#Walking Dead oneshot

[pretty-red-garnet]

The Alexandrian

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Alexandria • Fluff

     Daryl looks around the gated community. It's strange, the houses— mansions, really— that lined the streets looked right out of a catalog or one of those home renovation shows. It was clean and if he couldn't still hear the quiet groaning from some stray walkers, he'd think he was transported back in time.

     Rick was cautiously looking at their guide, Aaron, and the leader Deanna. She wanted to interview them. Daryl almost turned and left right there, but then he saw Carl holding Lil' Asskicker, and his feet were planted where he stood.

     After they were all interviewed and had given up their weapons, they were given two houses to use. Daryl scoffed at the sight. No way would he get used to this. No way.

     As his group began to filter in the house, he gave one last glance around. There was a house not far that was smaller than the rest. It was nice, but looked out of place in the community. He didn't give it too much thought before heading inside.

     Everyone was smiling, still nervous and careful, but the hot running water had lifted some spirits. Daryl didn't care much. He instead headed back out to sit on the porch. Everyone was staying in the larger house, so he would take watch. The whole place gave him an uneasy feeling. He felt like the people were giving him odd looks. He didn't belong, and everyone knew it.

     It was late at night when Daryl was still outside. The house was too stuffy, he couldn't sleep. Not here. He was fiddling with his crossbow, absentmindedly cleaning it with a rag. It was more to keep his hands busy than anything, he could barely see in the dim glow of the porch light.

     He heard a door slam and his eyes shot up. It was from that little house not far. A woman was standing on the porch. She was a little ways away, but Daryl could just barely see that she looked tense. Her head was down so he couldn't see her face, but her hand was rubbing at her temple. When she sat down on the front step, her leg bounced anxiously.

     He bit his lip in worry. What did she have to be so anxious about? Maybe this place wasn't safe, maybe they were hiding something. Daryl vaguely knew that the thoughts were slightly paranoid, but he was on edge and hasn't slept in days.

     As if she felt eyes on her, her eyes flitted up to find his. Daryl shot his eyes away and instead began to fiddle with his bow again. He hears a door close again and when he chanced a glance back at the woman, she was gone.

Daryl looked at the house. It was large and filled to the brim with both people from Alexandria and his family. He bit his lip in thought. His family seemed adamant in trying to fit in, to try and make it work, but he wasn't so sure. He couldn't fit in here, he wouldn't.

Daryl wasn't a stranger to the sideways looks he got from the people here. The looks of disgust when he brought home animals on a string ready to be cleaned. Or when he was caked in blood and dirt from being outside the walls.

This party Deanna had thrown was something that was supposed to stay in the old world. Not when there are dead people walking around. He saw Rick holding Judith and chatting away with some of the locals through the window. He shoved his hands in his pockets and finally turned away. He couldn't do it.

"Hey!" Daryl looks towards the sound and saw Aaron standing at his front steps.

"Thought you were goin' to that party over there," Daryl says, gesturing loosely in the direction of Deanna's house.

"Oh no, I was never going. Especially with Eric's leg being how it is." Daryl looks at him with furrowed brows.

"Why the hell you tell me to go then?" Daryl says, his tone a little sharp.

"I said to try. You did," Aaron explains with a friendly smile. "Why don't you come in and have dinner with us? We're having spaghetti."

Aaron waves at something behind him and Daryl turns to look. It's that woman he saw the other night. She waves back but looks slightly confused at Daryl's presence. Now that he's closer, he can take in how pretty she is. She looks a little shy, but her eyes sparkle even in the dim lighting. Daryl looks away and back at Aaron, thinking for just a second before taking his invitation.

"So, who is that girl?" Daryl asks during dinner. He couldn't help it. He hasn't seen much of her around the community. He'd be lying is he said he wasn't the least bit interested.

"Oh, that's Y/N," Aaron says. "We brought her in a few weeks ago. She's still... adjusting." Daryl hums in response.

"Just haven't seen her around s'all." Daryl shrugs and slurps another mouthful of spaghetti. Aaron wasn't lying when he said it was good.

"She isn't very social," Eric says. "She's nice enough though. She just keeps to herself."

"We just try to give her space. She contributes to the community a lot, especially with her garden," Aaron finishes. "If you ever need some fresh produce, she's your girl."

It's the next day and Daryl is crouched by some bike parts. Aaron had offered him a position to go out scouting if he can put a bike together with parts he had. Getting out of these confining walls sounded great, so here he was, in Aaron's garage putting a bike together.

He heard footsteps and looked up, seeing Y/N standing outside by the open garage. She gave Daryl a peculiar look, glancing at him in the garage and at the front door. Finally, she walks over to him a little awkwardly.

"Hey, is uhh, Aaron or Eric home?" She asks, quietly. She's holding a little basket with what seems to be some tomatoes.

"Nah, they're at the infirmary." A worried look colored her face so Daryl rushed to explain. "Just checkin' up on Eric's ankle s'all. They're fine."

"Oh, ok, good," she says. Her voice is quiet still, soft spoken. "I just wanted to drop this off." She holds up the basket.

"You could leave it here, I'll make sure to give it to 'em." She nods and lays the basket down near the front of the garage. She gives him a little smile and Daryl's heart thumps. God, she's really pretty.

"Thanks." And with that, she's gone.

Daryl doesn't see her much after that quick interaction. Sometimes, when he can't sleep and he's outside, he sees her sit on her steps like she's lost in thought. Other times, she leaves before the suns come up, going beyond the walls with a gun on one hip and a buck knife on the other. Even bringing back some fresh meat once in a while. Daryl would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't curious about her.

She's quiet and reserved. Sometimes he'll spot an Alexandrian going to her house to ask for a fresh tomato or berries. Unlike other residents, shes doesn't chat up a storm. She does what needs to be done and that's it.

Daryl will sit out on the porch some nights and wonder who she is. Aaron said he just found you a few weeks ago, but no other explanation. Where was she before? Had she had a group, or was she alone all this time? The woman could definitely handle herself if she came and went as often as she did.

"Hey, pookie," Carol's voice distracts Daryl from his smoke break. He'd been at Aaron's house nearly all day, and was finally done now that the sun was setting. He hums. "Could you go to Y/N's and grab some green beans? I didn't get enough earlier for my casserole."

Daryl looks at her and scoffs. Carol had slipped into the housewife role since coming to Alexandria, and it makes Daryl annoyed to no end. Mostly because she does it so well, baking cookies and playing Betty Crocker in flowy blouses. Makes him sick.

He hums and nods once, stamping out his cigarette and making his way to your house. He was nervous, he doesn't know you and just rocking up and asking for something felt off. He knows everyone does it, but still.

He knocks once he gets the nerve and wait. After a while and no answer, he feels awkward. Maybe she isn't even here. He's just about to turn and leave before the door opens.

"Hey, Carol just needs some more—" He stops short when he finally looks at the girl. The door is only open a crack, and her face is slightly concealed by shadow, but he can still see faint red marks around her eyes. Her fingers on the door are jittery and she shifts her weight from side to side. "You alright?"

"What did you need?" She doesn't answer his question. Her voice is rough, like she's been crying a while. Gone is the silky softness Daryl had heard the other day. It send a foreign feeling to his chest.

"Just... some green beans but—"

"Ok, give me a second." She turns and leaves, leaving the door open just a little. Daryl feels unbelievably awkward. The poor girl was just crying and now she has to fetch a stranger fucking green beans. She comes back a moment later with a basket of beans.

"Is that enough?" She asks, her face still tear stained but slightly redder, like she had scrubbed at it.

"Yeah, yeah... thanks," Daryl said. He grabbed the basket slowly. "You sure you're alright? I could go get Aaron or somethin'..." Daryl thinks they're close, he's seen her talk a little with him before.

"No, no. He doesn't..." she stops talking and looks anywhere but to Daryl. He waits patiently for her to continue. "I shouldn't bother him."

"You two are friends ain't ya? Sure he won't mind."

"I would," she says quietly, her voice still teary sounding, and she sniffles now and then. "Is that all?"

Daryl nods, still looking a little worried at her. But it isn't his business, so he doesn't stop her when she closes the door. He walks away from her house after casting one last look.

Daryl brings Carol the green beans and she looks at him a little thoughtfully. She tilts her head at him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asks, kindly. He shrugs and gives a noncommittal hum.

"She was cryin'..." he finally admits. He felt bad for saying it, he definitely wouldn't want anyone to walk in on him having a moment and tell, but it's Carol. He couldn't not tell her.

"Who?" Carol asks.

"Y/N. Wouldn't say what was wrong though." He shrugs, but still looks a little lost in thought.

"Huh," Carol says. "Maybe you should check on her later then." Daryl furrows his brows at her and gives her a look. "What?"

"I don't know her."

"Well, it'd be good for you to talk to new people. And from what I've seen, she doesn't seem to have many friends either. It'd be nice of you." Daryl thinks for a second before giving Carol another sideways look.

"You sayin' I don't have friends? The hell are you then?" Carol scoffs and laughs at him at the same time. Tilting her head at him.

"We're family. It would be good for you to talk to others. Branch out." She lays a hand on the man's shoulder.

Daryl couldn't stop thinking of the crying girl and what Carol said. He ended up not going to see her again, but he did sit up on his porch casting looks at her house that night. He couldn't get her teary eyes out of his head. That pure sadness in her face. It gave him a pressure in his chest he wasn't fond of.

Eventually he hears Y/N's door snap closes like it always does, and she plants herself down on the steps. She had a mug of something cradled in her hands. It must be hot because Daryl can see steam wafting from it.

He bites his thumb in thought. Maybe he should go over, just make sure she was alright. Like Carol said, you didn't have many friends from what Daryl could tell. She spend most time tending to her garden or outside the walls. The closest he's seen her with anyone was Aaron, and from her reaction earlier, she probably hadn't gone to talk to him.

Finally, Daryl follows the pull in his chest and walks over to her. She spots him right away, and those pretty sparkly eyes of hers nearly make him stop halfway. She looks confused and wary.

"Hey," Daryl starts. She nods, one sharp jut down of her chin. She's still giving him that look, like she's waiting for him to pounce or something. "Just wanted to make sure you're alright... seemed pretty upset earlier."

"I'm ok," she says. She looks down like she's embarrassed. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout." She gives him a little half smile and it sends a flutter to his stomach. "Well, I best be goin'... just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Daryl backtracks. Maybe she just didn't want to be bothered. He shoves his hands in his pants pockets and turns around only halfway before her voice stop him.

"You could stay," she says. Daryl is surprised, and from her expression when he turns around, so is she. "Unless you don't want to... it is pretty late." She rushes out, tapping anxiously at her mug.

"Nah, I'll stay for a bit." Daryl, despite wanted to turn tail and run, stays. His interest in the mysterious woman outweighs his disbelief that a girl so pretty would want anything to do with him.

He takes a seat next to her on the stoop. They both sit in a awkward silence for a minute. Both just looking out towards the sky.

"You want some tea?" Y/N asks lowly, finally breaking the silence.

"You don't have to—"

"I don't mind." Y/N stands up quickly and goes to fetch the tea. She might just be shyer than Daryl, she seemed to want to run away more than he did. But if Daryl was honest, he found it pretty cute, even endearing.

She comes back a few short minutes later with a second steaming mug. She gives it to him with that same small, kind smile. Daryl could feel his neck flush. He accepts with a mumbled thanks.

"So uh," Daryl starts. "How long you've been here? In Alexandria." She takes a sip of tea and makes a so-so gesture with her hand.

"Maybe a month? Little more. Hard to keep track of time now..." She taps her mug still, must be a nervous tick. Daryl hums and nods an agreement. "I was the last person Aaron and Eric brought in before you guys. Feels nice not to be the newbie anymore." She has a little teasing smile on her face, but her head is still down low and her hair partially covers her face.

"Yeah, I'm not likin' being the newbie much," Daryl says with a scoff.

"Everyone looks at you funny... like they don't trust you, because they know of the things you must've done to survive on your own..." Y/N says. She looks down, lost in her head. Almost like she realizes she's been talking, she glances at Daryl and blushes.

"That why you were cryin' before? Cause of the things you've done?" Daryl regrets having spoken, because she looks close to tears again. Good going Daryl, Jesus Christ. He screws his eyes shut for just a quick second, chastising himself in his head. "Sorry, you don—"

"Yes," she says quickly, finally looking up to meet Daryl's gave. For the first time, he can really see just how beautiful and intense her eyes are. He can see every little speck of color. He feels his cheeks burn under her gaze.

"And the things you've done, are they why you sit outside every night? Don't sleep?" She asks him, not breaking eye contact. He nods, slowly, and Daryl sees something he was positive he'd never see in an Alexandrian's eyes.

Understanding.

Those nightly chats continue nearly every night. Even while they were planning how to get the walkers out of the quarry, no matter what time either of them had gotten up that morning. Even after the wolves terrorize the community, and a huge herd surround the tall walls, they still talk almost every night.

Even Daryl's family knew. Carol and Rick teased him about his nightly outings relentlessly. Especially when you'd go over to drop off their produce, it seemed they knew the quiet woman mostly did it to see Daryl.

Daryl and Y/N didn't see much of each other during the day unless it was dropping off produce. Daryl was always out, hunting, going on runs. Y/N mostly helped around inside, tending to her little garden and now helping Maggie with the large one she was planning in the center of the community.

But on rare occasions like today, Daryl and Y/N were both able to get away and head outside the walls. They were both excellent hunters, so Daryl escaped from the walls with her as often as possible. Which was never enough now that he couldn't get out to look for new people, as Rick had ordered.

"Oh, Daryl!" She called out. Daryl was slightly ahead, but turned back to her at her call.

"What?" She pointed excitedly at a little shrub. Daryl looked curiously from her to the bush. "What about it?"

"It's a huckleberry bush. I can dig it up and plant it back home." Home. It sounded strange to Daryl. The last place he considered home he'd lost in a fiery blaze, but he supposed that is what Alexandria is. Home.

Y/N sank to her knees and dug at the dirt a little before giving a satisfied look towards Daryl.

"It's really small, and not in season yet, but the roots look good. Won't be too long before the berries start popping up." Daryl kneeled next to her and helped her to dig it up. She smiled excitedly at him, and Daryl shyly smiled back. Her smile still made his heart jump, even after seeing it so many times. Y/N isn't so shy with him anymore, even if she's still reserved when it comes to other people.

After fighting with the shrub, they eventually yank it out. Daryl smiled to himself seeing the girl so pleased.

"We should get back soon. I should plant it soon as possible, wouldn't want the roots to dry up," Y/N explains. Daryl nods and suddenly becomes nervous.

"Yeah uh... could I show you somethin' first?" He asks. He's biting his thumb now, and Y/N gives him a skeptical look.

"Yeah, what?" She asks.

"Surprise." She looks at him crooked but nods. "Come on."

Daryl leads her back to his bike. She puts the bush carefully in the saddle bag and they both hop on. The first time they rode together, Daryl had been so nervous he'd almost crashed. Now, riding alone made him miss the warm contact.

It's embarrassing how much he had gotten attached to Y/N. Most days he couldn't wait for night fall so he could finally head to her porch and drink that funky tasting tea, just because it made her happy. If Daryl was honest, he'd do just about anything to make her happy and smiling.

Daryl was never in love before. Of course he's loved people, certainly loved his brother and his family, but he's been never in love. But if Daryl could guess, he's pretty sure it felt like this.

A sharp flick to his ear sent him back to present. He cast a look behind him to the culprit, who was grinning. He forced a dramatic frown at her, but that smile and giggle made his lungs just about stop working.

"Don't go so fast! My bush is rocking around in there," she yelled over the rumble of the bike, patting the saddlebag to emphasize her point.

"Yeah, yeah, you and your damn plants!" He teased, eliciting another giggle and a poke to his side. "Thought we had to be fast to get home so you could plant it?"

"Won't be anything to plant if it's all torn apart by the time we get there!"

Finally, Daryl pulled the bike to a stop. Y/N looked around before looking back at him. She tilted her head and smirked.

"More woods, consider me impressed, Daryl." He shoves her arm lightly and his face flushes.

"Stop."

Daryl leads her further into the woods before suddenly stepping in front of her. She looks confused and he can't help but think her furrowed brows and scrunched nose is adorable.

"Close your eyes." She gives him a scrutinizing look but obliges with a dramatic sigh.

"Better be good, Daryl."

He leads her carefully through the forest. One hand on her arm and another on the small of her back, he leads her slowly over large rocks and overturned logs with care. Daryl gets more nervous the closer they get to their destination. Maybe it was a stupid idea, or she wouldn't like it. Maybe he'd dragged her out here and she wants to go home.

"Alright," Daryl says finally. "Open your eyes."

Y/N opens her eyes slowly, blinking a little at the sudden brightness after having her eyes closed so long. After a second, he smiles brightly, eye flitting around.

It was a clearing in the woods, shaded by surrounding trees and covered in flowers. Large bushes of different colored flowers bordered the clearing, with small patches of wild flowers covering the ground in the center. He'd found it on a solo hunt not long ago, and planned to take her since.

Y/N was surprisingly quiet. Ever since they'd starting talking, she'd opened up to him completely. She hasn't been this quiet since that first time they met, and it made Daryl unbearably anxious.

"So..?" Daryl asks, biting his thumb and looking between the woman and his shoes. He digs his boot in the dirt, scuffing the ground, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"It's..." she starts. Finally, after an agonizing few seconds, she looks at him. She walks up to him and gently takes his thumb from his mouth. He feels heat course through his face but he holds her gaze steadily, and lets her pull away his hand. "It's beautiful."

She turns from him and wanders deeper into the clearing. Daryl follows, almost in a daze. She's never looked so beautiful, smiling and almost giddy with joy, stroking different flowers as she walks past. Daryl is sure his heart is going to give out.

Finally, she lays down right in the center. She laughs and reaches a hand towards Daryl. He steps forward apprehensively, but after catching another look at her jovial face, he hurries to lay next to her.

They lay shoulder to shoulder for a while. Just basking in the light that's filtering through the trees. Y/N absentmindedly plays with a flower between her fingers with her eyes closed.

"I love it," she says lowly, cracking her eyes open to look at Daryl beside her. He smiles.

"Ain't nothin'..." She whacks his hand laying beside her halfheartedly.

"It's not." She leaves her hand right next to his, the contact sending electric shocks up his entire arm. Tentatively, Y/N begins to fold her fingers in his. Daryl looks over to find that she's still looking at him deeply, with that intense gaze Daryl is sure he'll never get used to. He intertwines their fingers, both still staring at each other with flushed cheeks and soft smiles.

     Daryl is sure who started what, but soon enough, their lips are touching. It's like a magnetic force, and Daryl can't resist. He touches her cheek softly, and he can feel her smile against him.

     Daryl can't get enough, he doesn't ever want to. They push up against each other until they're completely melted together, touching from head to toe. She languidly pushes her fingers through his hair, smiling harder against his lips when he makes a pleased hum.

     After some time, Y/N pulls away. She gives him a brilliant smile that makes him push one more kiss to her lips before he is ready to stop. She curls into his chest when he lays down again fully, and he gently runs his calloused fingers through her soft hair. She lefts out a comforted sigh.

“I don’t…” Daryl starts then pauses, breaking the silence. Y/N looks up from his chest, her fingers curled up in his shirt under his vest. “I don’t know… how to do this.”

“That’s ok,” she says with that soft, kind smile. She brushes hair away from his face and her closes his eyes for a second, relishing in the feeling. “We’ll figure it out together.”

They lay next to one another for a long while, even after the sun begins to set. Sharing caring and soft caresses and touches. Sometimes giving the other little shy smiles. It’s getting dark now, but the two still don’t want to part.

“Guess we should get home…” Daryl says reluctantly, his voice low and even grittier sounding than normal.

“Yeah, we should,” she replies, sinking further in his arms. Daryl smiles to himself and plants a shy kiss to her head. She lets out another content hum.

When they finally remove themselves from each other, they give each other shy smiles and glances. Y/N floats around the area one last time, picking a bundle of flowers before following Daryl to his bike.

Daryl watches her, how careful she is to the plants and how she walks around almost majestically. He thinks about how it was just a couple months ago she found her way into his life. She had called Alexandria home, and Daryl agreed, but now, just watching her meander through the clearing, he thinks that maybe home isn’t a place but a person.

When she gets to his bike, she opens up the little saddlebag to place her bundle of multicolored flowers. She suddenly frowns and looks over at Daryl.

“What?” He asks, nervously taking in her expression. She shakes her head and looks down, concern fretting her pretty features. Did she regret what just happened? Was she just now processing and she realized she didn’t want Daryl this way? She looks back up to meet Daryl’s eyes, still with that frown. Daryl wrings his hands.

“My damn bush is dead.”

[mysticalmallard]

Left and Found

Pairing: Abraham Ford x Fem Reader

Word count: 292

Description: Abe finds a lost woman in the forest

Warnings: none?

MainMasterlist || Rules & Requests

Abraham stood on the edge of the forest, surveying the area around him. In the distance, he spotted a figure struggling to make their way through the dense undergrowth. Abraham hesitated for a moment, knowing that the safest choice would be to keep moving and ignore the stranger's plight.

But something tugged at his conscience, and with a weary sigh, he began to make his way through the forest towards the figure. As he got closer, he realised that it was a woman who was struggling to move due to something wrong with her foot.

Abraham approached the woman cautiously, scanning the area for any signs of danger. “You all right?” he asked, his hand resting on his hatchet.

The woman looked up at him, her face etched with pain and exhaustion.“I think I twisted my ankle,” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain."My friends left me here said i was too slow"

"Your friends just left you here?" Abraham asked incredulously, kneeling down beside her to take a closer look at her ankle. "Why the hell would they do that?"

