside of her stagnant ached, but she liked the way that it felt. “I just want to spend my time with you. Be with you. We missed out on so much time together. I don’t want to miss a moment of it.”

“I question if Joel was right,” Negan winced when she lazily rolled her hips upward, taking her time in bringing them back down over him. Every movement was slow, drawn out, and was focusing on their connection. “Maybe the only way for us to truly be happy was to separate us during those years. We would have been hurting both Joel and Lucille. There is something between the two of us that is so strong. I don’t doubt that the two of us would have done something that we regretted if we were still around one another.”

Resting her forehead against his, she cried out at the way that Negan touched her while she moved over him. So much focus and care went into the way that he was with her, “Maybe that makes us bad people.”

“Joel can say whatever he wants to defend his thought process, but that’s not how things worked themselves out,” she silenced Negan, finally bringing their lips together to give him a passionate kiss that had him cupping her face in his hands. Moving ever so slightly back had their lips still brushing against each other’s while she spoke. “So we can talk about the maybes all day long, but that’s not how things were. So we’re not bad people for loving one another.”

“Now that I have you in my life, I can’t lose you,” Negan asserted, his palm sliding up over the center of her chest toward her neck. Curling his fingers around the side of her neck, his thumb traced over her jawline until hovering over her bottom lip. It had her kissing at his flesh and he smiled. “You mean more to me than you will ever know.”

“I feel the same way about you,” she promised, cuddling her head into his touch starting to rock her hips a little harder over his. Their breathing matched each other’s, growing louder with her movements. “I never want you to doubt the man that you are. I think Lucille would be proud of the man that you are now.”

“She’d kill me if she saw what I was doing right now,” he snickered, lifting enough to pepper kisses over her jawline. “I feel like she’d rather me be pining over her still, not falling head over heels in love with someone else.”

“I think you’re doing both,” she whimpered, her hips rolling firmer over his length having Negan moan out. Keeping them close had the warmth of his breath twisting with hers. This moment wasn’t about sex. It was about connecting. Showing how much they cared for each other.

Firmly wrapping his arm around her waist, Negan rolled her onto her back on the couch. Yelping out, her back arched and it was followed by a laugh with the confused expression that Negan was giving her, “The ice! The ice! It’s cold.”

“Oh,” Negan snorted, reaching behind her to dig out the bag of ice that was there. They both were laughing with Negan dropping his head against her chest. Setting the ice on the ground, he felt her kissing at the top of his head and he sighed loudly.

“A bag of ice up my ass sure did add a new sensation,” she teased him, tugging at his hair enough to bring his lips back to hers so they could kiss. Adjusting his body enough, he made sure to take the pressure off his hurt knee before he started to roll his hips up against hers. Locking his eyes with hers, Negan didn’t want to let go of this moment.

“Promise me that we will have each other for the rest of our lives,” Negan begged of her, his fingertips tracing over her jawline. Their bodies moved together in unison with her bouncing up with every thrust. “In whatever way possible.”

“You don’t have to beg me to promise,” she assured him, peppering kisses over his lips with him pausing his movements over her to give her his full attention. “We both know what it’s like not having each other in our lives. It hurts too much. We’ll always have each other from here on out.”

That was all he needed to hear. Now that he knew what it was like to be happy again and to feel loved after being lonely for two years, Negan knew that he couldn’t lose this.

Their love making session was slow, drawn out and by the time they were done, they were laid stretched out together on the couch. Her thigh was wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his chest with her drawing shapes over his abdomen.

“You don’t think I’m trying to steal Joel’s life, do you?” Negan still found himself considering the things that Joel had lashed out at him for today.

“Negan,” she frowned, her fingertips tracing over the tattoo that was over his pectoral muscle. “Don’t let that eat away at you. Joel is just jealous because people really like you. And it’s hard for him to get people to like him. The children still very much love their dad. They have just happily accepted you into their lives too.”

“I just don’t want…” Negan started only to yelp when he felt the sensation of something cold over his nipple. Arching his back up, he lifted his head to see that she had grabbed one of the ice cubes that was mostly melted from the bag that he set aside earlier. “Jesus!”

“It was the quickest way to get your mind focused on something else,” she was highly amused with herself, replacing the cold sensation with warmth by kissing over his nipple. Circling her tongue over his nipple, she snickered against his flesh with him moaning out. Running a line over the center of Negan’s abdomen down toward his belly button had him sucking in a sharp breath. Looking up at him, she shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. “Joel was drunk. The worst thoughts that Joel has come out of his mouth when he’s drunk. I think you’re right about what you said with Joel. He’s having a hard time coming to terms with what happened between you and him. His brain is hooked on me, but his body wants both you and me.”

“I think he’s worried about what people will think about him if they find out we…” Negan considered the words that he should be using to describe what he did with Joel. “Fucked?”

“Joel hasn’t been comfortable with himself since he was eighteen years old,” she alerted Negan with a long sigh, dropping the ice cube back on top of the bag she pulled it out of. “Give it time. Everything will work itself out. I promise you that.”

“I should be the one promising you that,” Negan noted, his fingertips tracing over her back doing his best to comfort her. “You’re the one being placed in the middle of me and Joel…”

“Poor me. Stuck between two incredibly good-looking men who both love me,” she caused Negan to snort and laugh with her bluntness. “I’m more worried about you and Joel. Allow me that. Because I’m fine. I’ll be fine and I don’t doubt that. Right now, I’m in the arms of the man that I want to be with and I’m perfectly happy with that.”

----

“You can stop babysitting me,” Joel glanced over at Tommy who was falling asleep at the other end of the couch. After they came home, Peter went to bed almost immediately because he was exhausted. Elizabeth and Tommy stayed up with Joel, both of them visibly worried about him. Pretty quickly Elizabeth had picked up on the fact that Joel had gotten into a fight but he refused to tell her with who. That wasn’t something he was about to bring his daughter into. So instead she stayed up with both him and Tommy for as long as she could. And when she started falling asleep, Joel carried her upstairs to bed. Tommy made him promise to come back downstairs, but Joel didn’t get it. It had been hours since he put Elizabeth to bed, yet Tommy was still holding true to staying with Joel. There was a bag of ice that Joel had placed on his knuckles on his right hand and with his left hand he was holding ice to his nose. In the few good hits that Negan had got on Joel, he had managed to hit Joel in the nose and there was a cut over the bridge of it. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I don’t know,” Tommy’s eyes grew wide with him trying to wake himself up. Sliding into a better position to focus on the screen, Tommy was still wary about leaving Joel alone. “I don’t trust you alone with yourself right now.”

“You really think I would kill myself and let my children have to deal with that for the rest of their lives?” Joel snapped getting a certain look from Tommy that told him he did think that Joel was capable of hurting himself. “I might be selfish in your opinion, but I’d never do that to Ellie and Peter.”

“I’ve heard the way you talk when you’re upset,” Tommy reminded Joel, turning on the couch to face Joel to give him his full attention. This was why Tommy wouldn’t leave his side. He was worried that Joel would hurt himself. “You’ve threatened it before. Not so long ago either.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Joel stressed, throwing his hand that was holding the icepack to his nose up in the air to silence Tommy from even talking about it any further. “It was a stupid thing to say and I should have never said it.”

“People don’t always make the best decisions when they are drunk. Emotions get high, their feelings get enhanced and they do…stupid things,” Tommy waved his hand about in the air suggesting that Joel was a perfect example for that. “I don’t think you would have done a lot of things that you did tonight if you were sober.”

“Noted,” Joel scoffed, lowering down on the couch, spreading his thighs further apart so he could get comfortable.

“I’m not trying to be rude Joel, but you say one thing and then you act another,” Tommy recognized how things were with his older brother right now. It was confusing trying to understand what Joel was doing with his life. “Here we are talking about Y/N and how you don’t want to upset her. How you want her happy. Then you are running off on her and attacking her boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” Joel suggested with a frown, dropping his head back against the couch out of frustration. What happened tonight was not something that he wanted to explain to people or even go into detail with. Tommy was trying, but Joel was attempting to keep things locked up.

“Everything is complicated with you,” Tommy blurt out with a frown, stroking his fingers through his long hair. “I love you big brother, but you’re emotional because you are jealous.”

Most days, Joel would have fought back. Swore he wasn’t jealous, but deep down? He knew that he was. And there was a strong sense of confusion that filled his veins too.