"I don't know, they left yesterday and took my bag said they needed more than me"

Abraham shook his head in disbelief, gently touching her swollen ankle.

"Bastards. They left you here defenseless and alone?"

The woman nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know what to do. I can't walk on my ankle and I don't have any supplies to sustain myself."

Abraham was torn. He knew he should keep moving, but the thought of leaving this woman alone and desperate tugged at his heart. "Alright," he said with a sigh, "I'll stay and help you. But first, let me figure out something to wrap that ankle."

[milkluvr333]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[pencil-n-pen]

I WANT AN INNOCENT LOVE

.☘︎ ݁˖

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alexandria! rick grimes x fawn! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: you’re a new addition to alexandria. Rick’s just looking out for his group. That’s the only reason he finds himself drawn to you. Nothing else.

cw: LEGAL age gap (it is big, i imagine reader in her early 20s) canon typical depictions of violence, Rick is kinda mean to reader at first, Rick kind of struggles with the age gap a little, dom! Rick, slight possessive rick

tags/tropes: shy and skittish reader, she’s not used to dealing with people but she’s not helpless, honestly she’s just a sweet and soft person who became what everyone becomes in the apocalypse, hurt/comfort, insecurity, touch-starved reader a bit, YEARNING, no saviors or whisperers just Rick and everyone living happily in alexandria. Daryl is also here and he’s kind of like ur uncle bc i love daryl and i say so

a/n: i have nothing to say other than this is so insanely self indulgent it’s not even funny. nobody asked for this but writing it has kept me sane while i’m couch ridden. everything is terrible rn but rick grimes <3333

songs i listened to while writing: We'll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross, Work Song by Hozier (Rick's theme song) you were mine by Esha Tewari, Do I Wanna Know- Hozier's Cover, Somethin' Stupid by Nancy & Frank Cinatra, Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley (i'm so not normal about that entire album) Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers, Little Bit by Lykke Li (the original not the remix)

title taken from Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers

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₊ ⊹❀

You were just a little thing when you showed up at the gates.

All wide-eyed and skittish at the tree-line, clothes hanging awkwardly off your frame. Scuffed and dirty, when Rick goes up to the tower to scout you out.

You don’t quite come close enough for anyone to get any kind of information on you. Name, age, where you’ve been, what you’re doing at the gates.

These are all questions Rick, as leader, needs answers to.

If he could just convince you to get close enough.

Under different circumstances, he’d just let you do whatever it is you’re planning on doing, but the lurking is starting to make people uneasy. And he figured he ought to do something to ease their concerns. Easiest way is to either get you inside the walls or find answers to those questions.

You’re real good at staying out of reach, though. And you never stay in one place for long. By the time two weeks have gone by, you’ve made it around the entire length of the walls. Just to end up right where you started: the gates.

It’s just past the crack of dawn- dew is still lingering on the plants and grass and the sun’s rays have yet to actually provide warmth. Rick is up, making his rounds and checking in when one of the guards on rotation lets him know that you’re at the gates. Only time you’ve ever been that close.

So they’re opened, and you amble in— light-footed and unsure. Honestly, you remind him a bit of Daryl with your obvious hesitance to be in the company of other people and clear inclination towards nature. But where Daryl is hard edges and reclusiveness, you’re… softer.

A small group of people —curious onlookers, mostly— forms behind Rick as he saunters towards you, and he watches the moment you see the reality of your decision and begin to regret it.

He comes to a stop a few feet away from you, letting the silence hang in the air for a bit.

He finally takes you in with his own two eyes, without the aid of the binoculars, and he examines. Catalogs the nervous twitch of your hands and scuffs and scrapes he can see on the visible scraps of skin. Eyes the way you worry your lip between your teeth and can’t decide if you’re going to keep staring at him or look away- your mind clearly torn between vigilance and submission.

“You finish your tour of Alexandria?” He asks dryly.

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Are you the leader of this safe-zone?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

You begin fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. The small motion draws his attention back to your hands, where me notices bandaids practically covering the entire surface of your skin. He files the information away in his head for later.

“Are you currently accepting new members?”

He can’t help but crack a smile at your question. The way you phrase it and your nervous demeanor remind him so much of the times before the dead started walking— you look like a college student looking for a job, not somebody trying to find refuge here, after the end of the world.

“Depends,” He rests his hands on his hips, and he notes the way your eyes dart to the gun at his side before back up to him, “You got any skills to offer? You alone? Or do you got a group waitin’ for you?”

Your lip is raw from where you release it from your teeth.

“I’m really good at mending. I’m a proficient hunter. I can hold my own in a fight. And I’m alone.”

At the admittance of your lack of company, you shift back a few steps, a subtle re-distribution of weight.

Ain’t been socialized a whole bunch, Rick thinks to himself. He’s willing to bet you either don’t have a lot of positive experiences with large groups of people or you just plain ain’t been around em’ much.

He hums. “You killed anybody?”

“Walkers or live?”

“Either.”

You shift your shoulders. He’s starting to wonder just how many nervous actions you have.

“I don’t think anybody lives alone who hasn’t killed walkers.”

“And the living?”

You don’t move, but your eyes look to the ground, not at him.

Shame. Fear.

“Twice.”

“How come?”

“They wanted my supplies. Wanted me dead. I decided I didn’t want to die.”

He looks you over again. You really are a cute little thing. He thinks, absentmindedly in the back of his head, that something like you shouldn’t have bloody, bandaid covered hands. Shouldn’t have a kill count.

But he dismisses the thought. The end of the world leaves no room for those unwilling to do what’s necessary.

He dips his head. “We’ll get you settled in,” He jerks his head to the some of the guys behind him. “They’ll get you sorted out. Get along, now.”

You slink past him, distance carefully measured as you go.

Your eyes don’t quite leave him, though. There’s a moment- either you pause or his mind slows. Maybe a bit of both. But the air stills, and your gaze locks on him for the first time since he saw you, nestled in that tree line. The memory is clear and vivid- the sun shining through the trees, dappling you in shades of amber and grey. And then he’s here, and you’re looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and the sun has risen just enough that it casts a similar glow, the only difference now he can see up close just how the light catches on your face, just how he knows your features would look so different, so much softer if you were cleaned, if someone minded the cuts and scrapes.

And then you step away, and he snaps out of his reverie. He blinks a few times at your retreating form, shakes his head, and then busy’s himself with other work. There’s always something to be done.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the image of you gazing up at him, bathed in the early morning sun out of his mind.

—

A few days pass, and Rick sees little of you. He’s almost positive it’s on purpose. The few times he does see you, you look scared. And then, generally, you manage to make some sort of fleet-footed escape. The repeated spotting and fleeing reminds him of the time he accompanied Daryl on a hunt and startled a doe.

He can’t quite figure out why you’re afraid of him, though. He remembers being fairly decent to you when you arrived, and tried coaxing you towards the gates politely before you’d shown up on your own.

The sight of your scared expression ends up stuck fast in his head, usually super-imposed over the image of you on that morning at the gates. Two different versions of you, neither making any sort of sense.

He decides that it’s probably best that he stick away, if he scares you. You’ll settle, your ruffled feathers’ll smooth.

And he’ll stop thinking about you.

—

Neither do you settle or does he stop thinking about you.

He watches you from a distance, careful. You just… don’t relax. Ever. You creep away from every possible opportunity to connect with others like it might grow jaws and bite- you shrink back or freeze. Like you think if you play dead, if you don’t move, they’ll leave you alone.

He’s wondering what you hoped to accomplish by seeking refuge in Alexandria if this is how you act. You’re going to have a bad go of things if this is your plan. Or maybe you plain haven’t even thought that far.

He snags Daryl’s arm as he passes by.

“Wha—“

“The new girl,” Is all Rick says, still watching you remarkably avoid everyone who passes you. “She’s real skittish.”

Daryl follows his eyeline, finding you easy enough.

“Mm. She ain’t settlin’?”

“No.”

Daryl just hums again. “Well, she ain’t got nobody, does she?”

“So?”

The hunter shrugs. “Can’t relax. Ain’t got nobody to watch her back, take a watch. She’ll settle. Might take her a bit of time.”

Rick huffs. “She’s afraid of me.”

“No she ain’t,” Daryl snorts, “And since when does Rick Grimes care whether other people like him well enough?”

Rick doesn’t respond, just keeps watching you.

Daryl follows Rick’s gaze, then breathes out a low sigh.

“She is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

“That is not what this is about.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Sure it’s not.“

“She’s half my age. I could damn well be her father.”

“But ya ain’t.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Rick?” Daryl sighs again, crossing his arms. “Either do something about it or move on. You got too many people dependin’ on ya for you to be eyeing up flighty young girls.”

Rick rolls his shoulders. “You make me out to be such a creep.”

The other man claps him on the shoulder. “Then stop acting like one.”

He attempts to take Daryl’s advice to heart. It’s an annoying truth that Daryl always knows exactly what Rick needs to hear. Not necessarily what he wants to hear, but what needs to be said.

And he is being creepy. He shakes his head as he walks away. Watching you, thinking about you. He can’t. That’s— you’re too young to be thinking any kind of thing like that.

No matter how there’s this half second, before you look scared, where you almost look relieved. No matter how he wants to personally take care of the bumps and scrapes on your face, wants to take off the bandaids and examine what’s beneath them.

Daryl was right. He needs to focus. Carl, Judith, everyone- they need him.

You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

—

You’ve gone missing.

Rick has been doing his best to heed Daryl’s advice— he stopped looking for you in the crowds, stopped trying to figure you out, stopped watching you from afar. He even made a fairly decent attempt to stop thinking about you. Not that the effort proves especially fruitful, but he tried, damnit.

All of those efforts go straight out the window when Daryl tells him that no one’s seen you since yesterday.

It takes him two seconds to grab his gun and follow Daryl out the door.

He barely remembers to tell Carl where he’s going, which scares him, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s been so invasive to his mind and day-to-day activities about you. Your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, how you might feel in his hands.

They cloud his judgment. Make him do stupid reckless things like search Alexandria high and low for any sign of you.

He doesn’t find any. He searches the place you’re staying— nothing. Only sign of life is the unmade bed and bandaid wrappers in the trashcan by the bed.

He sighs deep and low as he stands over your bed. “Think she had enough? High-tailed it?”

Daryl leans against the doorway. “Nah. She likes it here well enough. She ain’t stupid enough to leave a good thing like this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to her?”

Daryl shrugs. “Few times. She don’t like talkin’ too much, but I think she figures her and I similar.”

“She wrong?”

He scratches his beard. “A little. She fears situations and people the way a prey animal does. S’ why she’s a runner.”

Rick mulls Daryl’s words over as they scan the rest of the place but, of course, find nothing. There are no signs that you, specifically, live here. Nothing personal. Just the unmade bed and the bandaid wrappers in the trashcan.

The pair of them turn the entirety of Alexandria over in a matter of hours. He’s just about to call it quits, either wait for you to come back or send out a search in the morning when Daryl comes back over, telling him you’re at the gates.

As in, outside of them.

Opposite of how things went when you first showed up at the gates, people clear a path as he stalks towards you. They give the pair of you a nice, wide bubble. Even Daryl stays a few feet behind him.

The first thing he notices is that you’re covered in blood. From the way you’re holding yourself, most of it isn’t your own. There’s a backpack slung over your shoulder, but it’s not your usual one.

You won’t meet his eyes.

He stops an arms length away from you. “Where the hell were you?”

You shift backwards, away from him ever so slightly. “Scavenging.”

“Mhm, interestin’,” He says, rubbing his jaw, “Because the last scavenging party was yesterday. And you came back with everybody, so I’ll ask again. Where were you.”

Your eyes flick up from the ground for a moment, eying the people that have gathered to stare. He watches you mentally count them all, then attempt to put more distance between yourself and everybody else. Emphasis on attempt, because the second you take a step back, you stumble, wincing before righting yourself and going right back to scanning the crowd.

He works his jaw, anger and annoyance simmering just under the surface of his skin. He’s not going to get anything out of you here.

He grabs your wrist and turns, set in the direction of the medics.

He drags you along behind him, ignoring the little huffs or sharp intakes of pain when you walk a little too hard or too fast on your bad ankle.

You trip a few times as you go, and when you almost take Rick down with you, he sighs, pausing and turning.

The expression you give him is full of fear. He realizes, in the moment, that you might not remember where the medics are, so as far as you know, he’s angry at you and dragging you to a secluded area.

Guilt strikes him hard and fast, right in his chest.

Damn.

It’s too early to feel guilty about the random girl he allowed into Alexandria. Frightened eyes and shy nature aside.

He shakes his head once. “We’re going to see a doctor. Here, put your arm around me.”

He has to lower himself a little for you to drape your arm across the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush his shoulder, and he can feel the way you’re shaking.

It’s slow going from then on, with Rick acting as your crutches.

“Where were you? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Scavenging.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” You nudge the backpack still strapped to your back. “I was… looking for something. I can’t look for it with the others.”

“What the hell is it that you can’t look for it with the others?”

“A body.”

Your response hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

“…Family or friend?”

“Friend. Haven’t found her yet.”

Something clicks into place in his mental file about you. He feels like he just gained a new piece of the puzzle.

He readjusts your weight over his shoulder, tucking you a little closer and steadfastly pretending he doesn’t hear the little gasp you let out at the contact. Whether it was from pain or surprise, he can’t let himself think about it.

“Don’t go out by yourself. If you need to look, take Daryl with you.”

You sag a bit into him. “Okay.”

He glances down at you from the corner of his eye. You’re… pliant. You’d agreed quickly, and showed absolutely no fight or unwillingness when he, admittedly, manhandled you. You’d followed dutifully behind him and then simply allowed him to position your arms the way he wanted them.

There’s another little parasite that burrows into his brain right there. Right as he’s got you in his grip.

He slows to a stop, a little question forming in his head. He slips the arm that had been wrapped around your waist away, instead curls his fingers across your chin and jaw. He tilts your head up, looks down at your face, searching it for… something.

He meets no resistance. You only stare up at him, doe eyes blinking. He tilts your head to the left, then to right, and still, nothing.

Huh.

He lets go, and you shudder, a full body shiver. And he thinks, in this moment, that he could do whatever he wanted, and you might let him. He could break you, like this.

It’s a very dangerous thing, he decides. Because he doesn’t want to break you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to peel back the bandaids and see what’s under them. He wants to scrub the dirt from your face and give you soft clothes —his clothes— not those tattered rags that hang off your body.

You might let him do whatever he wants, but you’re the one who holds this power over him. You’re the one who made him sick— filled his head and clouded his judgement and made him the kind of man he never used to be.

But he can’t say any of that. Can’t even act on it. Not with someone young enough to be his daughter. He has a daughter for Christ’s sake. And a son.

So he just wraps his arm back around your waist and helps you to the medics.

—

“Rick,” Daryl says one afternoon, leaned on the post on the porch, “You’re drivin’ me crazy, here.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that.”

“The fawn.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The fawn?”

“You know. That nervous little thing you keep pretendin’ you don’t want in your bed.”

“Daryl.”

The man just keeps fiddling with his crossbow. “What?”

“I can’t just— she’s half my age.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I got kids to think about, and—“

“Carl don’t give a shit and Judith is ten. Only thing she’s concerned about is sneakin’ sweets.”

He entertains the notion in his head, thinks about what pursuing you might be like.

Something occurs to him.

“She ever get close to you?”

“No,” Daryl huffs, always knowing exactly what Rick means, “Keeps about an arm’s distance away. No matter what. She’s been inchin’ closer recently, but not by much.”

His hand on your face, moving it this way and that without any resistance at all, your body pliant in his grip—

“Hm,” Is all Rick says, crossing his arms.

“Why fawn?”

Daryl shrugs. “Looks like one. Kinda acts like one, around you.”

“No she doesn’t.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Yes, she does. And based on the way you’ve been actin’, you like it.”

He opens his mouth to refute the point because no, he doesn’t like it, he just constantly thinks about how far he could take it, what you would let him do, if he could make you his.

And then he thinks ‘oh.’ Maybe he does like it.

He drops his hands to his hips. “What exactly am I supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know. Ain’t my area of expertise.”

“You’re the one who knows her better, said I was drivin’ you crazy.”

“So? I don’t know jack shit about romance, Rick.”

“Well, you keep calling her a fawn. How different can it be?”

Very different, his mind supplies. You know that.

Now it’s Daryl’s turn to sigh. “Don’t overwhelm her. She’s a nervous little thing, but she likes you. Once she figures out you ain’t gonna hurt her, she’ll latch on.”

“That’s specific. You deal with fawns a lot?”

He snorts. “No. I’m fuckin’ guessin’ here.”

The two men fall into silence, Daryl fiddling or cleaning his bow— Rick ain’t paying that much attention to him.

He’s thinking about you. You, you, you. Your eyes and your face and your hands and the figure you carefully keep hidden under layers of clothing, even under the hot Virginia sun.

Fawn, he thinks to himself.

Fitting.

—

He doesn’t make a plan or something stupid like that. He just thinks. And then he decides.

“You’re really coming with us?” Glenn asks, pack slung over his shoulder.

“Yep,” Rick says, holstering his gun, “Goin’ stir crazy in there. Just needa get out for a bit.”

You’re quiet as you get your things in order, but the group doesn’t bat an eye. They’re used to your silence, it seems.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, though. You look away every time you think he’s looking at you, but he’s good at looking at you out of the corner of his eye, so he sees it.

Throughout the run, you hover near him, never quite going out of range of his field of vision. He’s impressed by how quietly and efficiently you work- you spot things even he wouldn’t have. All the while watching for walkers, and of course, subtly eyeing Rick.

Despite being the leader, he heads up the back and watches for stragglers. He didn’t really come out cause he was stir-crazy, anyway.

He came out for you. He wanted to watch you work, wanted to do it with you.

To your credit, you work well with the others. You’re a woman of few words with them, but you help where you can and stay civil. Even if you don’t quite get close to any of them.

Except Rick.

As they’re scavenging an abandoned house, a few walkers shuffle out from the trees. Not enough to be a problem— the group outnumbers them easy. But you’re all busy getting supplies and he’s trying to keep an eye out, so he takes them out, one by one.

It really isn’t a huge thing for him, couple walkers ain’t really a big deal, but you notice.

Your eyes are trained on him, clothes now dirty with blood and gore.

He tilts his head, then makes his way over to you.

“You, um,” You say as he gets closer, voice a little hoarse, “Are you alright?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a few walkers to take me out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He snorts a little laugh. “You ain’t too good at this whole conversation thing, huh?”

You flush, looking away. “Sorry. I’m just not… used to having them.”

You look up at him, earnest. “But I’ve been practicing!”

Oh, lord have mercy over his poor soul. You’ve done a full 180– turned from being afraid of him to very obviously wanting his approval.

“That’s good, that’s good. Who you been practicin’ with?”

“Daryl.”

“Now, that ain’t no good.”

You frown, shifting in place. “It’s not?”

“Well, it’s good that you’re tryin’,” He amends, “But Daryl ain’t good for conversation practicin’. He’s a little too much like you. Much too inclined to just sit in silence.”

“Oh.”

You pause, taking your lip between your teeth and mulling something over in your head.

“Would you, um.” You look up at him, clearly nervous.

And he can’t help himself really, from leaning down into your space a bit, a low “Hmm?” humming from his chest.

Your reaction is instant. This close, he can see the exact moment a flush crawls across your face, to even the tips of your ears.

And he’d suspected, you know, based on your behavior with him. But this— cold hard evidence that he makes you nervous. That you want him on you.

It’s cute. Real cute.

You steel yourself against your own nervousness, and he wants to coo at you.

“Would you practice with me?”

He leans back against the post, slides his hands into his pockets. “Course. Ain’t much to it.”

You smile. It’s small, a quiet sort of thing, but it’s there. He made you smile.

You gesture to the house behind you. “I’m. Gonna go back to scavenging. Um. Thanks.”

You turn on your heel, fleeing back into the house. He watches you go, something settling right into place in his chest.

You stick a little closer to him for the rest of the run.

—

After that day, you begin seeking him out. You don’t approach him right away, preferring to to trail behind him for a little bit before finally making a move.

The move being a quiet: “Hi, Rick.”

Today’s no different, other than it being a little later when you do find him. He’s taking a little stroll around, as is his usual. It… settles him, to see everything alright with his own two eyes.

Settles him even more when he hears the quiet patter of your footsteps behind him.

He chuckles. “Afternoon, darlin’.”

Your foot steps speed up, fall into step somewhat beside him. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hi,” He says, smile tugging at his lips. “How was your day?”

You clasp your hands behind your back as you walk. “Good. Weren’t many walkers on today’s run. I got something for Judith.”

“Oh? Let’s see it, then.”

You take something out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

It’s a pocket knife. One of those multi-tool ones.

And it’s pink.

“I know it’s a cliche, the girls knife being pink, and she is only ten, but I saw it and I thought of her, and—“

“It’s perfect,” He interrupts before you can start spiraling. “She’s gonna love it.”

You deflate almost instantly. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure.”

You walk for a few minutes before remembering the point of you coming up to him.

“Um. How was your day?”

He huffs a little, too fond to be upset. “Fairly decent. Ain’t got too much going on now.”

“That’s… good?”

He shrugs. “Just a little borin’. How’s that ankle of yours?”

This is usually how your conversations go. A few easy, back and forth questions. Easing you into talking to people, keeping conversations going. You’ve slowly gotten more confident. You talk a little longer, voice sounds a little more expressive.

“Fine.” You say, a little too quickly.

He narrows his eyes. “Really? No pain at all?”

It’s the looking away that sells it. You never look at him when you’re lying. Can’t stand to.

“No. It’s fine.”

He kicks his foot out a little, the toe of his boot just barely catching your ankle.

It’s a little more effective than he wanted. You let out a little yelp of pain and stumble forward, ankle almost immediately buckling.