“Jealousy, anger, alcohol…” Tommy listed off the things he knew were going on with Joel right now, “they make you do stupid things.”

“I get it, I’m stupid,” Joel grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes back to a close. That was a word that Tommy had focused on pretty heavily at this point. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of it.”

“I know it’s hard to hear considering,” Tommy reasoned with Joel knowing that he had offended his brother with that word. There were just a lot of decisions that Joel was making lately that Tommy didn’t agree with or understand. “Can I ask you something?”

“If I said no, it wouldn’t stop you,” Joel pointed out, his head dropping to the side with his eyes slowly opening. “So why bother asking?”

“I’m trying to be polite,” Tommy said with a tip of his head, his dark eyes gazing over his brother. “If you really do feel the way you say you do about Y/N then why does the idea of being together with all three of you bother you so much?”

“Really?” Joel grunted eliciting a dramatic shrug from Tommy. By the expression on Tommy’s face, he was genuinely curious. “Would you be okay if Maria told you that she was in love with another man and she wanted to be with him, but also be with you on the side?”

“If I was desperate enough and that was the only option, I’d take it,” Tommy surprised Joel with his answer. It didn’t seem to bother Tommy that much. “I love Maria. I know it was fast, I know that you would disapprove, but I love her a lot. So if that was the only way to have her in my life, I would deal.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Joel commented, his brown eyes unsure of the way that Tommy responded to his question.

“Beggers can’t be choosers Joel. You’re lucky enough that she still loves you,” Tommy snorted, his hands rubbing out over his own thighs in a stressed manner. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that Joel was glaring at him, but he didn’t care. “The things you did to her? Most people don’t come back from that. And you only recently broke up with Tess. Yet, you are expecting her to give up the one person who makes her feel good about herself to give you another chance? After how many? You’re lucky that she wants to be with you in any way.”

“Thanks for the support little brother,” Joel snarled, his eyes rolling when he dropped his head back against the couch in frustration again.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Tommy defended himself with a yawn. Right now he was fighting falling asleep off, but it was hard. “If you love her, I think you’d want her to be the happiest version of herself. Right? So if she’s the happiest with both of you…?”

“What would people think?” Joel stressed, his nose wrinkling and that sent a rush of pain up to his forehead. Cussing out, he lifted the ice pack back to his nose to place it where it hurt the most. That was a thought he had been worried about from the start. What the world would think about the three of them being together in some kind of relationship.

“When have you ever cared what people thought?” Tommy was confused by the comment considering Joel always hated people as it was. There was never a moment where Tommy even thought for a second that Joel would care about what others thought about him. “You’ve never been the type to care what people thought of you. They told you that you were too young to be my primary caregiver, but you did it anyways. When people told you that Y/N’s parents were right, the two of you should get an abortion, you told them to fuck off.”

Going to say something, Joel scoffed when he realized that his brother was right, “And if people said things, do you really think it would be out of judgement or jealousy? Most people would love to be in a poly relationship with two people. Especially someone like Negan. Most straight men would happily bend over for Negan.”

Glaring over at Tommy had Tommy shrugging dramatically and making an awkward expression, “I’m just saying Joel, they would. They would brag about it too. So I don’t think you have anything to worry about. People might judge, but they would secretly be thinking how fucking lucky you were.”

“What makes you think I bent over for Negan?” Joel questioned with venom in his tone and it had Tommy’s face twisting with an array of emotions. Of all the things, that was what Joel was focused on and it seemed to put Tommy in a hard place.

An uncomfortable smile donned Tommy’s face and threw his hands up in the air once more, “Originally? I didn’t think you did, but your response to it tells me otherwise.”

A rush of warmth flooded into Joel’s face. Biting down on his lip, Joel kept himself from saying what he really wanted to, forcing himself to look away from Tommy. It embarrassed him to know that Tommy knew what had happened between him and Negan. That wasn’t something he wanted people to know.

“I didn’t think it was that kind of threesome, but I support it,” Tommy threw it out there, taking a moment to consider his next thought. “I’m not gonna judge you for being in a relationship with two people that might make you happy. You haven’t been happy in a long time Joel. If another man makes you happy? And if you sleep with him like that? I support it. Because I know you love Y/N. And something tells me that you like Negan more than you give up too. And if people give you shit for it? I’ll break their face.”

Again, Joel was quiet. It was hard being open with Tommy over…this. That was everything that someone in his position would want to hear from someone they loved. He just didn’t know if he wanted his little brother looking at him like that.

“So…” Tommy finally broke the moment of silence that surrounded them. Clearing his throat, Tommy adjusted his body on the couch and looked to Joel. “How was it?”

“How was what?” Joel scoffed, the line at the bridge of his nose growing deeper.

“Y’know,” Tommy nodded his head about trying to hint to Joel what he was talking about. When Joel realized that he was asking about the sex between him and Negan, Joel scowled and forced himself to look away from Tommy..

“I’m not doing this,” Joel was quick to respond and it had Tommy snickering. Warmth flooded into Joel’s face with his brother now asking him details about the sex that happened with Negan. “It’s not funny Tommy.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Tommy swore, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “I guarantee every man in this town would be jealous. All the women too.”

“So you’d sleep with Negan?” Joel retorted having Tommy groan in disgust. Tommy shook his head and it made Joel angrier. “See, you’re a liar.”

“He’s like my brother you moron,” Tommy realized they were talking too loudly and he lowered his voice. “You, Y/N and Negan were my family growing up. People told me all the time that I should have stolen Y/N out from under you when you got divorced, but I can’t look at her like that. She adopted me Joel. You and her are the closest things I have to parents. And Negan was always like a big brother. So no, I couldn’t sleep with Negan because that would be like sleeping with you.”

Growling out, Joel set aside the ice pack and dropped his head forward into his hands, “Stop overthinking things Joel. You’re sabotaging yourself and your own happiness because you’re suddenly worrying about what other people might think of you?”

“Tommy…” Joel’s voice sounded irritated with it vibrating against his hands.

“Look at me,” Tommy called out to Joel, reaching out to shove at Joel’s shoulder when he didn’t. Another shove had Joel lifting his head in anger. “Do you love Y/N?”

“Yes,” Joel was quick to answer.

“Really love her? Or are you only feeling these things because of Negan?” Tommy brought up the thing that so many others had already done.

“Really love her,” Joel was disgusted that his own brother would question his motives. “I made a mistake when I divorced her Tommy. Why do you think Tess left me?”

“I thought that was a mutual thing,” Tommy commented, his brown eyes confused with his brother’s response about his ex-girlfriend. “You said that she wanted more from you than you were willing to give.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Joel scoffed, pointing toward Tommy who tipped his head to the side like a confused puppy dog. “Toward the end of my marriage with Y/N, I wasn’t very affectionate. It was something that always upset her. She wanted to cuddle. She wanted to hear how much I loved her. Instead I slept on the edge of the bed, the opposite side away from her, I wasn’t touchy feely…”

“Right…” Tommy was waiting for the explanation with Joel rambling.

“I couldn’t be loving and emotional, when I wasn’t that way with Y/N,” Joel expressed how he felt, remembering what he was feeling when he was dating someone else. “And I guess I was always comparing her to Y/N. Using our relationship as an example of how things should be. I liked Tess, but I never loved Tess. She put up with it for as long as she could, but I couldn’t give her what she wanted in a relationship because I was always so hooked on Y/N.”

“Then why did you leave her?” Tommy stressed the question that was always on everyone’s mind. Why would he be stupid enough to leave Y/N when he was still so visibly in love with her?

“I don’t know,” Joel had no really good answer for that. And that infuriated Tommy with his response. “I don’t know Tommy! I could blame my mental health. It was poor. And I think that’s really what it was, but it was still me making a really stupid fucking decision little brother. And I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea in the first place because it never was.”

Tommy was considering everything that Joel was saying, but he was quiet because it was obvious this whole thing was complicated like it had been stressed many times before, “I guess my brain thought I needed time to discover that she was what I wanted all along.”

“Well your brain took its sweet ass time,” Tommy replied back with a disgusted breath at his brother’s confession. Joel didn’t disagree with him. Especially now that they were in such a strange position that had Joel questioning everything. “How many women did you sleep with after you got divorced?”

That was not something that Joel expected Tommy to ask of him. And when he did? Joel got angry. That wasn’t even something that he thought they should be talking about.