He darts forward, catching you under the stomach with one arm.

You hang there a little, arms dangling.

“Fine, huh?” He hefts you up, so you’re back to standing upright, though now, visibly favoring your ankle. “So what’d the doctor tell you when I dropped you off?”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“And which of those four have you been ignorin’?”

“…”

“Hey,” He says, tapping the side of your jaw with two fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

“All of them,” You wince, “I just didn’t want to be useless. I can walk on it fine. You haven’t even noticed until now!”

Your voice goes a little high at the end, a little desperate.

He thinks about how animals that are lower on the food rung don’t show pain. A deer will break a leg and keep walking until it drops, till it slows too much and something picks it off.

But you ain’t an animal, and nothing’s gonna pick you off.

“That’s true,” He says, “But that don’t make it right. You’re just prolonging the healing process.”

You look down. “…You were mad. I didn’t want to make you more upset by being useless.”

Ah. So that’s what it’s all about.

His approval, once again.

“I’d rather have you useless for a week than useless forever because you didn’t rest properly,” He ignores the hypocrisy of it, the fact that he’s ignored medical advice more times than he can count.

“I really am fine, mostly,” You say meekly, “It’s stopped hurting when I walk. It’s just a little unstable.”

“I still want you taking it easy for a little, you hear me?”

You nod.

“Nah,” He moves, standing in front of you, more than a little in your personal space, “I wanna hear you say it. Use your words.”

It’s a little test of sorts. To see how you’ll respond. What you’ll say. If you’ll listen.

You swallow, eyelashes fluttering. “I hear you. I understand.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Take it easy.”

“That’s right,” You’ve been nice and obedient, so he figures you deserve a little reward. “Good girl.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your eyes get a little glassy.

Aw, that’s all you wanted. Just wanted to be someone’s good girl.

His good girl.

He nods towards your place. “Get along, now. Do I have to walk you to your door?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll go. I will. Uh— bye.”

He watches you scamper away, gait a little uneven, hands clenched at your sides.

I can get used to this.

—

It becomes a little thing, after that.

When you’re not busy with your own responsibilities, you’re usually with him. Either right beside him, or trailing a few feet behind. Your company is quiet and calm, like waves from a lake lapping gently at the shore.

You also begin to settle in with the rest of the group. You’re still more inclined to be near Rick or, if he’s not available, Daryl, but once you become comfortable talking with people, Maggie and Glenn are quickly added to your slowly growing roster of safe people.

Judith has loved you ever since she found out that you’re the one who gave her the most beloved pink pocket knife, and enjoys babbling and talking your ear off about nothing the way that ten year olds do.

Carl grows to appreciate your presence too, finding solace in the fact that you don’t feel the need to fill silence with conversation.

You still act different when Rick is around, though. Especially when it’s just the two of you.

With everybody else, you’re subtly but very strictly independent- despite growing close with the group, you still maintain a slight distance with most of them, and prefer doing things yourself, by yourself. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

But when you’re alone, just Rick and you, those hard edges soften, and your little personal bubble pops. He’s steadily growing obsessed with the change.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Having such a cute little thing follow him around, hanging off his words. Most days, it’s all he can do not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed.

And then one day, he does. Kind of.

It must be the middle of the night, but the second he hears the knock at his door, he’s wide awake.

He hushes both Carl and Judith back to bed, then creeps to the front door with his hand on his gun. He has never, in his entire life, been awoken in the middle of the night to good news.

When he opens the door he sees you. And Daryl, but he’s really focused on you. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, you’re wearing a strange combination of sleep clothes and the clothes he’s seen you wear to do runs. Your boots are on, but not tied.

“Wha—“

“Caught her sneaking towards the gates, all shaken up. Figured it’d be wiser to take her here then back to her place.”

Daryl pats your head once. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

Then Daryl’s gone, and you’re standing on Rick’s porch, still crying.

“Alright, come here now.”

He barely manages to get the door closed before you fall into him, face pressed to his chest and hands grasping the front of his shirt.

He hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his arms around you.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright now.”

He presses one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you tucked close as you crack, just a little bit, nearly silent tears staining his shirt and tremors wracking your body.

Eventually, he guides you over to the couch, situates himself before helping you into a more comfortable position. He wraps your arms around his neck, your legs draped across his lap and the couch.

He keeps one hand pressed to your neck, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.

He presses his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deep and slow, a curl of satisfaction rising in his chest when you unconsciously mimic his breathing, silent sobs slowing, tremors fading.

Once you’ve calmed down enough, he speaks.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh? What happened sweetheart?”

The pet name slips out of his mouth unbidden, but honestly, he wouldn’t take it back.

“Nightmare,” You sniffle. “Daryl was gone and it was my fault and you hated me.”

“Well, none of that happened now, did it?”

You shake your head.

“No, that’s right. Daryl’s just fine, and I ain’t upset with you. You’re alright.”

You take in a few shaky, shuddering breaths.

He shifts, readjusting and tucking you closer to him. “Now, how come you didn’t come to me? Daryl said you were headin’ to the gates.”

You go a little rigid. “Didn’t think I was allowed. Didn’t want to wake you up for something stupid.”

“Oh, none of that now,” He nudges you away a little, taking your face in his hands. He needs eye-contact while he says this, “You need something, you come to me. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what time it is. You come to me, you understand?”

You nod, lip wobbling a bit. “I understand.”

He thumbs your cheekbone. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

In the morning, the kids are a little surprised to see your rumpled form at the kitchen table, but both recover fairly quickly. Judith especially, who rejoices at the prospect of someone other than Carl or her father whom she can hold hostage with inane, ten year old questions.

But you never quite shake that haunted look in your eyes. Like there was something else— something more in that nightmare, something that dug its little claws in and stuck fast.

It’s all he can do but pray it doesn’t last.

—

It becomes an unspoken thing that wherever Rick is, you’re nearby. Kind of like a little puppy, following him about and hoping for a treat.

He indulges you, because he can’t really help himself in the face of those eyes.

He also knows it’s the easiest way to get you to smile, which he’s been trying to bring about more, since the nightmare. You’ve shaken that haunted expression for the most part, but every now and then, it’ll come back, if just for a few moments.

You’ve been absent most of the day today, off on a run, and he wishes it didn’t get under his skin so much to not have his favorite girl right there behind him.

You’re his stress relief, and you don’t even know it. Don’t even do anything really, just kind of linger about with your adorable little face and occasionally help with your cute little hands. He’s hopelessly obsessed.

You’re smiling when you get back, bee-lining straight for him.

“Well, well,” He says, resting his hands on his hips, “What do we have here?”

“I got you something,” You say, practically vibrating with excitement, slinging your backpack off and rifling through it.

“Oh, something for me? Can’t wait to see it.”

You pull an honest to god polaroid camera out of your bag.

“You said once that you wished you had pictures of your kids to carry with you, and I found this, and it still works, and it still has film in it. I checked.”

You thrust it out to him, and he extracts it carefully from your hands, holding it with an almost reverence.

A camera. A working film camera.

You shuffle in place, and he realizes he’s been staring at it in silence for more than a few minutes. “…Do you like it?”

“I love it,” He says honestly, voice just a little scratchy, because he doesn’t understand how someone can survive the zombie apocalypse, and still end up so damn kind, and so damn sweet. “I’m so touched, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him. If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it. He’s never understood cuteness aggression until this very moment. He just can’t. He wants to squeeze you as hard as he can or just punch a wall or some stupid shit.

God, he’s pushing forty, he needs to get this under control.

“I was really excited when I found it. Tara took a picture of me to test it.”

You pull out a little polaroid picture, film developed, and he takes that with reverence too. In the picture, you’re smiling, that same soft, little smile you do when you’re really happy about something and don’t know how to express it. Your hands show two peace signs, a knife clutched in one.

That’s my girl, he thinks.

“Might just have to keep this,” He says, dumb smile on his face.

“Really?”

“Really. You know, it’s good luck to keep a picture of a pretty girl with you.”

“Pretty?” You squeak, flushing. It’s so easy to make you flustered. He loves it.

“Mhm,” He says, tucking the photo into one of the compartments on his belt, keeping it safe. “Real pretty, I’d say.”

“Oh.” You say, more than a little breathless. “Um.”

Oh, your poor little brain.

“You need a minute?” He snorts.

“Maybe?”

He chuckles, patting the top of your head. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Better get used to it.”

“You’re pretty too,” You blurt, then your eyes widen comically. “No, wait, I meant—“

He laughs, a real, actual laugh. “Me, a grown ass man- pretty. That’s a good one.”

You bury your face in your hands, a tiny little whine escaping your throat.

“Aw, come on, now. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m very flattered you think I’m pretty.”

“S’ not what I meant.” You mumble.

“No?” He says, prying your hands off your face. “What’d you mean, then?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re… handsome.” You whisper the last part, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Aw, what’d I do to deserve a young thing like you thinking an old man like me is handsome?”

You mumble something again, a little too quiet for him to hear.

“…afe.”

He leans down. “What was that, now?”

“You’re safe.”

Oh.

That’s… not the answer he was expecting.

But he likes it.

Rick is a leader. A protector.

And you need him.

“I make you feel safe?” He hums, resisting the urge to step closer to you because you’re very much out in the open and he knows how you feel about wide open spaces, especially when there’s people in them. He’s torturing you enough as it is. “That why you linger around me, huh?”

Feeling bolder at his interest, you nod.

“You make me feel like… something special. Protected.”

Yes.

He’s always known that he needs to be needed. That he’s the kind of man who requires being a leader, taking care of what’s his, protecting.

To have verbal confirmation that he’s made you feel safe, protected, it’s.

Well it’s a lot more than he can unpack in front of the gates.

“Pretty little thing like you needs protectin’.”

You frown.

“Not because you’re incapable,” He amends, hands raised, “But because I rather like doing it.”

You lean closer, and he follows, heat rising—

“Please, save us all the pain of havin’ to watch, Rick.”

He grins, nose brushing yours, then steps back.

“Maybe stop creepin’ around, Daryl.” He calls to the other man, who just shrugs, ambling on by.

But Daryl does have a point. He doesn’t want an audience. You’re not that kind of girl.

Instead, he reaches down, snakes an arm around your waist and leads you away from the open space, towards his house instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Think you’d rather be somewhere quiet for what I’m about to do.”

The heat radiating from your body and the shiver he feels under his palm is all the confirmation he needs.

His little fawn, finally his.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[feral4daryl]

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

[daddydixonscrossbow]

It was early in the morning. You hear the door open a few second after Dog jumped down off the bed.

That meant one thing - Daryl was finally home.

He had been on a run for the last two days, and you missed him like crazy. You pulled yourself out of bed, padding over to the door and walking down the steps.

Daryl looks up at you while scratching Dog’s head, “Didn’t wake ya, did i?”

You shake your head, “No. I haven’t been sleeping well since you left.”

He quietly tells Dog to get down before walking over to you, pressing his lips to his, “M’home now, go get some sleep, baby.”

You nod, yawning as you turn back around, “C’mon, Dog.”

“Go get mom. I’ll be in in a minute, boy.” Daryl motions for Dog to follow you and he does. He stands at the top of the steps, waiting for you to reach them before running in and jumping on the bed.

A little bit later, you heard the bedroom door push open and close quietly. Daryl chuckles as he sees Dog laid up under your arm and slowly climbs into the bed behind you.

“Ya asleep?” Daryl whispers as he moves to press his body against yours, his arm laying over your waist. You let out a sigh, “No, but I will be here soon.”

He plants a kiss on the back of your head, “I love you.”

You smile, turning your head so you can get a real kiss, “I love you. M’glad you’re home safe.” He nods, reaching up to brush his hand over your hair, “Me too.”

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’💋

[janiehellion]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon was a quiet but curious young man—shy, inexperienced, and way more innocent than you’d expect. It was just you, him, and... a vibrator.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Virgin!Daryl Dixon ⋮ Smut ⋮ Language ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Sex Toys ⋮ Mention Of Drugs & Alcohol ⋮ Dub-Con

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 6.925 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: Pre-Apocalypse AU 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Reader

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @dixongrimesgirl

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

The Chattahoochee was a whole different level of disgusting, even for a bar so close to the deep woods of Georgia. Low ceilings, broken lights, and the smell of piss and beer were present in every corner. Regulars stumbled in every night and day, a lot of them already drunk or high, but most of them?

Both.

It was the kind of place that was sticky no matter how much bleach you poured on it and where you could smell the bad life decisions coming from a mile away.

You worked behind the bar, pouring shots of moonshine and avoiding the greedy touches of men like it was just another part of the job. Which, in a place like this, it practically was. Located in the heart of the most godforsaken area of Georgia, it was the perfect place for the kind of people you’d rather not run into at any time.

Safe to say, Merle Dixon had been hitting on you since day one, coming at you with even worse pickup lines while high on who knows what. He'd lean over the counter, smirking, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. "Hey, sugar tits, gimme 'nother," he’d laugh, putting a half-torn dollar on the bar like it was supposed to impress you.

"Watch the damn language, Dixon, or that’ll be your last drink for tonight," you’d answer, not even looking up as you poured him another shot.

"Hey, c'mon now," he’d answer you, "don't be like that. Ya know ya wanna gimme a shot at somethin’ else, don't ya?" He'd grin further, which seemed more lustful than charming, his eyes staring at your tits like they belonged there at all times.

You'd roll your eyes and shove the glass across the bar with a little more force than necessary. "In your damn dreams, Dixon. And keep your damn eyes up here, or I’m gonna rip ‘em outta your damn skull," you’d warn, but not entirely without sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time he behaved like that, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Then there was Daryl, his little brother, always standing or sitting nearby, almost like a shadow, or rather, like someone who didn't belong in a place like that. He wasn’t the type to come up and throw a pickup line at you; hell, he barely spoke at all. Just stood back while Merle tried to flirt with you, as if he was embarrassed to even be there.

You’d catch Daryl looking at you with these sideways glances, his arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for whatever bullshit his brother might do next. Or maybe he was scared, and he just had no clue what to do with a girl who would throw a bottle at someone's head and talk filthier than any man in the bar.

One night, Merle was high on meth that had his pupils blown wide, and he was drunk as always. "Y'know, darlin'," he slurred, leaning far over the bar, "I could make your night real fuckin' interestin’. Got a little somethin' else with me that’ll loosen ya up for some fun." He took out a tiny baggie—powder—white and unmistakable.

"Fuck off, Merle," you said with a smirk. "Go snort that shit somewhere else, where I don’t have to watch your annoying ass. Ain't your damn babysitter." You were used to it, but he was starting to piss you off more than usual. "And don’t even think about offering it to anyone else inside this hellhole. Last thing I need is you getting the whole damn bar high. Do that outside, with those who are probably shitting all over themselves right now."

Meanwhile, Daryl was sitting on a stool nearby, again, his eyes looking from you to his brother. You couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked, the way he watched Merle and every other person around. There was always something different about him—he was quieter, more... soft. The kind of guy who stood back and kept his head down.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Merle," Daryl mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. But he seemed to be sick of the whole scene. Not that Merle ever listened, or would ever listen to him.

No, Merle just rolled his eyes before shoving the baggie back into his pocket, not even looking in the direction of his brother, keeping his focus only on you... and your tits. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just tryin’ to show ya a good time for once." He grabbed his drink and stumbled off, probably to piss in a bush outside, and you were left with Daryl, who still just sat there.

Some time later, you grabbed a dirty rag and started wiping the bar down, side-eyeing him. "You gonna say somethin’, or just keep sittin' there?" You teased, soon throwing the rag under the counter and pouring him another drink.

He shrugged, looking away, clearly not sure what to do with himself. "Ain’t like I could stop him if he tried anythin’," he mumbled, looking down into his glass.

"If he tried, he'd go home without his dick. Not that it'd make much of a difference for him," you said back, smirking at him and trying to get him to loosen up a bit. "You come here just to watch me shut him down every night?"

It was a half-serious question, but you knew the answer. Daryl wasn’t like the other assholes—he didn’t hit on you, didn’t try to grab your ass or tits when you passed by, and never once called you some stupid nickname like sugar tits.

"I… jus' end up 'ere," he said awkwardly, his fingers tapping down on the counter. "Ain’t got much else to do."

"Well, at least you’re not tryin’ to snort coke off my tits or ass," you answered, making him go red in the face.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and you couldn’t help but find it kind of adorable.

"You know, since you come here enough, Dixon 2.0," you continued, "might as well help me close up sometime and throw the rest of these assholes outta here. Would get you a drink on the house."

It was just a passing suggestion, a simple idea, but his eyes looked up, like he was considering it, and for once, he actually looked into yours. Not in that drooling, perverted way his older brother did, but with curiosity. "Maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno."

"You know what? Just think about it."

And so, the routine went on. Merle would walk in, and Daryl would sit nearby, quietly sipping his own drink while keeping an eye on his brother. And secretly, on you.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different. Somehow, you’d gotten him here, in your home, alone, without Merle, who was probably stinking of booze and piss all over again somewhere. His brother must have gotten his hands on something strong, or whatever it was, it gave you the perfect excuse.

You’d leaned in close while Daryl was mumbling about his brother and told him he should come over; maybe help you with something, and you told him it was important. You hadn’t even needed to lie all that much—he’d just nodded, eyes wide and nervous, and here he was, following you home like a little boy.

When he got to your place, he just stood there, all tense, and moving from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to put himself. And you—well, you liked watching him squirm and being nervous, knowing well you were the one making him feel like that.

Daryl wasn’t even in the door for five seconds before you threw your bag on the floor, walking inside without saying anything else. No pretenses, no "make yourself at home." You didn’t bother with shit like that. If he was here, he was here on your terms, and you weren’t about to treat him like a guest.

"C’mon in," you said, standing next to the door to finally close it.

You saw him gulp, eyes looking around like he was searching for a quick exit he could use just in case, but finding nothing but trouble. So he nodded, stepping in, his shoulders hunched as he stood there, awkward as hell. Every inch of him screamed that he was nervous, but he didn’t run, not yet. You liked that about him. Quiet, sure, but still stubborn.

Meanwhile, your place was kind of a mess, clothes lying around, bottles on the tables—some empty, some half-full. A few were left over from last week, but hell, you weren’t cleaning for anybody, especially not for him. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though; if anything, he looked like he was trying hard not to stare around too much, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, his face all red once more, while you kicked off those awful heels that made your feet ache.

"Go on and sit down in my room," you said over your shoulder as you turned around, smirking as you heard his quiet huff. "I'm gonna get outta these damn clothes and put on something more comfortable."

"'Kay," he muttered and nodded again, sounding like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, you pulled off the way too tight top and short skirt in the bathroom, letting yourself breathe for once. That outfit was a real curse; your bra always felt as if it was pushing your tits all the way up to your chin, but it kept the tips flowing, so you kept wearing those clothes.

But tonight? You’d rather die than let Daryl see you in it for too long. Poor boy was already chewing the inside of his mouth and choking on his own words like he might say the wrong thing and die on the spot.

But what you didn't know was that the second you went away to change your clothes, Daryl’s hands started twitching, like his body was on alert between curiosity and unease. A few of your clothes were tossed across the bed, smelling like that bar you worked at—smoke, sweat, and alcohol. It all felt like a place he shouldn’t be at, but here he was, sitting down on your bed and touching your clothes to shove them aside.

He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just trying to figure you out as he sat there nervously. Hell, you were already a mystery to him—a tough girl working in a bar where skirts and shorts barely covered what they ought to and heels high enough to bring any man to his knees.

So here he was, and his mind started running wild, wondering if every woman’s place was like this—half-dirty, with clothes tossed around, magazines piled up, and so much more.

Then his eyes landed on a big box sitting half-shoved under your bed, an open corner poking out like it had been forgotten as his foot bumped against it. He should’ve left it alone, but there was that itch, like he couldn’t look away. Daryl crouched down, sitting down on the floor, his fingers fumbling with the top until it opened up. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he looked inside.

It was filled with... things. Smooth, soft, strange-looking things in different shapes and colors, each one making him more confused than the last.

"What's this stuff?" He whispered, eyes squinting as he picked up a small pink thing with a rounded end. It fit in his hand, smooth but with some weight to it. "This for her... work?" He mumbled, rolling it over in his hand like it might magically turn into something he recognized. Maybe it was a tool, or even one of those weird bar gadgets he didn’t know about.

Another catch of something sparkly and soft shoved down in there made his heart beat faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling out more—the things looking weirder by the second. There was a wand-looking thing, and he held it like it might explode, wondering what the hell you were doing with all this.

"Drugs? Gotta be for drugs," he muttered, frowning as he inspected the box. Could be some kind of injector, maybe? He knew about that stuff—the guys that Merle met sometimes, passing around different things for the good times. But nothing here made sense, and there wasn't any instruction manual in sight.

He looked around like you’d come back any second and catch him, heat burning inside of him as he thought about what this meant. Were you hiding something? Was it… Was it for some kind of secret thing you did when no one was around?

"Damn it, what’re ya up to?" He said, biting his lip, his hand brushing over the surface of the smooth, strange thing, feeling his pulse race at the thought that you did know exactly what these were for.

And yet he didn’t. Not a damn clue.

"Hell’s this?"

He felt a cord between his fingers, pulling it slightly, as if tugging on it might magically make it make sense. Maybe it was for listening to music? But it had no sound, and no little earbuds or anything that he could see.

Setting that one down, he picked up another—an oblong thing with ridges along one side. It looked almost like a flashlight, but there was nowhere for the light to shine from. He pressed his thumb over it, turning it this way and that, but nothing happened.

"What the hell?" It had to be for something specific. You wouldn’t just have random stuff lying around like this for no reason, would you?