“Don’t make me answer that,” Joel begged of his brother, rolling his eyes that Tommy would even go there.

“How many other women have you slept with other than Y/N?” Tommy continued to push having Joel’s jaw flexing. Here he was going to be stubborn and not answer his brother. “Is it so many that you don’t know or are you afraid that I will tell her? Because I’m your fucking brother and you should be able to tell me these things. We should be able to talk to each other about this stuff.”

“There are two answers to your question,” Joel resented the fact that Tommy was going to this. Especially since he didn’t know what it had to do with what they were talking about in the first place. “I slept with a few people before I ever got with Y/N. You know that she wasn’t my first, right? I was her first, but with me...a lot of girls wanted to hook up with me when I was younger.”

“I assumed that. You were popular, girls were falling at your feet,” Tommy recalled what it was like when Joel was in high school. “And it’s not like I couldn’t hear shit because my room was right next to yours. So while mom and dad were sleeping, I knew that you were sneaking people into your room.”

“Yeah, well your dad wouldn’t have had as much of a problem with it as you might think,” Joel swallowed down hard, his eyes gazing over at Tommy from where he was seated on the couch. It was hard to admit this to his brother when he let out a tremoring breath. “Our father is the one that got me the condoms. And he sure as hell didn’t have a problem with me sleeping around. In fact, he urged me to do it.”

“What?” Tommy snapped at Joel realizing that this was headed in a direction that he wasn’t expecting. “Joel, why would dad do that? You know that he just about ripped my head off when he found that magazine I was keeping in my room.”

“Because…” Joel paused, biting down on his bottom lip and looking toward the stairs. “Do you promise not to look at me differently if I tell you something?”

“What?” Tommy scoffed, sitting forward on the couch when he gazed over Joel. “Did you kill someone or something? Because I always thought you had it in you to do it.”

“Tommy, shut up,” Joel couldn’t help but laugh that his brother was being so ridiculous in the moment. “Please just give me a moment to say this, okay? I reckon you’ll never look at me the same again after I tell you. Because I…I hate myself for it too.”

“Okay?” Tommy didn’t know how to respond, he just listened and kept quiet like Joel asked him too.

“When I was younger, I thought I was hot shit. People really liked me. And girls were throwing themselves at me. The first time I had sex, it was awful. I mean, terrible,” Joel stressed, biting down on his bottom lip and he hit his knee. “I didn’t know if it was me or the girl because I really didn’t like her that much. I just did it because I’m a guy. There were a lot of hot girls that wanted to sleep with me and I didn’t turn them down. Some experiences were better than others. But? I uh…there was always one person I really liked.”

“Y/N?” Tommy spoke up, his head shaking about with Joel sucking in a sharp breath of air. Joel’s eyes grew damp when he looked to Tommy with a shake of his head.

“I didn’t start having feelings for her until this one day I was in class, but let me get to something else first,” Joel hushed his brother, lifting his hand up to silence Tommy so that way he couldn’t stop himself from continuing his story. “Tommy, I always liked Negan. And not just in the way that you like a friend. I crushed on girls that were like in the magazines and what not, but when I was around Negan? I just kinda felt things that I knew I shouldn’t be feeling. He’d come over to hang out and we’d watch things that we shouldn’t have been watching when no one was home. And at first, we’d just do things to ourselves. I just thought it was something that guys did together. But throughout time, we started touching each other. And this one time, dad came home early for something. He walked in on me and Negan doing that together and he…he beat the shit outta me Tommy. Calling me a fa…you know. He was so ashamed of me.”

“How did I not know about this?” Tommy asked, clearly horrified from what he was learning about the past.

“No one knew. The only people that knew were me and him. Not even mom knew. He called me that word, threw Negan out of the house and then he kicked my ass. Wanted to beat it outta me. Told me he wasn’t going to have a queer living in his house. Said I had to get my shit together because if he found me doing that again he would throw me out and take everything away from me,” Joel informed his brother, his voice breaking when he forced himself to look away from Tommy. “We came up with some stupid story about me being attacked by another kid from an opposing school so he didn’t get in trouble. The only reason Negan found out about it is because he was there when dad showed up. When I came to school looking like I did? He immediately knew. So now the only people in the world that ever knew were me, Negan, dad and you. It’s not that I was gay, I had feelings for other women throughout my life, I just…I really liked Negan. I think I knew pretty young that I had feelings for both men and women. Or Negan and women. I don’t know. Because there isn’t another guy that I’ve felt like that toward, but I don’t know if that’s because it’s how it is or because our dad beat it out of me.”