Then he found another, rounder one, with a strange little button on the side. He pressed it, flinching a bit when it buzzed all of a sudden. The damn thing nearly jumped out of his hand, and he held it tight to stop the vibrations.

"Damn thing’s possessed," he nearly yelled, feeling his cheeks burn. It felt... weird. Too weird.

And you? You had barely slipped into the bathroom, taking off your work clothes and enjoying the idea of how Daryl would squirm alone for a moment in your bedroom. The way he’d stumbled his way in earlier, not wanting to make eye contact like he didn’t know what to do with his own hands? It was almost way too easy to tease him.

And there he was, practically glowing red, sitting next to the box you kept under the bed. A simple big box—hell, he was behaving so cautiously, like he’d just discovered a bomb or a dead body. But what really caught you was the thing in his hand. A vibrator.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. His head moved up, eyes wide as if he’d just been caught robbing a bank.

"Shit!" The vibrator fell out of his hand, hitting the floor, but that was only the start; the thing started buzzing further—vibrating across the floor and right toward your feet. Daryl didn’t move; he didn’t even reach for it. He just sat there, staring at the buzzing vibrator like it was going to bite him.

"Gonna tell me what you’re doin’ with my stuff?" You asked, half-amused, half-teasing, waiting to see what half-assed excuse he’d come up with, as you leaned against the door frame. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out at first.

"I… uh—" he stammered, swallowing loudly, his hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. "I thought… I mean—thought it was, like, stuff for..." His voice trailed off, eyes looking to the ground, too ashamed to meet yours.

"Yeah? Stuff for what?" You pressed further, stepping forward, taking the vibrator and turning it off, stopping the noise but not the look of pure mortification on his face.

"I… thought it might be, y'know... Maybe it was, uh, y’know, things for... for bar stuff, or somethin’. Yer work." His voice was quiet, like he might get in trouble just for saying it out loud.

"For work?" You laughed and crouched down to sit next to him. "Yeah, Daryl, because every bartender needs a vibrator in her kit. So… You wanna tell me why you’re snooping, or am I just supposed to guess?"

You reached over, brushing a hand along the edge of your toy box, taking in the way his eyes tried to look at each item inside. Poor boy had no clue what half of it was for, but he looked at everything like it might burn him.

"Am sorry! I wasn’t… Jus'… waitin’ on ya an' got curious, I guess," he murmured. "Didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

You leaned in closer, enough that he could probably feel your breath on his face. "Curious, huh?" You asked, eyeing the way his shoulders tensed up. "You don't know what that stuff is?"

"Uh…" He blinked, looking between you and the vibrator like it might suddenly start buzzing again. "Not… really. No."

"Oh, you really don’t?" You pretended to be surprised. "It’s a toy, Dixon. A fun toy. For women. And men sometimes as well."

"That for real?" He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

"As real as it gets, sweetheart. And judging by that look on your face, I’d bet you don’t have much experience with this sorta things." You raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "Ain’t never… really..." He trailed off, his whole face full of embarrassment.

"Never what?" You asked, leaning in so close you could smell the cigarettes and sweat on him, and somehow, it drove you wild. "Fucked a woman? Or even fucked yourself, huh?"

"I—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, a sound that told you everything you needed to know. "I don’t… don’t really know… how… t'do any of that."

"Oh, honey." You leaned back a little. "You look like you’re about ready to pass out."

Daryl trembled, trying to look anywhere but at you, his whole face burning. "I—I jus'… I dunno what to do with... all that," he continued, motioning awkwardly toward the box.

You smirked, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Guess no one’s shown you how a woman uses one of these before, huh?" You watched his reaction, loving every little deep breath he took and every embarrassed flinch.

"N-no… But what if... maybe they could've been... for, uh, drugs?" His face somehow went even more red, and he looked ready to sink into the floor.

"Drugs? What, you think I’m hiding some kind of dealer setup in my own bedroom? And especially right under my damn bed?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Trust me, they’ll get you high, alright—but not the way you’re thinkin’."

The embarrassment on his face was almost painful to watch as he shifted on the ground. "Like I said, I—I don't... Ain’t never done stuff like that before, okay? I—I mean, I done that with myself... sometimes. But not really... okay?"

You smiled, letting your fingers move over his, watching as his breath stopped, his eyes looking up to meet yours for a desperate second. "Well," you murmured, "maybe I could show you a thing or two. If you’re up for it, that is."

Daryl swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he glanced between you and the box again. He indeed looked like he was about to pass out, but he seemed curious—curious in a way that he couldn’t quite hide.

"Oh, c'mon, I know you want to," you whispered, clicking your tongue, standing up, and taking off your shirt slowly. His eyes looked up fast, staring at you, and he shifted on the spot, pressing his thighs together. That’s when you noticed the growing bulge in his pants—it was more than obvious he was already hard as a rock.

"Damn, Dixon," you chuckled, "you’ve got a real problem, don’t you?" You let your shirt fall down to the floor. "Hey, don’t just sit there looking lost—c’mon, no way you're that scared of undressing a woman!"

He stammered something, some half-strangled "n-no," his hands gripping his own thighs like he had to hold himself back from reaching for you. That only spurred you on, raising your brows as you grabbed him to stand up and guiding his trembling hands to the hem of your pants.

"Well, here’s your chance," you smirked, waiting for him to open the button. You watched his fingers fumble with it, shaking as he pulled down the zipper, and then, when he managed to pull your pants down over your hips along with your panties, his eyes widened like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

"Keep goin’, don't be shy," you whispered, guiding his fingers down your thighs until your clothes hit the floor.

He just stood there, staring, mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. You leaned in close, eyes locked on his, before you knelt down again and took the vibrator out of the box once more, pressing the button and letting it hum.

His eyes shot to the toy, watching with pure terror and fascination, and when you pressed it into his hand again, he held it like some foreign, sacred object he was too scared to break.

"Here," you mumbled, laying down onto the bed, legs spread just enough to give him a view he couldn’t tear himself away from even if he tried, before you pulled him next to you and guided his hand between your legs, pressing the vibrator to your thigh and dragging it higher. "Just like that, Daryl. Feels interesting, doesn’t it?"

Daryl could barely breathe, staring down as if hypnotized, the muscles in his whole body tensing up. When you moved his hand to press the vibrator against your pussy, you felt him stiffen, his other hand gripping his thigh to stop himself from trembling. The toy was vibrating against you, and you let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, glancing up just in time to see the way his eyes stayed on you, watching every little twitch and shiver of your body.

"I bet you’re a quick learner," you teased, reaching down to guide his hand again, moving it with the toy so it hit just right, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. His mouth fell open a little, and he sucked in a breath when you suddenly moaned, pressing yourself harder against the vibrator. His hand moved a bit awkwardly, like he didn’t quite know if he was supposed to be touching you this way, but the look in his eyes said he wanted to keep going more than anything.

You let out another moan, a little louder this time, just to see the way he reacted. His grip on the toy tightened, and you didn’t miss the way he was fighting with himself, clearly struggling to keep himself in check as his cock pressed harder against his pants, his breath coming out faster and shorter.

"Poor thing," you whispered, pulling his hand away for a moment, just to watch him struggle. "Bet you’ve never been this hard, huh?" Daryl's eyes looked at you, wide and mortified, like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. But the look he gave you—so desperate, so needy—only made you want to push him further.

"You wanna see what this thing can do to me?" You asked, not giving him time to answer as you pressed the vibrator into his hand again and guided it back between your legs. "Just keep it steady, like that. Right there." You rocked your hips against it, letting out a shaky breath as the lust built itself up inside of you, still watching as he clung to every little sound that left your lips.

Daryl's eyes were glued to you, his mouth open, and you noticed the way he kept moving his hips, trying to get rid of his hard-on. But no matter how much he squirmed, it wasn’t enough. He was near leaking through his pants by now, his cock being so hard he couldn’t think straight, and the sight of you practically coming undone in front of him had him on the edge himself.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, Dixon? But... don't you want to feel that too?" You taunted, moving your fingers along his wrist, pushing him to press harder and the toy just a tiny bit into you, wanting to let him feel every little tremor that wracked your body. He just nodded, lost for words, breathing hard, his eyes moving between your face and the way your hips bucked against his hand.

"Keep going, just like that," you urged, and he obeyed, pressing the vibrator a little harder, his other hand softly brushing against your thigh as if he needed something to hold onto to keep himself from falling apart. His face was so close now, so flushed, eyes wide with need, lips parted as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

"Y’know, Daryl," you moaned, "you’re doing a hell of a job for someone who’s never touched a woman before, not even with toys." His face burned, but he kept going, kept pressing that toy against your pussy, completely mesmerized by the way you reacted.

"You like watching me, don’t you?" You murmured, letting out another moan that left him swallowing hard. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed... that you can’t keep your eyes off me and how damn hard you are."

He tried to come up with a response, something about "I... I didn’t mean to..." but his words trailed off, and he was just there, helpless, utterly at your mercy, his hand tightening on the toy as you let out one last moan that left him breathless and staring, before you snatched the vibrator from him and clicked it off.

The little tremor it left in his hand was nothing compared to the way he stared at you now, still holding onto that last bit of control.

"Think you can do it without help?" You asked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your pussy and to make him feel how wet you were, his fingers twitching as they moved along your folds. Daryl nodded but was holding on for dear life and trying not to slip.

"I... I dunno," he mumbled, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Oh, for the love of... here," you growled, placing your hand over his, guiding his touch lower, rougher, until you dragged his fingers exactly where you wanted them. But Daryl was a mess, barely holding himself together, his other hand still clamped over that hard bulge in his pants as he lay there beside you.

"Now, watch closely," you instructed, pressing his fingers just the way you liked it. "Doesn’t take much, does it?" You smiled, letting your free hand move down his chest, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Bet you’d come just feeling me touch you."

He whimpered, the outline of his cock pulsing through his pants, a wet spot already forming itself. It didn’t take much to notice the hesitation in his every move, making him so easy to toy with.

You leaned back a little, pushing your tits forward. "Go on and position yourself over me," you dared, and as soon as he did, you lifted his other hand from his bulge to your tits, watching as he sucked in a breath, his hand shaking as if he were holding something he had no right to touch. "Ever felt these before?"

Daryl shook his head, still wide-eyed, his eyes looking into yours for a second before dropping back down, like he was afraid to look too long.

"Then make the most of it." You reached down, pressing his other hand harder against you. "I want you to use that mouth of yours now," you smirked, pushing him down to press his lips against your nipples. His breath was warm and shaky, and he hesitated, his mouth just an inch away from you. You raised an eyebrow, daring him, and after a long, deep breath, he finally leaned in.

"That's a good boy," you praised, your fingers running through his hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. He was so damn easy to play with, each little whimper and moan only turning you on more, urging him to suck and lick, his tongue slow but eager, desperate for more.

"Gently," you ordered, glancing down to see him lose himself, his hands now touching you like he didn’t want to let go. The poor guy was panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked and kissed your nipple, as if the sight alone would push him over the edge.

You soon moved your hand down, feeling the outline of his cock through his pants, feeling him flinch, his breath stopping as you gave him just a bit of what he wanted. "This what you want, Daryl?" You whispered, teasing him and squeezing his shaft just enough to make him groan, his hips bucking, desperate for more. "You do, don't you? But now, I want you to eat me out."

Daryl couldn’t even get out a response, his mouth still on your nipple, but the look in his eyes told you everything.

"Pathetic, but also really cute," you laughed, unzipping his pants just enough to reach inside, your fingers wrapping around his cock and making him gasp, his whole body tensing as you squeezed him. He was thick, hard, already wet from the pre-cum that leaked from his tip, and the way he moaned, quite high, only made you want to drag it out and tease him until he was begging to come.

As you quickly positioned yourself over his face, you could see how he was a nervous wreck the moment your ass hovered above him. "Oh, please, don’t just lay there. Get to work," you teased, lowering yourself down, your pussy brushing against his lips.

When he finally opened his mouth, it was like you flipped a switch. The moment your folds hit his tongue, he moaned, the sound muffled against you. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but grind against his face, pushing him harder against you.

"God, you’re a natural," you gasped, encouraging him with your hips. "Just like that, baby. Don’t be shy; use your tongue."

Daryl’s mouth worked hesitantly at first, but the more you ground down, the more confident he became. His face was buried in your pussy, the taste of you driving him wild as he licked and sucked, trying to figure out what made you feel good, and the way he looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and lust, only made you want to ride his face harder.

"Yeah, keep going," you panted, feeling your legs tremble as he finally got into a rhythm. "Good boy, just like that," you moaned, feeling the tension building inside you. He was so focused, so eager to please, and the way he hungrily licked and sucked made you see stars.

"Don’t stop, Daryl. I’m so close," you urged. "Yeah, that’s it," you moaned, pushing your hips down even harder. "Don’t you dare stop. Just like that—yes!"

The way he held your thighs, trying to hold you against him, and the way he whimpered against you—those sweet little sounds pushed you right over. "I’m cumming! Fuck!"

Your body tensed, and you ground down harder again, shaking and feeling him groan against your dripping pussy as you let go and came, completely lost in the moment.

You felt him drink it all in, and you knew he was just as lost as you were. The second you pushed yourself off his face and watched him, face red and lips parted, you could tell Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Wide-eyed and panting, he lay there as if you’d just dragged him straight into some fever dream he wasn’t even ready for. He seemed so helpless as he tried to piece together the storm of feelings that’d just hit him.

"Still with me, Daryl?" You asked, letting your weight push him further into the bed. His eyes looked down between your legs, then looked away, like he didn’t have the courage to watch.

"Y-yeah…"

He shuddered, that helpless little whine slipping out as you leaned down, your mouth right over his. He was as stiff as a board beneath you, looking both horrified and desperately curious at the same time.

"Think you can handle more of this?" You whispered, one hand moving down and wrapping around his cock as you took it fully out of his pants.

"W-wait," he stammered, trying to close his legs in a last attempt to get some space, but you only held him tighter, giving his cock a slow, teasing stroke. It twitched in your hand, leaking all over your fingers like he couldn’t stop himself.

"Sweetie, look at you," you smiled, swirling a finger over the tip, just to watch him jerk, hips lifting up like he was begging. "So needy aren't we?"

Daryl let out another whimper, his face going beet-red, those shy eyes looking away once more as though if he didn’t look at you, he’d somehow be less mortified.

"Feels so good, huh?"

His whole body was practically trembling with need, and he was leaking—a lot. His cock throbbed in your hand, pre-cum dripping so much it smeared along your fingers.

"Damn, Daryl," you whispered, smirking as your fingers now teased along the underside of his cock. "Didn’t know you’d be this easy, really."

You soon leaned down, your mouth just over his cock; the slightest lick of your tongue along his tip pushed another bit of pre-cum out, and you couldn’t help but laugh, loving every bit of his need.

"Baby, look at you, leaking everywhere," you teased again, wiping the tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, licking off the taste. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly before leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your lips.

It made him moan again, his hands reaching out to grip your body as if needing to ground himself. "P-please…" He whispered, but you didn’t give in just yet.

Instead, you reached down, grabbing your vibrator again. You saw the way his eyes narrowed, with pure nervousness all over his face, as you suddenly pressed the toy to his cock, starting at the lowest setting. The buzzing made him gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily against you as you dragged the vibrator along his shaft, right along that sensitive spot just under the head. Every time it brushed up and down, he leaked more against your hand, only making it messier.

"Oh s-shit…" He whimpered, sounding utterly wrecked.

With a smirk, you leaned back and held up the vibrator for him to see, his eyes following it, dazed, and lips parted. "I think that’s enough; otherwise you might explode on the spot," you said, watching his expression drop just slightly as he looked at you switching it off and tossing it back into your toy box all of a sudden.

Leaning up, you gave his lips a slow, lazy kiss, feeling him melt against you, even more needy when you pulled away and slipped back down. And damn if he didn’t start leaking more, a fresh drop of slick pre-cum glistening right there, just begging to be tasted.

"How sweet you are, Daryl," you murmured, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of his cock, not missing the way his hips jerked up instinctively, even though he didn't seem to understand why. One gentle lick. That’s all it took for him to be close again, and he was helpless against it.

"Just relax and enjoy it," you continued, letting your tongue move along the tip of his cock and the desperate little gasp of his driving you wild as he grabbed the sheets, practically sobbing as he tried to hold back.

You wrapped your lips around just the head, barely enough to count as anything. But to him? It was like fireworks going off.

"N-no, I—oh fuck, I can’t—" He breathed out as his head fell back, his body shivering under you.

And when you took him just that tiny bit deeper, that was it—he lost it. Hard. He tried to hold it, tried to push you back even, one hand weakly pressing against your head, but he was already too far gone. The orgasm tore through Daryl, overpowering him completely.

His whole body stiffened, a helpless cry coming from his throat as he finally lost it, filling your mouth with his cum as he came. Before he even had time to process it, you’d swallowed every last drop from his throbbing cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked back up at him.

He was still shaking, his mind clearly blown, and when he finally managed to look at you, it was with that same wide-eyed shock.

Daryl just lay there, still in shock, his body trembling as reality sank in. "D-did ya really jus'—" His voice cracked with disbelief all over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

You smirked at him, leaning in close, your lips moving softly against his in a teasing kiss. "What’s the matter, sweet boy? Never had someone swallow your cum before?"

He quickly shook his head. "I—I thought ya might get pregnan' or somethin'!" He stammered in embarrassment, his mind racing with the wildest thoughts.

"Oh, cutie. You really think it’s that easy? I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," you laughed, nudging his arm, enjoying the way his shoulders tensed up like he was trying to hide from you. "What? Can’t even look me in the eye after that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever words he thought he might stammer out just died right there, and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I... I didn’ mean to..." he finally managed to say, his voice cracking in the middle, his face still as red as a tomato.

You raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to what? Coming in record time?" You let out a sarcastic scoff, and he near cried, ducking his head as though it would save him.

"I-I dunno, I thought... I jus', I mean—" he stumbled over each word. "Jus' ain’t never been with... y’know, anyone... like that."

"No kidding," you replied dryly, watching him shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "Anyone coulda guessed that, by the way, you freaked the hell out." He winced at your words, but hell, it just made him look all the more adorable, laying there.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he went stiff as a board all over. "Easy, Daryl," you murmured. "No one’s laughing at you... much."

"I-I’m... sorry," he mumbled again.

"Sorry?" You scoffed, tilting his chin up to force his eyes to look at you. "For what? That you came too soon, or that you actually loved it?"

He tried to look away, but your fingers held him in place. "Both, I reckon," he answered, his voice shaking. It was like he thought he’d done something wrong, like he needed to apologize for being human.

"Nothing wrong with it, Dixon. Means I sure as hell did it right." You laughed, running a thumb over his jawline as he stared back at you.

"Bet that head of yours is just spinning right now, ain’t it?" You said, half-mocking. "Poor, sweet Daryl, don’t know what to do with himself now."

It was easy to see what he still needed—what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t have to guess, though. He was desperate for something more, desperate for you to just tell him what to do. It was obvious that he had no experience with women or anything like this, but it didn’t matter to you. If anything, it just made it better. You wanted him nervous.

"Hey," you said softly. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Not at all." You could see that he wanted to apologize again, wanting to make up for how pathetic he felt.

"Tell you what," you said, kissing his cheek. "You’ve got a lot to learn, Daryl Dixon. But I think you’re gonna like it. You just need to stop worrying." His hands moved to your waist, but they were hesitant, unsure. "And me? Well, I’m not here to judge you."

You took his hands and placed them back on your body, guiding him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate much, but it seemed as if he was trying to copy the way you had guided him earlier, trying to find some way to make up for what had happened. But that, for now, was enough.

"Don’t worry," you said, grinning at him, "I’m going to teach you."

Because you would. And he had no choice. Maybe that was what you liked most. The way Daryl needed you now, the way he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he was willing to follow you with your help along the way.

And he was only going to fall deeper.

[carlmipololo]

Tastes like candy.

Carl Grimes x Fem!reader

Smut, oral sex (f receiving), thigh hickeys, fingering, thigh biting, morning sex, etc

You didn't really know how you had ended up like this so early in the morning, all you knew was that you got woken up by Carl and before you could even snap out of your sleepiness he already had his head buried between your legs.

It was a common occurrence when it came to you two, somehow he couldn't seem to be able to keep his head out from between your thighs. Whatever chance he got to be there was always a chance he'd take.

So now as you stared at the ceiling of his room with half lided eyes and your mouth agape you couldn't help but think about the way Carl seemed to love your thighs, and even more when he had them wrapped around his neck or squishing his face as he held them while he lapped at your folds relentlessly.

You couldn't help but moan as he plunged his tongue inside you for a moment before he slightly pulled away, looking disheveled as ever, quickly focusing his attention on adding new stars to the constellation he had formed on your thighs out of hickeys and bites, his swollen lips latching onto your inner thigh to start sucking on the tender skin, his attention focused on forming new marks as he dipped his fingers inside you to keep the stimulation going, curling his digits up ever so slightly to graze your g spot, edging you as he kept up with his job of marking your thighs, worshipping them as if there wasn't anything else in the world he loved doing more.

His mouth was skilled from how much he ate you out, he loved your pleasure over his, the way you writhed and panted whenever he got you closer and closer to the edge was the definition of beauty for him. So as he finally detached himself from your thighs and resumed his stimulation with his mouth on your sopping cunt you couldn't help it anymore, you had to come on his pretty face with your thighs clamped around his head, squeezing him like a vice in a way he could never deny he loved.

"I really can't understand why the hell you like doing this so much..." In the end, what did he even get out of it? It wasn't like he was actually getting off to it as he only lavished attention on you.

Carl peppered gentle kisses over your thighs, licking over the bites he had left behind on them to soothe the sting. He looked up at you as you spoke, lips glistening with your own arousal, licking them before answering softly, smiling shyly in a way only he can do it after doing something like that.