“You should have told me,” Tommy looked upset to hear that Joel went through that and Joel shrugged his shoulders. Joel was emotional about the past and it was devastating Tommy to think that Joel went through that alone. “I remember how upset mom was about the way you looked. Wanting to call the police, but dad wouldn’t let her.”

“Because he was the one that did it,” Joel released something that sounded like a whimper even though he didn’t want it to be like that. “That’s how I knew that Y/N was the love of my life. Because when I kissed her? When I slept with her. I felt something for her that I had never felt for anyone. Not even Negan. I slept with a handful of people to try to prove I wasn’t what dad thought I was, but it wasn’t until her where everything in the world felt right.”

Pausing to think about everything, Joel nervously rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged, “You know when I was dating Tess, that I cheated on her with Y/N, right?” Joel brought up what was true to his little brother, catching the way that Tommy’s eyebrows bounced up. “We never stopped sleeping with each other Tommy. We may have been divorced, but we were never apart more than a month or two. So I didn’t completely just give up on her those four years.”

“I don’t know if that makes things worse or better Joel,” Tommy was honest with Joel about how he felt with things toward the whole Tess and Y/N situation. “She probably thought the whole time it was a sign that you still wanted to be with her, but then you never did come back. No wonder she thinks it’s because of Negan that you want to be with her.”

“I had problems,” Joel defended himself, his hand raising to place over the center of his chest. “You know just as well as me Tommy that we’re soulmates.”

“But I think Negan is her soulmate too,” Tommy was honest with Joel and for the first time he actually saw disappointment in Joel’s eyes. “Is that so wrong? Maybe…just maybe he’s your soulmate too.”

“I’m nothing compared to him,” Joel declared, his head lowering with his confession. “I have no chance if that’s really the case.”

“Yet, they both have been more than willing to include you in things,” Tommy reminded Joel, sliding in closer to his brother to give him a firm nudge. “Maybe start thinking about the positives in things. You can be alone, or you can have something which is better than nothing. And with what you just told me…? I think that’s more than enough reason to prove that this whole poly relationship thing is a great idea. After what you went through? Dad isn’t here anymore. I am. And I support you. I support you loving both of them.”

“But what about the children?” Joel’s breathing was broken and it had Tommy sucking in a sharp breath of air, his finger shakily pushing into his dark hair.

“I don’t think they’d care. They love all three of you. I think they’d be okay with it. As long as you don’t act like it’s a weird thing, I think they would accept you as you are,” Tommy stressed to his brother what he believed was true and honest. “They are good kids Joel. You raised them to be accepting of people. You never taught them to be any other way. It’d be a lot easier having the three of you together than having you separated. Let them show you that Joel.”

“She learned the truth Tommy with what I had done,” Joel admitted to his little brother, turning to look at him with a saddened expression. “Why Negan really stopped interacting with me and her. What I did to Negan. Why I really slept with her the first time.”

“Does that matter anymore?” Tommy responded in a way that wasn’t what Joel was expecting. “Yeah, you got with her to be a douchebag, but you fell in love with her. The two of you were together sixteen years before you got divorced. Your feelings weren’t fake those sixteen years. I think she knows better than to assume that it was all just to fuck with Negan. Negan left when you were eighteen. You could have dropped it, but you didn’t because you love her.”

“I have fucked things up so much little brother,” Joel realized, dragging his hands down over the sides of his face. “I don’t even know how to fix things.”

“Try,” Tommy said one word, but the emphasis on it obviously meant something to Tommy. “Just try. That’s all that matters. Trying.”

Giving a nod, Joel didn’t know how he would even approach trying, but it wasn’t bad advice. Standing up from the couch, Joel went into the kitchen to put back the ice packs and returned to step before Tommy, “I’m going to go up to my room. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Tommy blurt out getting Joel to look back at him over his shoulder. “I don’t want to wake up to something bad Joel.”

“I promise, I’m just going to my room to rest,” Joel swore, giving Tommy a firm nod moving toward the stairs until Tommy called out to him.

“You could have told me Joel because I would have loved you no matter what,” Tommy promised Joel, swallowing down the lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away after Joel explained to him what happened with their father. “Unlike dad, I think you have the right to be happy. And you are always gonna be my hero big brother. You were more my father than he ever was. You weren’t broken because you were attracted to both Negan and Y/N. And I look up to you even more now cus’ you were able to tell me. I love you Joel. I’m sorry you had to go through all that alone.”

Moving to the stairs, Tommy could hear the sounds of Joel’s breathing. It was broken and he was upset, turning Joel to face him, Tommy wrapped his brother up in his arms and gave him a strong, lingering hug that had Joel finally returning the hug after a few minutes.

“I think a lot of what you are going through is dad’s fault,” Tommy whispered, patting Joel at the center of the back. “You were never allowed to be you. But stop letting dad be your inside voice Joel. You’re good enough. Stop forcing yourself to be miserable. You deserve to be happy. And this is your chance.”

Swallowing down hard, Joel pulled back and away from Tommy. Patting the side of Joel’s face, Tommy gave his brother a reassuring nod, staying at the bottom of the steps when Joel started to head up toward his bedroom.

Once inside of his room, Joel kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot. A tremoring breath escaped Joel’s throat with him bringing his hands up to his face to cover it. For so long Joel had held that in and to finally tell someone had him shaking. Talking about his past had him feeling things and feeling them very strongly.

Looking to his laptop, Joel saw that it was opened and he bit down firmly on his bottom lip. This whole thing had Joel thinking about what he had done tonight to both Negan and Y/N. And then Lucille popped into his mind. Never had he really been open with anyone about the secret friendship that he had with Negan’s wife. They used to talk all the time, but when Joel separated from Y/N, they really didn’t talk as much as they used to.

Logging into his e-mail, Joel typed her name into the search bar bringing up all their messages that they shared together. Often back then they would send each other messages, videos, voice recordings and he had all of them saved.

It had been so long since he really thought about Lucille. After divorcing Y/N he got distracted. Noticing how many unread e-mails he had from her truly made him realize that. Guilt started to build up inside of him considering how quickly he abandoned that relationship once he was no longer with Y/N.

Opening a few of the messages, Joel realized most of them were just her writing him to ask how he was doing. But the final one? It was a video that he never even bothered to look at. Swallowing down hard, he opened the message and waited for the video to download. Shifting in his seat, Joel rest his elbows on the desk and bit down on his bottom lip when it started to play.

“Hey there stranger,” Lucille’s weak voice drew a labored breath from his lips. In the video she was wearing a purple wig that was shoulder length instead of having her naturally blonde hair. Leaning further back in the chair, Joel bit down on his bottom lip. It was obvious by the way her eyes looked that she was tired and weak. There was always a glow and an energy to Lucille when they spoke, but that wasn’t there. “It’s been a long time since we’ve talked and I thought I would send you this. What do you think about the area back here?”

Moving out of the way of the camera, she focused on the room that she seemed to be in, “Negan insisted that we have our own little space so we can spend all of our time together.”

Sliding back into the frame, Lucille gave what looked like to be a happy smile causing an ache at Joel’s chest, “I think he knows I don’t have much time left. He’s having a hard time with it. I’ve pretty much accepted it at this point. I’m ready. I’m too tired to fight.”

A broken breath fell from Joel’s throat, an overwhelming overflow of guilt eating away at him that he never seen this or even responded to her. And he knew that she had been dead for years now. They were friends and he did the one thing that he accused Negan of doing with Y/N and him. Abandoned her.

“We have our own little couple cave here. It’s the most doting he’s ever been. I made him go out to get me ice cream while I made this video for you. He never wants to leave my side anymore. I had to beg him to do it,” Lucille stated with another long sigh, her head shaking as she spoke. “I’m worried about him. He’s not sleeping. I think he’s scared that if he sleeps, I’m going to die and he won’t be with me.”

There were tears burning at Lucille’s eyes as she spoke, “I’m just worried about him in general. He’s not strong enough for this. I don’t know what he’s going to do when I die. I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle it.”