"Tastes like candy..."

This took way too long waaah.

@enidette @lunarnightt @carlsangel @carlslvr @carlsangel @girlthatsinsane @hiro--aoki @smollbean42905 @livingdeadgirlflorette

[sleepyangelkami]

PERVERTED II c.grimes

 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - carl decides to go through with this weeks saturday sleepover. so far, he's been able to control himself. until, that is, he hears you whimper his name in your sleep.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, slight angst, somnophilia, thigh riding (kinda), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, wet dreams, sex dreams, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, noncon, heavy manipulation, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

"you sure you don't wanna come?" rick questioned as he took a box from his son, landing it inside the back of the truck. "we could use the help."

carl watched his dad place a hand on his hip before shaking his head, hand on his hat. "no, i promised y/n i'd stay over. can't miss saturday sleepover can i?" he'd laughed yet he knew he wouldn't wish to miss it for the world, either. rick gave him a look, lips slightly perking up as if he knew something. "what?"

rick wasn't born yesterday either. he was well aware what it was like to have a silly crush, especially at that age. but this... this was much different. "nothin'" before packing in the last box. "you be good, alright? don't ruin the house while glenn and maggie are gone."

the two were going on the supply run with him, along with many more of the fighters. "bye, dad." watching him get into the rusted car.

and so, the day went on.

by the time lunch rolled around, carl still hadn't seen you. however, he wasn't entirely alone. he soon found ron who decided to help him look for you. in return, you'd also be looking for his also missing girlfriend, enid.

"they're always running off." ron muttered under his breath. he knew enid was close with you, possibly your best friend had carl not been thrown into the mix. enid was always running off with you, slinging you around by the arm. "hey, what's the deal with you two anyway?" carl's head peeked up, brows knitting together. "is she like your girlfriend or something?"

his mind moved like puzzle pieces. girlfriend. carl had never had a girlfriend before but he was pretty sure you had to kiss and all that to actually be in a relationship. then again, you don't touch yourself with your 'friend's panties sitting on your dick. he cleared his throat. "no... no we're not together."

saying you were his friend didn't seem all too right but saying you weren't his girlfriend didn't seem right either. you were something.

but ron didn't look convinced, rolling his eyes with his brows raising slightly. "whatever, dude." was it really all that obvious to everyone aside from you? carl thought that if there was a competition on the most oblivious person alive, you'd win.

but perhaps that was the easier option. would he have preferred you to know? everything seemed so easy with the fact that you were so oblivious. it was like a reminder that he could do anything he wanted right under your nose.

"finally." hearing the mutter from ron, carl looked up. this was when he was met with the sight of you, as pretty as ever, sat next to enid on a bench near the town's pond.

carl could barely look at you. the way you sat with your legs folded, smiling away innocently, completely unaware of what he'd done last night. you wore a pretty skirt, enough to slightly hike up your legs, giving carl a view of the pretty plush of your thighs.

he could only imagine digging his hands around the plush, holding it and kneeding the skin. he could only imagine grasping your thighs, holding them close while he rammed his di―

"there you guys are!" ron exclaimed causing carl to shake his head, ridding himself of the thoughts he'd been having. "carl and i were looking all over for you." he had this voice he used when he spoke to girls, one that carl could guarantee was not the voice he used with him.

enid only rolled her eyes. the sight of her boyfriend and carl was enough to have her smile drop. "well, we weren't looking for you." she mumbled. some may say she didn't like anyone aside from you, not even her own boyfriend. carl didn't think there was much of a point of being with someone that you didn't even like. "hence the getaway pond."

ron must have thought she was joking because he came up to pinch her side and kiss her cheek. the sight alone had carl's stomach turning.

however, the sweet sound of your lulling voice was enough to bring him back. "hi, carl." you beamed at him, smile as wide as ever. he hadn't even registered you moving from the bench to his side. all he remembered was the feeling of you snaking in next to him, your body so close. suddenly, he felt so dirty. "we were feeding the ducks." smiling like a child on christmas. you always smiled like that, like you had a thousand things to be smiling about. it always made carl wonder if you were truly made for this world at all.

when he was around you, he was fighting off his own smile. yours was so contagious. the way his lips curved upwards told you he was happy for you, he always was. "that's great ba― y/n." correcting himself as his expression faltered, smile wavering.

he watched as your entire face fell.

he was unable to bring himself to call you those cute names. baby, sweetheart, like an old couple who'd spent their entire lives together. he couldn't bring himself to say such things after he imagined himself fucking you just the night before. it didn't seem right, not when you were so oblivious to the dirtiness behind his words.

the smile wiped clean from your face, carl was sure you could have cried.

you reminded him somewhat of a kicked puppy.

he'd been the one to kick you.

he never called you y/n, unless speaking to someone else like his father or even ron. this was because they'd hardly understand who you were if he was referring to you as sweetheart.

the point was, he only used your name if it was wholeheartedly necessary.

you wondered what'd changed.

your mind ran back to the night before. when he'd entered your house, looking awfully suspicious and at the sight of you, he practically rushed out the door. had you done something wrong? your heart ached at the idea that you may have upset him. a heart of gold, some people said you had. carl had to beg to differ. the look on your face explained all he needed to know, a heart of mere paper.

he regretted it the moment he said it.

he knew how you got, how all up in your head you could be. he could only imagine how you'd be for the rest of the day, going over every interaction you've ever had with the boy and wondering where everything went wrong, where you messed up.

the moment your name slipped from his lips, he thought it may have been better to call you anything else in the entire world. even if it was laced with the dirty undertone.

he felt your body move slightly away from his, eyes cast down on the ground to avoid any glances. "'m gonna go see aaron." you announced, rather loudly too.

"okay." enid responded, her eyes glancing you over before turning to carl, a slight glare, if you will. she didn't particularly like carl, though carl hadn't the foggiest idea why. perhaps it was because she was so protective of you. carl had to roll his eyes, if anyone knew what was good for you, it was him. "don't stay out too late."

you didn't respond, grasping your bag that sat at the bench before turning onto the footpath.

carl had to purse his lips. "wrong way." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

with slightly wide eyes, you realised he was right. spinning around on your heel, you began walking left instead of right. "thanks." you mumbled under your breath before continuing your walk to one of your favourite people in the entirety of alexandria.

back at the pond, carl was cursing himself under his breath before turning around to find two accusing pair of eyes sat on the bench. one pair belonged to enid, the other to ron. "what did you do?" was enid's accusing tone, her face hard as stone. carl was on the receiving end of this look very often, he didn't fear it... well, he feared it a little but not as much as before... okay he feared it.

"what do you mean what did i do?" he instantly fell to defending himself. despite the fact that he knew he was the reason for your declining mood. "i didn't do anything."

whether it was to intimidate carl or that she smelled the sort of fish smell of ron that carl had smelt earlier, she perked up on the bench, loosening her boyfriend's arm across her shoulder. "she looks like a deflated balloon." she argued.

"yeah." ron nodded his head. carl couldn't stop the glare he sent his way, what did he know. "everyone knows aaron's like her very own guidance councillor, his boyfriend too." he shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you did, i'd say fix it quick."

the brunette boy only glared at the couple. "thanks guys, for that enlightening advice. but i don't need it, okay? i didn't do anything."

on the contrary, he was well aware that it was his fault. he needed to fix it and he needed to fix it fast but he didn't need enid and ron whispering in his ears. nobody knew you like carl, they didn't know what they were talking about. they hadn't seen you crying over some stupid movie you watched. they didn't see you smiling the way he did, they didn't take notice like him.

they'd never understand what it was like to know you. only carl would. and he'd make sure of that.

the sun was setting by the time carl had made it to your house. you'd opened the door, taking him in with your eyes before allowing him inside. maggie and glenn were on the run so the two of you headed straight towards the bedroom where'd you'd begin the movie night. however, carl was more focused on the fact that you'd spoken barely four words to him tonight rather than which disney movie you'd force him to watch this time.

he knew you were in your head but you wouldn't utter the words because what were you meant to say? hey carl, why didn't you call me baby? something so simple had ruined your entire day.

however, carl couldn't keep it in anymore. "are you okay?" he blurted out after many moments of silence as he sat atop your pink bed sheets.

you, at the foot of the bed pursed your lips. you pressed play on the movie and allowed the credits to begin. you weren't the type of person to insist that you were fine if you weren't. carl liked that about you, he never had to guess. "are you mad at me?" voice meek, like a childs.

the realisation hit carl that despite what he was feeling for you, he'd have to push it down in order to continue your friendship. at least, he couldn't take it out on you. "'course not, baby, c'mere."

the name fell from his lips like sweet relief.

it suddenly occurred to the boy that you needed him. desperately so. something as simple as calling you by your first name had thrown off your entire day. carl should have been worried, concerned even. instead, his heart fluttered a little.

you truly did rely on him.

with a sigh of relief, you found yourself crawling up to the boy. today had been so long with you being in your own head so when you felt the feeling of his hands sneak around your waist, it was like coming home after a long day at work.

you couldn't see his face but if you could, you'd see the sheer nervousness on his face. he needed to control himself but he wasn't sure how that was possible while you cuddled up against him beneath your bed sheets, clad in your pretty pale blue shorts and your white spaghetti strap top.

your knee was bent, extending over the top of his legs. there was a sharp intake of breath as your knee gently bumped against the prominent bulge in his shorts. you hadn't noticed, he knew you hadn't noticed and to make sure you wouldn't notice, he reached over to switch off the light, clearing his throat. "so, uh, what are we watching?"

"the princess frog." you answered, turning your head up to look at his face as he groaned.

a look of displeasment was evident on his face. "it's so boring!" he practically gushed.

offence hit you like a truck. "excuse me!" you battled. "i'd like to see you opening up your own restaurant all by yourself." even carl had to admit, you got him there.

carl never understood why you picked movies that you fell asleep so early during.

he heard your soft snores and your gentle breath hit the crook of his neck within the first half hour of the movie. though he couldn't blame you. truthfully, he could only blame himself in how he had your head messed up, practically knocked off your shoulders for the entire day.

it took until almost a full hour into the movie for you to stur.

at first, carl thought he'd misheard it. a little noise falling from your lips. then, he heard it again.

he held his breath as he heard the whimper leave your lips.

then, he felt it.

the gentle roll of your hips against his thigh had him practically seeing stars. the boy glanced to the tv hoping for some kind of a distraction from his obvious hard on. he couldn't wake you up, not because he actually couldn't. but because he wasn't too sure if he wanted to.

admitting it sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he'd be lying if he said he did want to. the little whimper you let out, sleepily and lowly albeit, into his ear was enough for him to almost completely loose his control.

it was like he was dreaming, it was everything he'd dreamed of, especially the night before.

you sounded even better than he'd thought.

he shouldn't have laid so still. you weren't aware of the way your hips bucked onto his leg, a little whine stretching from your lips. he reminded himself that you were too busy sleeping to understand what was going on. he couldn't engage with you, that'd be wrong.

so... wrong.

then he'd swore he heard it. "carl." a mumble in your sleep, enough for him to not know whether or not you were actually sleeping. he took a glance at your face, eyes screwed shut.

he was imagining things, he had to have been.

you soon rolled over, leaving him laying very stiffly as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

you were having a wet dream, obviously. that'd never happened before, at least not while cuddled up against carl. but he could have swore he heard you say his name. he shook his head, knowing he was wrong, he was so caught up in what had happened the night before that he was imagining you breathe his name.

then, he heard it again.

this time it was more stretched out into a whine. due to the movie on in the background, he could vaguely make out the way your cunt rutted onto nothingness, the mattress maybe but it wasn't enough to cause any real friction.

his mind stirred. if you really were having a dream about him, surely it was only his duty to... help?

but it was dirty, downright perverted.

but your noises were growing needier, obviously the bed wasn't enough for you to create real friction from. he had to help you. "poor girl, can't even get herself off." he mumbled under his breath, not enough to wake you up.

if he were to touch you, it wouldn't be for him. no, he was doing this for you.

he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't wake. on the contrary, you'd sleep through an asteroid should it hit your home.

he reached his hand down beneath the covers, holding his breath. he was helping you, he reminded himself, helping you. this was for you, making sure you felt good as your dream continued. your dream of him.

suddenly, he wasn't the all too dirty one. perhaps you were.

his fingers gently felt the core of your shorts, taking an intake of breath upon feeling just how wet you were. it practically seeped onto his fingers, it was a wonder if his sweatpants didn't have a wet stain on them from how you'd been rolling your hips against them.

he breathed in, gently massaging the area you needed him the most, you all but moaned into the pillow, eyes screwed shut.

carl had dreamed of this moment for as long as he lived, he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

the way your hips jutted into his hand, creating all the friction you needed and you whimpered again, still stuck in slumber, had carl's confidence through the roof.

it was as if saying his name, he realised you wanted it just as much as he did.

how he ended beneath the covers, he wasn't too sure. perhaps it was the newfound confidence he'd gained.

he'd spent too long dreaming of this moment to stop now. he breathed as shallow as a man could before his fingers travelled back to your shorts, gently pulling them away from your aching cunt. that was when he realised you hadn't been wearing panties. did you do that often around him? had you been... expecting something?

nonetheless, carl was more than willing to give it to you.

his breath fanned your pussy, prettier than his sick mind could have ever mustered. the image would be burned into his head, it'd never leave. one thing was for sure, this boy wasn't leaving the next morning without putting his mouth to your cunt.

and that was exactly what he did.

his tongue reached your pussy, licking a long stripe and feeling your thighs jump and your body jolt. obviously, never been touched.

he knew it'd be him who touched you first. now, it was just him making sure of it.

he licked again, your wetness gathering on his tongue. he tried to hold back the groan that spread throughout your entire body. yet, you still lay sleeping. it somehow only egged him on further. he knew you wouldn't wake. to him, your body was his for the taking. and he was going to take it.

his tongue found your cute hole, hands against your thighs, holding them, trapping them down.

tongue dancing across your clit, he heard you moan even louder, still trapped by slumber. his lips curved upwards, tongue circling your clit. he moved one of his hands, using his middle finger to gently slide into your sopping hole. so wet for him, already.

he cursed enid and ron for thinking they knew you. he cursed all of the people who thought they knew you. the truth was, the only person you could ever rely on would be him, he'd make sure that you got what you needed, make sure all your needs were fulfilled at all times. perhaps this was just him making sure of that fact.

his tongue moved away from your clit, moving his other hand to meet it. he saw the way your body writhed against his hands. he couldn't wait to do this when you were awake.

it wasn't until your thighs actually began to shake that he knew what was happening. "s'pretty." he mumbled, dazed as drool practically dripped from his mouth. you truly were, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encountered his entire life.

mouth moving back to your cunt, he moved his tongue back against your clit at an alarming pace. with his now free hand, he held your thighs down, trapping them under him as your body shook against him, jutting your hips back and practically rolling your hips against his face. he relished in it. you were practically getting off to his pretty face which told him all the more just how much you loved this.

he felt your hips force themselves back to the bed, shaking and vibrating until your juices poured out onto his tongue.

you'd came.

he lapped you up without second thought, tongue dancing over your hole and licking the juices off the single finger he'd pushed inside of you.

licking his lips, he finally rose. he watched your face lull in your sleep, obviously content and finally getting your sweet relief. he gently moved your shorts to cover your pussy again, as if nothing had happened at all.

it took mere seconds for you to roll back over and onto him, cuddling against his side. he couldn't help but feel even dirtier.

you'd never even know.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[ffsjustletmesleep]

I love you

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Oneshot

word count: 2.2k

(There better not be errors I put this through a grammar checker 3 times..)

Warnings: Swearing, Fingering, Unprotected sex (Dont be silly guys..), Creampie. (think that's it, enjoy) MDNI 18+

     Daryl and you had been together since before the walker incident had started; the two of you lived together in a shitty townhouse for a few years with his older brother, Merle, until your upstairs neighbors had come bursting through your window trying to attack the three of you while you were asleep. You found a small group in Atlanta and stayed with them for a short while until Merle had decided to get himself into trouble with the new guy, Rick, which caused a huge argument between him and Daryl before they went off to find Merle. The camp had been ambushed by a horde of walkers moments before they returned, which resulted in where you were now, The Greene’s Family Farm.

You stood in Maggie’s room going through her closet as she sat on the bed; you had plans for something special tonight. While getting dressed for the day, your eyes landed on a white dress covered in tiny flowers that were barely noticeable. You pulled it out of the closet and held it to your chest as you looked over at Maggie, smiling. She looked over at you and raised her eyebrows. “Oh my gosh, I forgot about that one. I think you should wear that one today.” She smiled softly.

Your cheeks reddened slightly as you let out a small laugh, starting to get dressed. “Really? It’s not too much?” you asked as you pulled the dress over your head, seeing as it stopped just below your knees. You looked in the mirror and gave a small twirl before looking back at Maggie. She let out a small whistle and got up and walked over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “You look amazing; Daryl is going to love it…” She giggled and brought you over to her vanity to do your hair.

After an hour of her doing your hair, she was done. You made your way out of the house and over to Daryl, who was sitting in your shared tent working on his crossbow. Ever since the two of you had moved your tent away from the farmhouse, you and Daryl have been more intimate, not exactly going all the way yet, but you made out every now and then, with small touches here and there too. You wanted tonight to be special; you had decided you wanted to take the next step with him.

You stepped into the tent and smiled as you saw him; he looked up from his crossbow and grunted softly, looking over towards you, his lips parting to speak, but his words got caught in his throat as he saw your dress. You stepped over to him and brushed your fingers through his short, dirty blonde hair. “Hey, Dar… I was wondering if you could come with me out to the field; I want to go pick up some flowers for Maggie,” you muttered softly as you picked his head up, making him look at you. 

He looked up at you as his eyebrows furrowed at your touch; his ears burned red slightly as he huffed. “Really…flowers? What’s so important bout’ some damn flowers?” he grumbled, putting his crossbow down as he rested his hands on your waist, brushing his thumbs over your hips, feeling the soft material of the dress. 

You blushed slightly and smiled as you leaned down to kiss his cheek before pulling him up to his feet by his arms. “Come on… Please? It will only take a minute, just to the field nearby…” you pouted as you looked up at him; he frowned slightly as he looked at you before leaning down with a small sigh and pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Aight, I guess so…” he mumbled as he picked up his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder before he left the tent with you following behind him as the two of you made your way over to the field near the woods. You walked ahead of him as you felt his gaze on you, looking back at him every now and then to make sure he was still behind you. Once you two had made it to the field, he stopped in his tracks beside you and looked around to make sure there were no walkers.

As you bent down and picked up some grass, you looked over at him with a smile and tossed it in his direction before you ran off. He stepped back and looked at the grass that covered his clothes before looking over at you running off; his eyes narrowed at you, and he took off after you. “Get back ‘ere! Don’t be runnin’ away from me!” he shouted as he chased you around the field of flowers you were standing in. 

You giggled as you ran, your hair flowing in the wind as you heard him quickly catch up to you; he grasped your hips tightly as he spun you around in his arms, his foot slipping in a patch of grass as he brought you to the ground with him with a small thud. You gasped as he fell on top of you; he groaned softly and leaned up on his elbows, looking down at you as he rubbed his head. You let out a small breath as you looked up at him, giggling.

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you told me you fell for me…” you whispered as you smiled. He looked at you quietly for a moment as his ears started to redden once more, his eyes glancing down at your lips for a moment before they returned to yours, as if he were asking for your permission. You blushed and gave him a soft smile and nodded. He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours for a moment before he kissed you, slowly and gently. 

You reached up and threaded your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back, humming softly against his lips as his hands lifted the hem of your dress. He let out a small sigh and slipped his hands under your dress, feeling your soft thighs against the rough pads of his hands as he grasped them. He trailed his lips down your neck and kissed and nipped the skin gently. You tilted your head back and let out a small whine.

He let out a small chuckle and pulled the sleeves of your dress down, revealing your chest to the cold air as a shiver ran down your spine. You tilted your head at him and smiled. “Stop laughing at me; I was trying to be cute…” You whispered softly, and he smiled and ran his hands down your sides. “Mmm… sorry, yer just’ so cute…” he muttered softly before he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. 

Your hands made their way into his hair and tugged at the short strands gently, letting out a small sigh at the feeling of his tongue tracing around the small bud. His hand gently kneaded your other breast as his other one made its way back underneath your dress, toying with the fabric of your underwear and pushing it to the side, brushing his fingers along your folds. He let out a small groan at the feeling of your arousal coating them.

The wind blew lightly around you as it started to get darker, the night falling by the second, but the two of you were too engrossed in the moment to care. You felt his finger entering you, gasping as your head tilted back against the grass. Biting your lip, you tugged at his hair once more, letting out a small whimper as his thick digit stretched you out. “Yer so tight…” he whispered against your chest, his lips trailing down your skin as he pulled your dress down your body.

He added another, curling them gently and hitting your sweet spot. You moaned out as he curled his fingers inside you, the knot slowly building up in the pit of your stomach as he pumped them in and out of you; he gradually picked up the speed as the heat between you grew. His breathing got heavy, and his body got hotter as his lips explored your body, trailing down your stomach and stopping just below your navel before he looked up at you, watching as your lips parted with every gasp. 

“Yer being’ so good for me, Sunshine. Come on,” he whispered as he scissored his fingers, letting out a small chuckle from the moan you let out. Your stomach tightened more and more by the second until the knot snapped. With a small cry, you came around his fingers. He slowly removed them and let out a groan at the sight of your arousal coating them; he pushed his pants down his hips just enough to free himself, hissing softly as the cold air hit his cock.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pressing his body against yours as he intertwined your fingers, holding it down against the soft blades of grass. “Are ya sure ya wanna do this?” he asked as he looked at you, stroking your thigh softly. You nodded your head and reached up to touch his cheek, bringing him into another kiss as you sighed softly. “I love you, Daryl. I wanna do this with you…” you whispered against his lips.

The feeling of your touch on his skin, your voice in his ears, and your lips on his. He couldn’t get enough of you. He pushed your underwear to the side once more and lined himself up with your entrance before gently pushing into you. Letting out a small curse as your tight walls hugged him. 

You pressed your lips against his and felt his hand tighten in yours, moaning out as his cock stretched you open. He pressed further inside you, trying not to hurt you as he bottomed out, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand left your thigh and moved up into your hair, stroking it gently as he whispered soft praises into your ear. You slowly relaxed into him as the pain subsided, pleasure filling your senses as you leaned into his touch. “Daryl…” you whined. He looked at you for a moment, feeling the way your hips squirmed against his, silently begging him to move.

He pulled out all the way before he pushed back in, keeping his pace slow as he moved his hips against yours; the sound of your soft gasps and moans in his ear was driving him crazy, loving the way your hand squeezed his. “Ya sound so good…” he groaned as he picked up his pace, biting down on his bottom lip to concentrate. He wanted to focus on you, your pleasure; he didn’t care about his, only yours. 

His hand moved back to your thigh as he pulled it up to his chest, hooking your leg over his shoulder. Your moans grew louder as his thrusts deepened, his cock hitting deeper and harder as the knot in your stomach came back quicker. He wrapped his arm around your thigh and let go of your hand, reaching down to rub your clit between his fingers. You grasped the grass tightly between your fingers as he slammed into you over and over; it was too much; you felt like you were gonna burst. 

With one more rub of your clit, you came undone, moaning out his name and coming around him. “Fuck..!” he cursed as he felt you coming around him; his thrusts got more sloppy as he thrust into you a few more times before spilling inside you with a soft moan. He held your leg tightly as he came down from his high, looking down at you as he watched you relax. He gently pulled out of you and listened to the soft whine you made, watching his release spill out of you and onto the grass. 

He fixed your underwear and pulled your dress back up over your chest with a small chuckle. “Come on, let’s get you back…” He tucked himself back in his pants and pulled them up before picking you up in his arms and carrying you back to your shared tent. Once the two of you made it back, he set you down on the mess of blankets and cleaned you up with one of his dirty shirts.

You watched as he cleaned you up, smiling at his gentle touch. “I love you…” you spoke softly, your throat slightly dry from earlier. He looked up at you and paused for a second before he put the shirt down and grunted, lying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. “Yeah, yeah…” he murmured as he pressed his lips against your temple. “Get some rest…” he brushed the hair from your face. 

You let out a small hum as you felt his lips against your head. “Alright, alright…” you sighed and cuddled into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and closing your eyes. He watched as you fell asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest as it made his heart race. “I love ya... Sunshine,” he whispered against your hair before falling asleep beside you. The two of you slept soundly in the comfort of each other's arms, your thoughts clear and your hearts beating in one together.

Ty for reading :))) hopefully this smut was good I'm still getting the hang of it ♡😵‍💫

@moonbaby6

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — i.

intro | next

your curtains were yanked open, and sunlight poured into your small bedroom, a sharp assault that had you squinting before you could fully process it. the tall, lanky silhouette of your best friend standing in front of the window made it clear who was to blame for your rude awakening. 

“daryl,” you groaned, though it came out more like a whine, pulling your pillow over your head in a futile attempt to block out the light. “what the hell? it’s like six am. go away.

“it’s actually ten,” daryl drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. you didn’t have to look to know he was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed like he hadn’t just barged into your room uninvited. “you’re wastin’ the whole day.”

“it’s not ten,” you muttered, clutching the pillow tighter. 

“it’s definitely ten,” he countered, the smirk practically audible in his voice. “c’mon, get up.” 

“no,” you said stubbornly, burrowing further into your blankets. “it’s my first day off in weeks. let me sleep.”

the silence that followed should’ve been your first warning. daryl wasn’t the type to give up easily, and quiet usually meant he was up to no good. you had barely a second to realise this before the pillow was ripped from your grasp and tossed across the room. 

“daryl dixon!” you screeched, sitting up so fast that your vision blurred for a second. if looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ashes and bone. “you’re such a jerk! why can’t you just let me sleep in?”

he shrugged his shoulders, completely unfazed, the fainted hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “you done complainin’, or do i gotta drag you outta bed?”

you glanced at the clock on your nightstand, the red numbers glaring back at you: 10:17. damn it. he was right— and that only made it worse. 

“why are you even here?” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “what could possibly be so important that you had to wake me up like this?”

daryl stepped back towards the window, peering out like he hadn’t already made his mind up. “figured we’d take the truck out to the creek,” he said simply, shrugging. then, as casually as if it were his own, he plucked your pack of cigarettes off the dresser and slid one between his lips. 

you rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you felt the corners of your mouth twitch. that was daryl— gruff and infuriatingly persuasive. “and you couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour to suggest that?”

“it is a reasonable hour,” he shot back, raising an eyebrow at you. “you’re just mad i interrupted your beauty sleep.” 

“ugh,” you groaned, but swung your legs over the side of the bed anyway. “fine. but next time, maybe consider knocking instead of staging a home invasion.”

“no promises,” he replied with a smirk as he lit the cigarette and tossing the pack back onto your dresser. 

as you rummaged through your drawer for something to wear, daryl had now moved to the door frame, leaning against it as he watched you lazily. “where’s your old man, anyway?” he asked, his tone casual but curious. 

“visiting my granddad,” you replied, tugging a t-shirt over your head. “he drove out to kentucky yesterday. said he’d probably be gone for a few weeks.” 

daryl nodded, his expression unreadable. you knew he didn’t care much for your dad— probably for a good reason —but he rarely said anything outright. 

“that why you’re off today?”

“yep. first real day off in forever.” you turned to him, hands on your hips. “and i was gonna sleep in, but then you showed up.” 

“like i said,” he drawled, pushing off the doorframe, “you’re wastin’ the day.” 

the creek wasn’t far from the trailer park, just a short drive down the winding dirt roads that snaked through your small town. daryl kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting out the open window, the breeze ruddling his hair. you sat beside him, letting the warm air whip through your own as the fields blurred past in shades of beige and gold. 

once daryl had pulled the truck up under a tree, you were glad the creek was as serene as you’d hoped, the water reflecting the endless blue sky above. you kicked off your shoes and waded in up to your ankles, savouring the cool relief as the ripples lapped gently against your skin. 

daryl lingered on the bank, lighting another cigarette before settling under the shade of a tree. 

“you always pick the best spots to nap,” you called out to him teasingly, splashing a little water in his direction. 

“someone’s gotta keep an eye on you,” he shot back, smirking as smoke curled lazily from his lips. 

you rolled your eyes, but his words carried a familiar weight. daryl had always been there— steady and dependable, even when everything else in your life felt like it was constantly shifting. 

by the time the sun climbed higher in the sky, you were lying side by side on the grass, staring up at the blue sky being filtered through the leaves of the trees. the hum of summer surrounded you, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. 

“think this summer’s gonna be different?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. 

daryl turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “different how?”

“i don’t know,” you murmured, shrugging. “just… different.” 

he didn’t answer right away, his expression thoughtful. finally, he said, “maybe.” 

for a moment, the world felt quiet and still, like it was holding its breath. daryl’s gaze lingered, and there was something unspoken in his eyes that made your chest ache in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 

“c’mon,” he said eventually, standing up and offering you a hand. “let’s get back before merle gets all twisted up about us takin’ the truck.”

you took his hand, his palm rough and warm against yours. as you followed him back to the truck, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this summer really would be different— different in was you weren’t sure you were ready for.

hi guys !! i do apologise that this chapter is so short but i promise that they will get longer as we go along ! my uploading schedule may be a bit sporadic sometimes as i am having some issues in my personal life but i hope it'll get better soon

thank you for your support! if you enjoyed, give this a like/reblog and if you'd like to be added to my tag list, comment below!

[pretty-red-garnet]

Happiness At The End Of The World

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • Road/Prison • Fluff

A/N: First time writing for TWD. Excuse any mistakes please! I’ve never written for Daryl before, so I’m sorry if he’s out of character or anything like that. This was just for fun, but would anyone be interested in sending requests? Let me know and maybe I’ll write some more.

     You didn't know being truly scared until after the end of the world. Until now.

     Lori held Carl to her closely. Her ever growing belly was sticking out of the thick blanket she had herself and Carl cuddled under a little. Rick was off taking watch, he had grown distant and cold, but who can blame him.

     Everyone else was supposed to be sleeping, but from the freezing cold, you're positive no one is, just laying there with their eyes closed and hoping that was enough.

     This winter was bitter and freezing. Being out in the elements most nights certainly didn't help. Sometimes your group would find a cabin or warehouse to hole up in, but walkers usually took that from you quickly. The cold meant most animals were gone, causing walkers to wonder deeper into the forest looking for food. Nowhere was safe.

     You roll over on the hard ground. You couldn't stand to look at Lori and her son any longer. She wasn't going to make it much longer, everybody knew. As her belly grew, her face just got slimmer and slimmer. The thought of the poor woman having to give birth out here terrified you. You shivered a bit at the thought.

     A blanket being thrown over you startled you. You looked up to find Daryl looking back, fixing the blanket so it covered your back.

     "You're shiverin'," he whispers. You sit up a little.

     "Everyone's cold. I'm ok, take your blanket back." You go to take it up but Daryl pushes your arms down.

     "I'm goin' to take over for Rick anyway. Keep it." He walks away with that. You settle down again. Daryl was probably the kindest, most selfless people you had ever met, even if he could be a little... surly.

     He cared through actions, not words. This wasn't the first time he had given you his blanket, although you argued a little every time. He was also the first one to give up his food portions if he thought Lori or Carl didn't have enough, or give Beth his gloves if her hands trembled too much. He always put others before himself.

     It was what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

     Ever since the first time you saw him, you knew he wasn't what everyone else thought he was. You were one of the first at the quarry camp, having been picked up by Glenn during a run to the city. Daryl came after with his loudmouth of an older brother.

     Daryl was a hothead then, too caught up in what his brother wanted him to be, but you always knew there was something else there. Especially with the way he always provided fresh meat for the group, or was the first to volunteer for night watches so others could sleep.

     And then with Sofia, always looking for that little girl. He never lost hope for her. Even if it didn't go how everyone wanted it to, it gave Carol hope, which was what she really needed then.

     Daryl had grown a lot since then, since being on the road after you lost the farm. He became your best friend and someone everyone relied on. Your provider and hunter. It was a no brainer why you fell in love with the man.

     The next morning everyone was up and moving again. You were hoping to find some roofed shelter. Lori was maybe 6 months along now. She was getting bigger and couldn’t keep up as well anymore. You needed to hunker down.

     Luckily, the group had found some fuel for the cars. Hopefully you could get a little farther this way and find a good place to hole up for a while.

     But before you left, you went with Daryl to check the woods one last time. A few squirrels or even a rabbit could go a long way right now. You followed him with quiet footsteps, he had his crossbow in front of him.

     He suddenly stopped, so suddenly you almost plowed into his back. He turned around to face you and shook his head.

     "Nothin' out here, might at well head back. We're just burning daylight," he said, angry at himself. You nodded and tried to give a small, reassuring smile, but you were sure it wasn't convincing. He didn't say anything, but he grabbing your arm lightly to lead you back to where everyone was waiting by the road. You're used to the casual contact by now, but you still appreciated it.

     "You think we'll find somewhere?" You suddenly ask, voicing your worries. You always did around Daryl. "Somewhere for Lori to have her baby."

     "Mhm hm." He nods and bites the inside of his mouth like he always did. "We gotta."

     Simple as that.

Luckily, Rick had found a little cabin in the woods later that day. There were no windows, just boarded up wood planks, but they did an ok job at keeping most cold out. The fire was nice too.

Daryl was sitting on the steps keeping watch and you decided to join him. It had been a bit since you two had been together and talked, and you missed it. Missed his smile and how he blushed when you and Carol teased him. Everyone had been so stressed by the barren winter and Lori, the three of you didn't joke anymore.

"Hey," you said as the dropped next to him. He nodded as he took a drag from his cigarette. "Those will kill you ya know." You smiled at him. "I might just hide them from you."

He just shrugged, didn't smile either. He must've noticed your crestfallen expression because he gave you a lousy half smile afterwords. It didn't meet his eyes, so you didn't try to make him laugh again.

"Well you were right. We found somewhere." He scoffed.

"Not much of a place." He took one last drag and finally put out the cigarette, it was just filter now.

"It's enough. Has a roof, nice fire." You shrugged and rested your head on your knees, trying to stifle a yawn. He'd make you go inside if he knew you were tired, and you just wanted to be with him.

"Why ain't you inside then?" You shrugged and gave him the brightest smile you could muster up in your exhausted state.

"And miss all the fun out here with you? Never!" He just shook his head but he let a little smile crack this time. Your grin got larger at the sight. He nudged you with his shoulder. You went to nudge him back but instead of pulling away, you melted against his arm. He tensed a second but relaxed quickly.

"Falling asleep on me?" Daryl asked lowly.

"No..." you mumble, eyes slipping closed. The last thing you feel before slipping into unconsciousness was fingers lightly smoothing down your hair.

     You woke up slowly from sunlight in your face and nearly forgot where you were. You were warm and cozy and almost didn't move, until you realized you were in Daryl's lap. You got up with a start, blushing and embarrassed.

     "Daryl, you should've woke me up! God, i slept on you all night?" He nodded and his own checks were a little pink. He was biting his thumb.

     "You haven't been sleepin..." he said with a shrug. Your face darkened even more. He could be so damn cute without even knowing it. Being so caring and sweet like that.

     "You neither, no one has."

     "You looked comfortable... didn't wanna move you." He got up with a groan and outstretched a hand to help you. You grabbed it and smiled. "'sides, kept me pretty warm."

      You giggled a little and he dropped his head with a embarrassed smile. You turned your head to the sound of movement inside. Daryl's cheeks were still a little red when you looked back at him, but he tilted his head towards the door.

     "We better get inside before little Shane eats our breakfast." You smack him lightly on the shoulder and shake your head at him, but a smile cracks anyway. You missed this.

     It was another painful couple months before you found the prison. It looked like a castle now, a safe haven, protected from walkers with two rows of those beautiful tall fences. It took one afternoon to block off a section of the courtyard, and you were ecstatic. Everyone was grinning. This was the most room everyone had in months to roam free.

     The fire in front of you was warm and nice. It was cool tonight, comfortable after the hot and sweaty day. Carol had gone to bring Daryl some food because as she'd said, he wouldn't eat if not bothered. They were standing on top of a bus not far, you can see them laughing and chatting together. You smiled a little just watching, Daryl seemed a little lighter.

     They came back soon after to Beth and Maggie singing. Daryl dropped himself next to you and Carol sat down not far. You clapped a little and smiled at the girls when they finished. Beth smiled a little bashfully at you while Maggie cuddled up to Glenn.

     You leaned up against Daryl a little, watching Rick do laps around as Hershel mentioned that he would've found a breach by now. Lori went to talk to him. Daryl was fiddling with a loose string on the seam of your shirt.

     "You gonna fall asleep on me again?" He asks teasingly. You turn your head to face him and stick your tongue out a little. Your face falls when you notice just how close both your faces are. You turn away again and Carol catches your eye. She looks between the two of you quickly and widens her eyes in a 'do something!' manner.

     Daryl continues to play with the string, but he seems extra distracted, like he also was taken aback by the proximity. Maybe it was your imagination, you're pretty positive Daryl doesn't feel how you do, and that's ok.

     Your friendship was something you didn't want to risk, ever, even if both Carol and Maggie and even Beth at one point had tried to convince you to make a move.

“Daryl is too shy to make the first move, it's up to you!" Carol's voice rings in your head.

     "He's in love with you, Y/N. You just can't see it," Maggie had said before.

     But Daryl was too important to risk. A confession would either push him away from you or he'd play along not to hurt you or make things awkward. Neither sounded good. Your relationship with him was good as is, even if you wished some nights it was more.

     "You good?" Daryl asks.

     "Huh? Yeah, why?"

     "Looked lost in thought is all." He shrugs and leans back against the grass, causing you to fall back next to him. Most others were ready to sleep too, other than Rick who was taking watch.

     "Just... thinking."

     "'Bout what?" It took you a second to think of something to say. You couldn't exactly say, 'oh just about how I'm in love with you and how everyone is convinced you love me too. Nothing much.'

     "If we could be safe here." Daryl nods and pats your hand that was resting between you both. The contact wasn't anything new, but with your mind thinking what it was, it sent a spark to your heart.

     "We'll make it safe," he says finally.

     The next day is full of killing more walkers to empty out a cellblock. The thought of sleeping in a cell might have made you dizzy before the end of the world, but now it was the equivalent of a five star hotel. Safe and sound and away from walkers. It helped that you tried to forget it was a cell and thought of it more as just a room, just four walls.

     You dropped your bags down on the cell floor. It had blood smeared on the wall but the bed seemed clean... enough. It was right across from the catwalk, which Daryl claimed. It seemed he didn't think of the cells like you, instead refusing to 'sleep in a cage,' as he said.

     That night was more uncomfortable than you thought it'd be. You had grown used to having your group, who you considered family now, always in eye sight of you. It was strange not to have them all around you. It was crazy, they were in the same cellblock, but it made your skin crawl anyway. You had grown used to felling the familiar presence of theirs around you as you slept.

     If you leaned off your bed slightly and peaked out your door, you could just barely see Daryl's feet sticking out of his blanket. He was tossing and turning. Maybe he had the same problem?

     You crept out of the bed and made your way outside your cell. Daryl was staring at the ceiling and fiddling with an arrow, or bolt as he'd corrected you with a snap back at the quarry.

"Can't sleep?" You whispered lowly. He shakes his head.

"You neither?"

"No..." You rub your hands on your arms, trying to fight the chill going through you.

"You ok?" Daryl asks with a worried look on his face. He sits up and pats the bed next to him, and you quickly sit down.

"Yeah... it's nothing. It's stupid," you reprimand yourself. It was a little ridiculous that you couldn't sleep in your own cell, like a child. Hell, even Carl was ok in his cell.

"C'mon," Daryl prods and bumps his shoulder to yours. "Tell me."

"I guess I'm just lonely in there... I got used to having you and everyone around me." You shake your head and close your eyes in embarrassment. "I'm bothering you, this is so stupid. I'm sorry, get some sleep, Daryl."

You go to stand but Daryl is quicker, grabbing your arm lightly to stop you. You slowly sit back and see his face is reddened.

"Just... stop," he says quietly with red cheeks. "Ain't bothering me, you could never bother me. I care 'bout you. And you ain't stupid either, don't say that shit."

He looked like he wanted nothing more than the earth to swallow him, but he pushed through. Your face was just as red as his now. Daryl was a man of few words and didn't often say out loud how he felt for others. He just acted. So the sudden declaration surprised you.

"Ok..." you utter. You weren't too sure what to say, this is pretty much the most open he had been with you. "Sorry."

"Jesus don't apologize, just..." He stops and bites his lip, fumbling his hands together. "I don't know what I'm doin.'"

"What do you mean?" You ask with furrowed brows. Daryl looks at you, face flushed and trembling hands. "Daryl?"

"I fucking love you, alright?" He scoffs and looks away. "So... you ain't bothering me talking to me."

You're speechless. You just stare at him slack jawed and in shock. Daryl obviously takes your stunned silence as rejection, and gets up abruptly.

"Daryl, I—"

"Forget it," he mumbled and takes the steps two at a time to escape from you. You recover from your shock after a minute and stagger up, scurrying down the stairs to try and catch the man.

You look around outside, trying to find him in the pitch black. Finally, you spot him leaning against the railing of one of watch towers. You admire him for a second trying to figure out what you'd say once you get to him. You hesitantly walk up to the watch tower, climb the stairs and soon your staring at his angel wings.

You takes slow steps until your standing beside him. You don't say anything for a second, just stare out at the trees next to him. He's smoking but you can see his hands are shaky and he shifts his weight from foot to foot awkwardly.

"You don't gotta say anything. It's fine, just forget it," Daryl mumbles. You're a little surprised he broke the silence first, but it's welcome.

"I don't want to forget it," you say. Daryl glances at you shyly. "Can you look at me, please?"

Daryl does so, his eyes dancing all across your face anxiously. The muscles in his jaw are tense and clench with nerves. You slowly move a hand to rest one on his cheek. He watches closely, eyes bouncing from your face to you hand, but he let's you.

You stroke his face, along his stubble before brushing his hair aside a little. It's longer than when you met him, overgrown and in need of a trim. You smile at him softly.

"I love you, too," you murmur to him. "And i would've told you that if you didn't run away from me so fast."

He looks down guiltily, but you just smile and turn his head to meet your eyes again. His pupils are blown, cheeks flushed, and lips are parted. He's never looked as beautiful as he does right now.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask. He doesn't answer, but leans down to meet you halfway. His kiss is light at first, but you both melt together and soon it's hard to tell when you end and he begins. His hands are hesitant at first when they grab at your waist, but soon he's more confident. Pulling you closer and closer to him, pushing his lips to you harder.

You meet him every step of the way. Gripping at his hair and back of his neck, pulling at him so he doesn't let you go. Your back is pressed against the cold railing now, but you barely even register it.

The mind blowing kiss ends all too soon. You follow his lips for once last peck when he pulls away. He smiles and caresses your check ever so softly.

"I love you," you say to him again with a grin. He smiles timidly and dips his head down shyly to your neck. He nuzzles into your shoulder, placing little hesitant kisses to your neck and collarbone. You giggle and play with his hair, giving the top of his head some kisses of your own.