There was a long silence and Joel could see tears sliding down her face when she shrugged, “I need you to do something for me. I think we were wrong in keeping all of us separated. More than anything when I’m gone, I think Negan is going to need friends. People to keep him from drowning. I think he needs you and Y/N. People who really know him. So when you find out that I die, please find a way to get in contact with him Joel. I’ve appreciated this friendship that the two of us have had and I hope you can do this for me.”

Stopping the video, Joel lowered his head and let out a trembling breath. Why did he never open the fucking e-mail? Why did he avoid her after he had broken up with Y/N all those years ago? Trying to gather himself, Joel pushed forward and hit the play button to start the video back up again.

“I miss talking to you,” she declared with a nervous laugh, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke to the camera. “I wanted to give you some advice Joel. Take it or leave it from a dying woman with nothing but a small amount of time. I know that you want more in life. That you felt cheated for the things that happened to you, but I think you need to reconsider your divorce to Y/N. I was really upset with my life for a long time too, but I realized something. I loved Negan. Through and through. I always knew there was a good man deep down inside of him and he’s really proven that the last year or so. He’s the man I always knew him to be. The only thing I regret is never being able to have a family. Joel, you have the one thing I always wanted. The one thing I always longed for.”

It took a minute for Lucille to gather herself, biting down on her bottom lip with her tears sliding down her face. Wiping at them with the back of her hand, Lucille sniffled and shook her head, “A family Joel. A family that loves you endlessly. Hear it from someone who has what you would consider everything. I have everything, but when I die, I’ll have nothing to be remembered by. You had someone that loved you, children who think the world of you. I have Negan. And he’ll be the only person to keep my memory alive. And he’ll be alone. Trust me when I tell you Joel, the everything you long for…you already have it. Nothing beats love. Not money, not fame…love. Because at the end of your life you truly realize who it is you want to have with you. And I realize now that it was Negan for me.”

The sound of a door opening was heard and Lucille was looking off the screen. At the corner of the screen Joel watched Negan walking over toward the back table to set down a few bags, “I’m sorry for taking so long. I had to go to two stores just to get these. I bought you a few just in case you keep having cravings.”

Pointing her finger back toward the corner of the room in the video, Lucille smiled and whispered faintly, “Goodbye Joel. Thank you for everything.”

“What was that?” a younger Negan turned on his heel to face her with her glancing back over her shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” Lucille stammered before ending the video.

It had Joel sliding further down in his chair feeling the ache growing at the center of his chest. Now, not only did he regret what he had done with Y/N, he realized that he also made a huge mistake in ignoring Lucille and her messages. It made Joel wonder how long after that video Lucille passed away.

Her last message was her telling him that his family was the most important thing. And now that she was gone and it was years later, Joel realized that she was right.

Sliding in closer to the desk, Joel went through a few folders until stopping on one that he wanted. Clicking open the video, Joel focused on the lower quality video smiling when he saw Y/N holding onto a young Peter sitting by the Christmas tree come into focus.

“Look at all those presents,” Joel’s voice was younger and he turned the camera toward him to show that Elizabeth was in his arms cuddling her head in against his shoulder. This was when they were still so happy and Joel didn’t doubt his life. “It looks like Santa was very good to the both of you this year.”

Pressing a quick kiss over a younger Elizabeth’s head, Joel turned the camera back to Y/N and Peter. Peter was clapping his hands together and reached for a present to inspect it, “I wonder what you did this year to be so good.”

“We’re just good always daddy,” Elizabeth’s younger voice was heard with her being set down and running to sit by the other two next to the tree. “You know that.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N wrapped her arms around both the children hugging them close. “You both are the best. And we love you very much.”

“Daddy, come on. Come here,” Peter called out moving his hands in a dramatic motion. A rumble of a laugh from the other side of the camera fell from Joel’s throat. A moment later Joel was setting up the camera so it would frame the whole family. He walked into the frame and dropped down on the ground next to Y/N. Peppering her with kisses had her smiling and Joel truly wondered where he went wrong. What was it that made him question the love he had for his family? He had the perfect life and now he was left realizing he should have never doubted that.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

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janiehellion · 5 months ago

Text

Healing Touch

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!"

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

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