"Oh god damn it." A sudden voice from the watch tower makes Daryl just about jump away from you. You look wildly inside the tower to see Maggie. In your bliss, neither you or Daryl heard her come up. Daryl's face is bright red like a tomato, and you're sure you aren't better.

"Maggie! We uh, didn't hear you..." you say awkwardly. She has her arms crossed and tries to look mad, but her face is breaking out slowly into a grin. "So... what's up?"

Daryl beside you isn't doing better, wringing his hands and looking anywhere but Maggie. His hair is tousled around from your roaming hands and you bite your lip to stop you from curling into yourself in embarrassment. You can't believe you didn't hear Maggie coming up and she caught you like that...

"I lost a damn bet with Carol! I said it's be after the baby comes when you two would finally get together!" She shakes her head and fakes an angered sigh. "Anyway, I heard you two leave and wanted to make sure you were ok. You'd been gone a while."

Maggie's grin could rival the Cheshire cat's. She rises her brows up and down suggestively. You cover your face with your hands and she laughs.

Finally, Daryl, having recovered from his embarrassment quicker than you, grabs your hand and takes it off your face. He gives you a hard and sloppy kiss on the cheek and begins to lead you to the door of the watchtower.

"Better pay up with Carol then," he says and just about pushes you out the door hastily. You hear Maggie's near manic laughter behind you as you let Daryl's tugging hand lead you back to your cell.

Maybe the end of the world wasn't all bad.

[rickydoodahgrimez]

𝞋𝞎 ─────── 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: the governor seems to have taken you hostage because of his last conversation with rick. but only if he knew that taking you was the worst thing he could have done.

warnings: swearing, gore, violence, kidnapping, angst, torture, yelling, descriptions of injury & blood, weapons use, death and a bit of possessiveness (from rick)

word count: 4.0 k

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄.

Not even when his dead ex—wife Lori was about to give birth and they didn't have a place for her to deliver the baby. And not when the farm was burning down and they were on the road for months, starving, desperate, barely hanging on.

But this was different. This was you.

You, who had been by his side since he met you. You, who saw through the cracks in his armor, who never flinched when he fell apart behind closed doors. You, who held Judith like she was your own, whispering soft reassurances when the nights were too quiet, too dangerous.

You, who stood beside him, gun in hand, every single time, ready to protect your family. You, who made him believe—if only for a second—that there was something worth surviving for.

And now you were gone.

His hands were trembling, but he clenched them into his fists, multiple times out of anger, as the quietness of the prison enveloped him. Perhaps, it was too quiet.

Not the calming kind of the quiet, but the kind of quiet that settled deep into Rick's chest and squeezed, making it hard for him to even breathe.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him—Daryl, Hershel, Glenn, Carol, Maggie, Michonne, Tyreese—but he didn't care. All he cared about was you and the thought of you being alone, out there with him, the Governer, made him sick to his fucking core.

“We need to go. Now.” His voice was rough, strained, and held a barely restrained edge of panic.

“Rick.” Hershel’s voice was calm and firm but all Rick heard was the static buzzing in his ears. “You’re no good to her like this.”

Rick’s head snapped up, his jaw tightening. “You don’t get it. We don’t have time. Every second we waste, she’s—” He cut himself off, his throat tightening painfully. He couldn’t say it. “I ain’t sittin’ here, not while she’s out there with him.”

Daryl shifted beside him, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes dark and unreadable. “Ain’t sayin’ we don’t go after her.” He said, voice low and even. “But we go in half—cocked, we’re in trouble. She needs us alive.”

Rick swiped a hand over his face, the stubble scraping his palm. His breath was coming too fast, too shallow. The thought of you—hurt, trapped—sent something ugly clawing inside his chest. He couldn’t let himself picture it. Couldn’t let himself feel it.

“She ain’t got time.” He said, his voice quieter now but no less desperate. “We gotta go now. We don’t wait. I ain’t lettin’ that son of a bitch keep her another second.”

His gaze flicked around the group, searching for any hesitation, any sign of doubt. He started walking, his hand on his rifle, his jaw clenched and a fire in his eyes. He was about to open the cell door to leave when a figure appeared in front of him.

Michonne appeared in front of him, her katana strapped to her back, staring him in the eyes.

“Michonne.” Rick gritted out, staring at her furiously. “Move.”

Michonne didn’t budge. “You can’t just walk out there alone.”

Rick’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on the strap of his rifle. “I ain't askin’.”

Maggie, standing with her arms crossed, exchanged a look with Glenn, worry plain on her face. “Rick, we all want her back. But we go in now, we’re walkin’ into a slaughter.”

Rick didn't turn around but his chest heaved. He knew they were right, but logic didn’t matter in his mind—not when it came to you. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t breathe right.

“She’s tough.” Carol said softly, stepping forward. “She’s strong. She’s holdin’ on. And we are gonna get her back, Rick.”

Rick shook his head and stumbled back. “I shoulda’ been there.” He muttered under his breath. “Shoulda’—shoulda’ protected her.”

His voice cracked, and his shoulders tensed when he realised you weren't there in that moment to put a hand on his shoulder and reassure him.

Daryl clapped a hand on his shoulder instead and Rick flinched at the unfamiliar warmth from his hand. “We’re gonna fix it. But you gotta keep your head, aight?”

Rick closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. “I need her back. I can’t—” He stopped, his throat tightening again. “We move out at sunrise. No longer.”

And if anyone had a problem with it, they could fucking stay behind for all he cares.

A dull throbbing pain echoes through your skull, dragging you out of your unconsciousness. A bright light immediately hit your eyes and your head lolled to the side, immediately squinting your eyes when a sharp sting stabbing your temple, where dried blood lay.

You shifted more and your felt the cold bite of the chair, sending a shiver up your spine. Your froze and tried to move more, only to realise that your eyes were tied behind your back.

A low groan escaped your lips as you blinked, your vision swimming in and out of focus. There was a dim light above you, casting a dark shadow across the room and then you saw him.

The Governor.

He sat on a chair, in the corner, legs crossed watching you with amusement gleaming in his one eye. “Look who’s finally awake.” He drawled. “I was startin’ to think you wouldn’t make it.”

You swallowed, tasting copper in your mouth and rolled your jaw, trying to relieve the pain. “Sorry to disappoint.” You muttered, voice hoarse. “Hope you dint’ miss me too much.”

The Governor chuckled. “I knew Rick had a thing for the feisty ones.”

Your stomach churned at the mention of Rick, but you didn't show how it affected you and rolled your eyes. “That why you dragged me here? To talk about my love life? Aren't you a gossip girl?”

The Governor gritted his teeth, irritation flicking through his eyes as he stood up, walking towards you. “Actually, darlin’, I brought you here, not only because Rick defied my orders and now I'm teaching him a lesson, but I wanted to see if that smart mouth of yours would hold up after a few. . . reminders.”

“Well sorry to break it to you, darlin’,” You tilted your head and smirked. “But you're not as scary as you think.”

It seemed he didn't like that very much by his fist connecting to your right cheek. Your head snapped to the side and blood dripped from your lip. You let out a ragged breath and your turned your head to face him again, a smirk still playing on your lips.

“Is that really how hard you can go?” You rasped out. “Rick hits harder.”

His eye twitched and his fist flew at your face again, and again, making your vision blur. Your ears were ringing and you were swimming in and out and focus but you refused to let yourself break. Not in front of him. Not ever.

You tasted the sweet but salty metallic taste of blood in your mouth again but you swallowed it down and a weak laugh erupted from your mouth, making the Governor's jaw to clench in irritation.

“You're fucking weak.” You slurred, earning another punch to your face. Your head snapped to the side and you tilted your head back. “Come on, really? I thought you were like, the big bad wolf.”

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” He snapped, his voice low.

“Not when I'm having this much fun.” You smiled fakely and met his gaze head on.

His hand shot out, grabbing your chin in a bruising grip, forcing your head back. “You think this is fun?” He sneered, tightening his fingers on your jaw. “Let's see how fun it will be when Rick watches in front of his very eyes as I kill you.”

He let go of your jaw and pushed your head backwards. You pouted mockingly and frowned at him. “Are you sure you want to kill me when I have this pretty face?”

Another punch landed on your face because of your comment and your head snapped to the side once again. You whistled and you used most of your strength to loll you head back so you were facing him.

“You're getting really worked up.” You pointed out, amusement gleaming in your eyes. You then took notice of his knuckles that were now dripping blood. “You should really go and clean that up before it gets any worse. You know, don't want your blood mixing with mine. That's so unhygienic.”

There was obvious sarcasm in your voice but the Governor didn't seem to comment or do anything about it. His jaw clenched and a chuckle escaped his mouth. “I can't wait till’ I wipe that grin off your fucking face.”

“Good luck, darlin’.” You called out mockingly as he walked towards the door.

“Let's hope Rick hurries,” He said over his shoulder and then turned to look at you. His eyes roamed over your bloody face but they landed on your bare thighs. “I’d hate for him to find you in worse shape.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you in the dimly lit room. You let out a shaky breath eyes flickering to your bare thighs, no trousers, only thing protecting was your underwear.

A cold shiver went down your spine as the weight of his words draped over you like a blanket. Your breath hitched but you refused to show fear — the sick bastard wanted that.

And you would never give him what you wanted.

Swallowing, you shifted in your chair, testing the tightness of the ropes around the wrists. Your jaw clenched as the ropes didn't give in, not even a little. A frustrated sigh erupted from you and you eventually gave up, trying to free your hands.

You looked around, trying to look for something to help you out but there was absolutely nothing in sight for you to use. You couldn’t even use the chair to help you because it was metal. What the fuck?

Sighing, you slumped back into your chair and dropped your head forward. You shut your eyes closed and tried to steady your breathing but you only had one thought one thing in your mind.

Rick, please hurry.

Rick’s hands moved with precise precision, loading rounds into his rifle. His jaw was tight and his eyes were dark with anger as he loaded a magazine in his pocket.

There was no way in hell he was waiting until sunrise.

His breath was ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as his hands moved with urgency. The thought of you out there, alone, with him—it made his chest tighten, made his fingers curl a little too tightly around the rifle in his hands. Every second that passed felt like another knife twisting in his chest.

He needed you. Now.

He put down the rifle and grabbed his revolver, slipping it into his holster, when a voice cut through the quiet night.

“You didn't think that you would go without us, did you?”

Rick froze, fingers hovering over the rifle. Slowly, he looked up, his sharp blue eyes finding the rest of them. Standing there was Michonne with her arms crossed and her katana resting easily on her side.

Daryl, with his crossbow already in his hand, a knowing look on his face like he already expected this. Glenn stood next to him, a rifle slung over his shoulder, a tense but resolute expression on his face. Maggie stood behind him, arms crossed and Tyreese stood next to her, nodding at Rick firmly.

Rick sighed, running a hand down his stubble. “Knew I couldn’t slip out without you noticing, huh?”

Glenn stepped forward with a tired smile. “We knew you’d try and sneak off while we were sleeping.”

Daryl huffed, stepping forward with Glenn. “Ain’t your fight alone, man.”

Rick exhaled, nodding, his glaze flickering between all of them. He didn’t necessarily like leaning on others but right now he was very grateful. He swallowed before looking over at them once again.

“Where’s Carol?” He asked gruffly, reaching for his holster.

“She’s stayin’ back.” Maggie answered. “Lookin’ after Judith and Carl with my daddy. Said someone had to keep things together here while we go.”

Rick nodded again, putting the rifle strap over his shoulder. He couldn't argue with that. Carol was smart—she knew what had to be done. But right now, he wasn't focused on that.

“Alright,” Rick said, his voice firm. “Let's go.”

And as they moved through the prison, Rick only had one thing in mind. The Governer had you. And Rick was coming for him.

Rick had been angsty the entire drive to Woodbury. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles turned white as he sped down the road. His foot pressed harder on the gas pedal was his other leg shaked.

The truck engine roared in response of going faster but Rick didn’t care. All that was on his mind was you.

Michonne had looked at him and had told him to calm down before he drives them all into a ditch. Her exact words.

Her words didn’t exactly help much but no one expected it to. He lost his mind when it came towards you and he was already too far gone. The only thing that was keeping him afloat was that he would deliver you home, safely, in his arms.

However, his mind drifted off to the negatives that made his chest close up. If he couldn't find you. If he touched you—

Rick’s nostrils flared from where he was walking down one of the corridors of the Governor’s house. Explosions were going off in the background which was Glenn and Maggie’s doing.

Footsteps followed behind him as he kicked one of the doors open and quickly looked inside to see if you were there. He repeated the same process for a few more doors down and panic clawed in his chest when he saw you weren’t in any of them.

Shit. Where were you—

“Rick! She's in ‘ere!”

Rick ran the fastest he could in his life. He had his gun raised if anyone else was in the room but the gun in his hand slowly clattered on the floor as he took you in. It felt like as if time slowed.

The sight of you nearly took him to his knees in despair.

Slumped in a chair, all bruised and bleeding. His hands trembled as he roamed his eyes all over you, taking in every cut and every bruise. Your head hung forward, your face swollen and battered and a trail of blood ran down your temple. Your trousers were gone, leaving you in your underwear.

He crossed the room in three long strides, falling to his knees before you with a shaky exhale. His hands were cradling your face with such gentleness that you wouldn't even know that he was angry, if you didn't see the violence in his eyes.

“Oh God,” He murmured, his voice breaking as he stroked your cheek, where dry blood was. “I'm ‘ere, sweetheart, I'm ‘ere.”

At his touch, your eyelids slowly opened and you smiled weakly as you saw him in front of you. “Fucking finally.”

At your words, Rick let out a weak laugh as Daryl worked on untying the ropes behind your back. He pressed a long kiss against your temple and he shut his eyes as he felt tears coming to them. “I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry.”

Once Daryl got your ropes undone, you winced and rolled your shoulders from being in that position for so long. Rick’s hands were on you again, checking you for any more injuries he missed. His eyes landed on your thighs and if possible, his eyes darkened even more as he saw bruises litter all over your thighs to your legs.

He lifted his eyes up to yours but this time, his voice was low and dangerous. “Did he touch you?”

You shook you head, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Not like that. Dickhead just used his fists.”

Rick let out a shuddering breath and took off his jacket, placing it on your legs before picking you up bridal style, making sure you were comfortable.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard explosions going on outside, and you craned your head to look up at Rick as he carried you. “Why do I hear explosions?”

Rick walked down the dimly lit corridor, with you in his arms and the rest following behind him, weapons ready. “That's Glenn, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you racked your brain for a ‘Glenn’. “Our Glenn? Pizza delivery guy, Glenn?”

Daryl gave you a look as he walked beside Rick, crossbow in hand. “You kno’ any other Glenn, sunshine?”

You shrugged. “Glen Powell.”

“I think he might be dead by now, sweetheart.” Rick huffed out a laugh as he turned to walk down another corridor. However, the laugh abruptly stopped when he saw there was door at the end of the corridor, a few metres away from where they were supposed to leave.

His eyes darkened, the reminder of what happened to you but then he looked down at you. You looked up at him, somehow knowing what he was thinking and nodded.

Rick took that as consent and gently handed you over to Daryl, who put his crossbow on his back and carried you in his arms. Rick kissed your forehead and you murmured a ‘be safe’ to him.

“Get her out of here. Keep her safe.” Daryl nodded at Rick and left through the exit, towards the outside. Everyone else followed him except Michonne, who looked at him.

“You need help?” Michonne asked and Rick immediately shook his head.

“Nah, need to do this myself.” He gritted out and walked towards the door. He kicked the door open, seeing the back of the Governor and he felt something indescribable rise in him.

I found you, you son of a bitch.

The Governor barely had time to register what was happening before Rick slammed him against the wall, his forearm pressing hard against his throat. The room was dark, the only source of light coming from the corner, casting shadows across Rick’s face and the Governor almost shuddered.

He looked like he came out a fucking nightmare.

“What the hell were you going to do with her?” Rick growled, his voice low, and trembling with barely restrained fury. His eyes were wild, his face inches away from the Governor’s. “You sick son of a bitch.”

The Governor smirked, his one good eye locking onto Rick’s. “She put up a fight, I’ll give her that,” He rasped, his voice dripping with something vile. “But I was just getting started.”

Rick snapped.

His fist connected with the Governor’s face so fast and so hard that there was a sickening crack. The Governor’s head snapped to the side, blood splattering against the wall, but he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He punched him again. And again, until he fell to the floor and Rick straddled him and carried on punching him.

“You touched her?” Rick’s voice was ragged, broken, each word punctuated with another punch. “You thought you could lay a fucking hand on her?”

The Governor’s head lolled to the side, blood streaming from his nose and split lip, but Rick didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. All he could see was you, tied up, bruised, bleeding, and he suddenly went rogue.

Rick’s hands curled around the Governor’s throat, pressing down, his breathing ragged and uneven. His fingers dug into the flesh, cutting off his air, and for a moment, all that existed was the sound of the Governor’s choking gasps and the blood roaring in Rick’s ears.

“I should kill you slow.” Rick seethed, his teeth bared in a snarl. His grip only tightened, his thumbs pressing harder into the man's windpipe. “Make you suffer for what you did to her.”

The Governor clawed weakly at Rick’s arms, his face turning red, then purple. But Rick didn’t feel mercy—not for this sick son of a bitch.

“You don’t get to live.” Rick hissed, his eyes cold, empty. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind screaming at him to finish it, to make sure this shithead never laid eyes on you again.

Surprisingly, he went against his mind and got off the Governer when he heard walkers banging on the door from all the noise inside. He walked towards the door, ignoring the Governor's wheezes behind him.

“However, you don't deserve to have a quick death.” Rick stared the man in the eyes as he pulled open the door, allowing the herd of walkers to enter. The Governor’s eyes widened as he saw what Rick had done and started to scramble away.

Rick hid himself behind the door so he could watch as the walkers walked towards the smell of blood, but hidden enough so they couldn't see him.

He felt a sense of pride when the Governor let out a scream when a walker took a bite out of his arm. The Governor looked at Rick and only saw coldness in his eyes and as he walked away, he started to realise one thing.

He really shouldn’t have fucked with Rick Grimes.

Rick admired you as you slept on his lap, in the backseats of the car. Daryl was driving and Michonne was in the passenger seat. Maggie, Glenn and Tyreese were in car behind them.

His fingers gently ran through your hair as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. God, even with cuts and bruises littering your face, you were still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life.

He gently tucked you more into the blanket, making sure you don’t get cold. Because of his action, you stirred and your eyes flickered open slowly.

He noticed and started to gently run his fingers through your hair again. “I’m here,” He said softly, his voice breaking through the quiet of the vehicle. “I’ve got you. Just rest.”

There was something about his tone that made you believe him and you rested back onto his lap, eyes looking up at him. He smiled and rested his hand on your cheek, stroking it softly.

You smiled back, leaning into his hand and your eyes fluttered closed. You let out a breathy sigh and your eyes flutter open again, something like vulnerability in your eyes. “Did you. . .?”

Rick nodded before you could finish and you let out a sigh of relief and took his hand that was stroking your hair and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Thank you.”

“He had it comin’,” He replied, interlocking your fingers with his. “Shouldn’ have took what was mine.”

You chuckle and then it is silence for a few moments. “How bad do I look?”

“Exactly the same.” He said, smiling at you gently. “Left looking like the most gorgeous girl in the world, came back looking like the most gorgeous girl in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at him. “I love you.”

“Love ya’ more, sweetheart.” He replies and then starts to stroke his fingers through your hair once again. “Go back to sleep. I'll wake ya’ up when Hershel checks on you.”

You nod, exhaling through your nose softly and fluttering your eyes shut. A few minutes later, your sound asleep again, cuddling up on Rick’s lap.

He watches you for a few more moments, his hand still gently brushing over your hair, careful not to wake you. There’s a softness in his eyes that he shows around you, what the others haven't seen in a while.

You shifted in your sleep, nuzzling more into his chest and his arms instinctively tighten around you. He let out a shaky breath and rested his chin on top of your head. His mind travel to tonight’s events before he realised that none of that mattered.

All that mattered was you being in his arms and the steady of your breathing. And as the car drove back to the prison, Rick Grimes made a vow to protect you as long as he shall live.

Because without you, a piece of him was missing.

rick in this omg 😍

[zombiigrll]

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IMMUNE? ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x immune!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.1K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort?, use of y/n, blood, zombie apocalypse stuff ofc, post-terminus era, references/slight spoilers to twd 5x2 ?? petname (angel - which also did we all collectively agree that carl would call his s/o angel? i see everyone use it i have before too its so cute .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you get bit, but nothing happens. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hey guys... its been a minute... (45 days COUGH COUGH) i am so sorry i have been SO BUSY and i didnt even realize i had this fic almost completely finished in my drafts so i decided why not finally finish it!! (which is also why the ending might be a bit weak because i also have no written anything for 45 days LMAO) my favorite thing about the whole science behind zombisim is all the theories of if you could or couldn't become immune so i wanted to write a little fic because i love... zombie science.. nerd alert!!! ☝️🤓 <- me but also whats a carl grimes/zombie fanfic writer without writing at least one immunity fic!! hope u guys enjoy!!

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everyone knew you were clumsy. you'd always have to be with someone, no matter what. that's how much people worried about you.

there had been plenty of times where you had been close to getting bit, and if you were alone, you would've been bit.

but now, you and your group were back on the road after the prison had fell. you all met up at a terrible place called terminus, and almost died if carol wouldn't have shown up. it was dangerous, and terrifying. but you had carl on your side, as always. he was the person who had saved you so many times. he was like your personal bodyguard.

you guys had eventually ended up at a church with a priest named gabriel. you felt uneasy being there. gabriel seemed, well, unstable. rick saw it too, telling carl to keep his guard up.

but after a while, everyone was inside the church, laughing and having fun.

you spot bob walking outside, which catches your attention instantly. no one else really seemed to notice, so you turned over to carl.

"i'm gonna go outside."

"do you want me to go with?" he asks, immediately sitting up.

"no, it's fine. i think i saw bob go out there. i wanna go check on him." you smile at him, standing up and walking over to where you saw bob go.

but when you stepped out, he was nowhere to be found.

"bob?" you called out, walking forward a bit more as you looked around for him. "where'd you go?"

you walked a bit further, leaning your arm on a tree as you looked past further into the distance, searching for any sight of bob.

but, to your luck, you were snuck up on. you heard a growl to your side, where your arm was leaning, and then a pain shot through your forearm.

you let out a loud shriek as you fumbled for your knife, stabbing the walker who was still attached to your arm in the head. you kicked him off, breathing heavily.

you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest.

you glanced down at the walker who was now laying dead on the ground, gripping tightly on your knife as you processed what had just happened. you lifted up your pained, bleeding arm.

"no... no, oh, my god." you dropped your knife and began wiping away the blood that was profusely leaking out of your fresh bite wound. "shit..."

you stared at your arm for a moment, attempting to catch your breath while watching your own blood drip onto the floor beneath you.

the doors to the church busted open, snapping you out of your daze. carl, rick, and michonne stood at the door, staring at you.

carl stepped a bit closer. "what happened? are you okay-" he stopped as he spotted your arm. his face fell flat and his eyes widened.

"it snuck up on me.." you quietly and breathlessly responded, tears falling from your agonized face. "i was looking for bob."

rick runs up to you as he realizes you had been bit. he grabs your arm, his face a bit panicked as he starts speaking. "we have to cut it off."

"no!" you tugged your arm away from his grip, holding your arm from him. "we don't have the stuff for that!"

"stop yelling." rick sternly ordered, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. "let's go inside. i'm sure gabriel has the stuff for it."

you anxiously nodded, stepping toward the church with carl by your side.

"i'll get gabriel." michonne said, walking towards his office. "find somewhere for her to sit."

you take a seat in one of the rows, still holding your arm tightly.

"what the hell happened?" glenn asks, quickly walking over to the three of you with maggie by his side.

"she got bit." rick runs a hand through his hair. you look to your side and spot carl, just staring blankly, his expression the same as when he first saw your bite just moments before. he was speechless, and afraid.

you held your arm tighter as the pain increased, blood seeping through in between your fingers as you clenched your jaw. your breathing was progressively getting more and more ragged and uneven the more you panicked.

"i don't want you to cut my arm off.." you protested, your voice high pitched and wobbly. you closed your eyes tightly, a few tears falling from your eyes.

"we have to." rick shook his head. "otherwise you'll become one of them."

"i don't care." you sobbed, gripping tighter and tighter onto your arm. "i can't do it. i probably wouldn't survive either way, we don't have proper stuff for it." you could tell it was difficult for them to understand what you were saying through your sobs. "i just want to wait it out."

rick eyes widen, along with everyone else who were crowded around you.

carl finally steps closer, grabbing your other hand tightly. you could spot tears falling from his eyes. "please, y/n. i'll be with you, it'll be okay. please i.. i can't lose you."

you looked up at him through your lashes, pressing your lips together. "i can't, carl. i can't."

...

they had moved you to one of the rooms in the church that had something you could lay on. they tied your wrist to a pole and stood in the room with you.

you could barely keep track of what was happening. you genuinely felt fine, besides the side effects from losing blood.

"can you wrap my arm up..?" you requested. the tickling feeling of your blood dripping down your arm becoming too much, and you also wanted to test if that was what was making you feel sick.

being immune wasn't even a thought in your head yet. but you were just creeped out about not having any of the same side effects that anybody else had when they'd gotten bit. you were sweating, but you weren't feverish, that's just how the weather always was.

"yes, of course." glenn grabbed a thing of gauze out of his bag, going up to you and carefully but tightly wrapping it around the bite. he also grabbed a nearby rag to wipe the access blood that had been dripping off of your arm.

"...thanks." you sighed, looking away from everyone.

they were all just staring, waiting for something to happen. but nothing was. the awkward silence and suspense was killing you. you saw the sun starting to come up through the window, which means it had been quite a few hours since you had gotten bit.

you've seen people last a day, maybe the tiniest bit over a day, but you noticed that they always had obvious symptoms by now. and you still didn't.

you blew a raspberry, looking around the room. ".. i don't feel anything."

"what?" carl squinted in confusion, his voice still a bit brittle from crying. "like, you're numb?"

"no, like.. i don't feel any symptoms of turning." you laughed at how idiotic your sentence probably sounded to everyone.

"so, you're saying you're immune?" carls voice changed from being upset to just pure confusion.

"i don't know." you shrugged, tapping your foot on the hardwood floors. "i seriously don't know what's going on. the only time i felt sick was when it first happened and i saw my blood dripping. i feel fine right now, a little lightheaded, but i think thats from the bloodloss."

"look, theres no such thing as being 'immune.'" rick shook his head at your statement. "it might just be.. taking a while to settle in."

"dad, can you have a little faith?" carl turned to rick, glaring slightly at him before turning back at you. "i believe you."

everyone else seemed really skeptical about what was happening, exchanging confused looks with one another.

"we'll keep her in here for a little while, alright? if she still doesn't feel anything by tonight, then we'll untie her." rick sighed, looking down at you. you had been with everyone since the start, being there when carl reunited with rick and everything, so you could sense everyones panic when they first saw you get bit. and now, you could sense their pure confusion. people in our group have gotten bit before, but they'd show signs almost immediately.

"i can stay with her if you guys want to leave." carl said, sitting down right next to you. "i'll let you know if anything happens."

everyone agreed and left the room.

you laughed to yourself, looking over at the door.

"are you okay?" carl asks, looking at you anxiously.

"i'm fine." you turned your head over to look at him. "this is just so fucking weird. and we don't even know where bob went. i'm so confused right now. nothing is making sense." you let out another light laugh, shaking your head in honestly disbelief.

"maybe you're the chosen one." carl laughs, smiling at you. "i really hope you're being honest. i.. i don't think i can handle losing you."

you look at him with a lopsided smile, happy to hear how much he cared. "i wouldn't lie to you about this. i genuinely don't feel sick at all. i mean, i feel gross, but not in a 'i'm dying' way. more in a 'i just got my arm bitten into' way." you tried to make light of the situation, despite being terrified. carls expression stayed a bit worried. "..sorry, not funny. i don't want to lose you either carl. you're the best thing to ever happen to me, you know?"

his concern turned into a smile at your words. he leaned forward and hugged you tightly. all you could do was put your hand on his back, due to your other hand being tied up still.

"i love you." he mumbles into your shoulder.

you laugh, leaning your head on top of his. "i love you too."

...

a while passed, yet you still felt perfectly fine. your arm felt odd though, of course. you had been bitten into after all.

carl stayed by your side, telling you stories and just conversing with you to keep your mind and his off of the whole situation while everyone was out searching for bob.

you moved your arm up to your tied up one, itching at your tight bandages. “i want these off…” you dramatically complained.

“we should probably check on your arm anyways. even if you feel fine, there could still be something messed up with your arm.” carl says as he rotates his body towards your arm, carefully untying your arm looking at you for permission.

you nod, and he proceeds to take the bandage off. the teeth marks had dark bruises and dried blood around them, and your veins were darker and more apparent around the bite. it looked unreal.

you quickly looked away from the wound, shuddering. “holy shit.” you closed your eyes tightly.

you could hear carl stumble over his words as he tried to figure out what to say. “i… it… is it supposed to- um.. look like that?” he let out a nervous laugh, moving his hand to comfort yours.

you returned the nervous laugh, looking back at the bite momentarily. "i don't- i don't think so?"

your body was violently shaking, unsure what to do or what was going on. would you still need to cut your arm off? or would it still be fine, despite looking like that? you knew that you'd have to hide your arm for.. well, ever, if you decided not to cut your arm off. it could cause so many different issues if people outside of your group found out.

carl proceeded to grab anything he could find to clean your wound, as well as new bandages. you two sat in silence as he carefully cleaned your arm, the only sound being your light winces of pain as he applied the antibacterial ointment he luckily found.

he wrapped your arm back up and planted a quick, soft kiss onto your bandaged wound, looking back up at your flustered face with a smile afterward.

your face was hot, and you quickly averted your eyes away from his out of embarrassment.

he put his hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead, then pulled you into a hug right after. "i'm so glad you're okay."

you were shocked, but let out a flustered giggle before returning the hug. "thank you.." your smile kept growing and growing. then, the words "i love you." finally left your mouth.

he broke the hug and looked at you shocked, but then his big smile came back. "i love you, too, angel."

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[xoxo-sarah]

If the Roles Were Reversed

My Wife part 2

Part 1

↝a/n: I have been given so much love for the first part and I can't express how grateful I am for it. It fills me with so much joy when people express how much they like my work. I have been asked to make a part two and who am I to say no?

↝pairing: season 1!Daryl Dixon x wife!reader

↝warning: season 1 episodes 3 & 4, angst, death, arguing, gore, zombies, typical twd stuff, not proofread, Ed

|| 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. ||

↝⎙ 1.25.25

Daryl Dixon masterlist

“You can't go, Daryl. Listen to me-” You threw your hands around, watching Daryl pace in front of you. The peaceful expression he once had, when he had reunited with you, was wiped clean off of his face.

He was told the news about Merle and instantly became furious. No matter how much you tried to calm him, it was no use.

His brother was out there. Daryl argued that Merle would be out there looking for him if the roles were reversed.

“Listen, there are too many.” You stepped closer, trying to make him understand, “After the racket everyone made trying to leave, I bet there’s even more now.”

“They left my brother on a roof.” You could tell he was trying his hardest not to yell at you. He was never one to take his anger out on the one person he loves more than anything in the world. He was always gentle with you, just like you deserved.

Sighing, you didn’t know how to counter that. As much as everyone who was waiting on the other side of the R.V wanted you to talk some sense into your husband, Daryl had a point. After all, he had gone out to find you, even against Merle telling him not to.

If it had been Daryl who they had left behind, you would’ve already been in the city, searching. Even if you had to go by yourself, it wouldn’t matter.

None of that changed the fact that it’s dangerous. You couldn’t let him go.

You just got him back.

“He was out of control, you know how he can get. I don’t think they had a choice.” You whispered, trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

Daryl’s nostrils flared, as he tried to calm himself. He didn’t want to lash out on you, he never did. But he was about to break. “Merle is a prick, but he’s my brother.”

With that, Daryl walked around the R.V, shoulder checking Shane, who looked disappointed that you hadn’t helped de-escalate the situation. Daryl was stubborn, there wasn’t much you could do.

Carol quickly went back to what she was doing, not wanting to seem like she was being nosey. Which didn’t do much considering everyone in the camp was waiting. After the brawl that had happened when Daryl was told about Merle, everyone was interested in how this whole situation would turn out. Everyone else tried hiding their obvious interest as Daryl came into view. You walked behind him, head hung low, defeated and slightly scared.

Daryl walked toward the box truck, ready to leave.

Rick walked over to you, “So?”

“You shook your head, “He’s not gonna change his mind. I tried.”

He nodded in understanding. Lori looked on at the interaction. She had been the one to offer Rick showing Daryl the way to Merle. She was adamant on it, but at the same time mad at him for leaving. It was almost like she was testing him, seeing if he would actually leave his family to be the heroic cop from before. She wanted him to choose her and Carl over ‘the right thing to do’.

Rick cleared his throat, “It’ll be alright,” he nodded fiddling with the gun holster before turning back around.

Glenn backed the box truck closer, Daryl impatiently standing in the back. You walked toward him when the vehicle stopped. He squinted down at you against the beating sun, watching as you climbed into the truck.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Going with you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Four’s enough.”

You didn’t care if Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were also going. You had stayed in the city for a while, you knew your way around. Plus, you would be going for a different reason than the rest. They were going for Merle, you were going for Daryl.

“Stay here.” His voice was softer now. Truthfully, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were safer at the camp, with people you had grown comfortable with in such a short amount of time. “They’ll need somebody who knows how to hunt for somethin’ to eat. Fish is gonna get old fast.” You cracked a smile at his slight humor at the situation. Still, you didn’t want him to leave.

Daryl stepped closer, bringing you into his arms, his head resting on yours. The stench of sweat, dirt, and god knows what else didn’t bother either of you. He didn’t care that you didn’t smell like the sweet shampoo he loved, and you didn’t care that he didn’t smell like the body wash that you had bought him the last time you had gone to the store, or the cologne you loved.

“Keep an eye on everybody,” He kissed your forehead, mumbling against the skin, as he stayed close. “Don’t let anyone mess with ya.”

“When do I ever?” A smile threatened to make an appearance. But it wasn’t the time. He was worried about his brother.

Rick walked by, casting a glance back at the two of you, nodding. Inhaling deeply, you moved away from Daryl, jumping down from the truck. He sent you one more look before pulling the roll-up doors down. You stood there, listening to the box truck’s engine start. You continued to stand there even after the truck faded into the distance.

-

Dale watched as you fiddled with the rag he had given you to wipe the sweat off your brow. You kept fidgeting; ever since Daryl left.

He was quick to offer you to help him keep watch, but you were elsewhere ever since you climbed onto the roof of the R.V. You were trying, Dale could tell. But he saw the gears turning in your head, greased with the terrible thought of what could happen to your husband. The thought of Daryl always overpowered any other thought.

His greyed eyebrows raised as you shot up from your seat.

“Think i’m gonna go help with the laundry. To keep myself busy.” Dale didn’t say anything, only moving out of your way so you could climb down.

Making your way to the quarry, you focused on the voices in the distance and the sharp rocks under your feet. You walked past Ed, who sat comfortably in the back of the car, smoking while keeping an eye on Carol. He glanced up, taking a drag of his cigarette. Ignoring him, you carefully navigate your way down the rocks toward where Carol, Jacqui, Andrea, and Amy sat.

“Can somebody explain to me how the women wound up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?” Jacqui grumbled, watching Shane and Carl fail at catching frogs, their laughter echoing.

“The world ended. Didn’t you get the memo?” Amy wrung the water out of a shirt, flicking hair out of her face. Carol glanced back, looking at Ed. She saw you walking toward them. Sending you a small smile. “It’s just the way it is.” Her eyes fell back to her husband.

“Care for some help?” You squinted at the group through the sun beating down into your eyes. Jacqui motioned to a turned over bucket, “Please.” Giving a tightlipped smile, you sat down ,grabbing a scrub brush and a piece of clothing.

The way the women conversated put you at ease. It was familiar. People at the office that you worked at, were exactly like them.

“I do miss my Maytag.” Carol said, scrubbing clothes against the old washboard.

“I miss my Benz, my Sat Nav.” Andrea added.

“I miss my coffeemaker with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey.” Jacqui smiled.

Amy pouted, “My computer…and texting.”

“I miss my t.v. And wine. Especially after a long day.” You groaned, remembering the days after work; where you would come home, take your shoes off and get wine and a movie ready. Daryl would come home a little later and join you.

Your reminiscing was cut short by Andrea, “I miss my vibrator.”

Stopping your scrubbing, you looked up at her, a surprised chuckle leaving your lips.

“Ohhhhh.” “Oh my God!”

Carol glanced back at Ed, “Me too.”

You laughed harder, along with the others.

“What’s so funny?”

Just like that, the atmosphere was ruined. Ed walked down, instantly taking the joy out of the air.

“Just swapping war stories, Ed,” Andrea looked back at him, before looking over at Carol. “Yeah.”

Ed walked closer. From your spot beside Carol, you could feel Ed looming behind. Carol instinctively folded in on herself, head sinking into her shoulders.

“Problem, Ed?” Andrea glared at him.

“None that concerns you,” He took another puff of his cigarette, ���and you ought to focus on your work. This ain’t no comedy club.”

Andrea huffed, plopping the brush in the tin bucket.

“Just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.” You looked at him, face blank. He stared down at you. You waited for him to say something else. Surprisingly he only blew the smoke out, throwing the butt away. He stepped back, lighting another. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the laundry. Andrea stood, walking toward him.

“Ed, tell you what, you don’t like how your laundry is done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here,” She threw the soaking wet piece of clothing in her hands at him.

He threw it back. Andrea gasped. “Ain't my job, missy.”

Amy stood, wanting to de-escalate the situation. She touched Andrea’s arm, “Andrea, don’t.”

“What is your job, Ed? Sitting on your ass, smoking cigarettes?”

You glanced at Carol, who sat quietly, still working.

“Well, it sure as hell ain’t listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch. Tell you what,” He motioned for Carol, who was out of her seat in a second. You grabbed her arm before she could fully stand up. You could see the fear and timidness in her eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He continued to beckon her.

You stood, keeping a soft but comforting grip on her arm.

“I don’t think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed.” Andrea continued.

Carol glanced up from the ground for a split second, meeting your eyes. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble. She would be dragged back to camp by Ed if that meant nothing else would happen. She knew Ed, what he was capable of.

“And I say that’s none of your business.” Ed beckoned for Carol again. “Come on, now. You heard me.”

Carol moved away from your grip. Andrea turned to her, “Carol,”

“Andrea, please. It doesn’t matter.”

Ed glared at the interaction, “Hey, don’t think I won't knock you on your ass, just ‘cause you some college-educated cooze, alright?”

Andrea scoffed at the audacity of the male in front of her. You stepped forward, grabbing Carol by the shoulder. You weren’t about to let her go with him when he was clearly becoming hostile.

“Now you come on now or you gonna regret it later.”

You softly said her name, ignoring her husband’s glare, and stepped closer to her in a protective manner.

“So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed?” Jacqui piped up for the first time since Ed walked over. “Yeah, we’ve seen them.”

Ed chuckled, “Stay out of this,” his harsh gaze pierced through his wife. “Now come on! You know what, this is none of y’all’s business. You don’t want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done talkin’. Come on!”

You cringed at his words, moving in front of Carol as he walked closer. He ignored you, reaching around to grab at her arm with a harsh grip. The embarrassment was clear on her face. He pulled, knocking your balance slightly off as he yanked Carol from behind you. Her shoulder crashed into yours, feet moving in a jumble over your own.

“No. No, Carol. You don’t have-”

Carol muttered something under her breath, ignoring Andrea.

Ed swung around, spitting in Carol’s face. “You don’t tell me what! I tell you what!” His grip tightened, jagged nails biting into the soft skin of her upper arm. She whimpered quietly at the force. He raised his hand, striking her against the face. Gasping, you caught her as she fell back, grabbing her reddening cheek.

Everyone clamoured; Andrea hitting and pushing him away, you cursing him as Carol started crying. She fell further into you, as you held her protectively, hauling her away from him.

Ed was pulled back and thrown to the ground, before being dragged by the back of his shirt. Shane threw him further into to the ground, before throwing a punch, and another straight after.

“No!” Carol cried, trying to get away. Shane kept throwing punches, more skin breaking every time his fist hit Ed’s face. Carol covered her mouth, body swaying.

“Shane, stop!” “Enough! Enough!” “Just stop!”

Shane stopped, pointing a finger in Ed’s swollen and bloodied face. “You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me?” He grabbed Ed’s face, squishing it in the process. “Do you hear me?!”

Ed slurred, “Yes.”

Shane let go, pointing again. “I’ll beat you to death, Ed.” With one final punch, he stood, kicking the man on the ground and walking away.

“God!” Carol cried, using strength you had never seen from her before, to break from you, running over to her husband.

-

The tension in the camp was suffocating after that. There was a tiny victory after Andrea and Amy went fishing and brought back dinner, but it was short lived. Jim had been found digging graves, which disturbed a lot of you.

Night fell and everyone began eating the fish-fry.

You smiled at Sophia as she passed the pan of fish. She was well-mannered; all thanks to Carol. She was a shy girl, but became a seemingly different kid when she was around other kids. She found friends in a world that would probably take them away before you could blink. She, along with the other kids, didn’t understand what was out there, all of the bad. They held an innocence that would be demolished in front of your eyes.

“I gotta ask you, man. It’s been driving me crazy.” One of the men that you met in the city, Morales, spoke up, directing it at Dale.

“What?”

“That watch,” he pointed at the watch on Dale’s wrist.

Dale smiled, “What’s wrong with my watch?”

Morales continued, “I see you everyday, the same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass.”

“I’ve wondered this myself.” Jacqui smiled.

Dale threw his hands up playfully, “I’m missing the point.”

You looked between him and his watch, the fire casting a warm gleam over it, brightening the brown leather.

“Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. At least hit a speed bump for a good long while.” Jacqui shrugged her shoulders.

“But there’s you, everyday, winding that stupid watch.” Morales raised his eyebrows at the old man.

“Time- it’s important to keep track, isn’t it? The days, at least. Don’t you think, Andrea? Back me up here.”

They shared a knowing look, their faces glowing in the fire from where you sat. She sent him a seemingly warning glare, but his smile didn’t falter.

“I like- I like what, um, a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said “I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father’s before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, not that you may forget it for a moment now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.””

Huh,” Morales nodded at the answer, not really expecting it.

Everyone sat in silence around the fire, before Amy broke it, “You are so weird.”

Laughter echoed as you took a swig of beer. It wasn’t wine, but it wasn’t pure water so it would do.

“It’s not me. It’s Faulkner, William Faulkner.”

Amy rolled her eyes at Dale.

The older man chuckled, “Maybe my bad paraphrasing.”

Amy stood, walking away from the fire. Andrea stopped her, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pee.” The younger sister raised her brows, “Jeez, you try to be discreet around here.” She quickly walked off, toward the R.V.

Dale turned to you, “What about you? You fiddle with that on your wrist.” You looked down at the bulky thing around your wrist. “Was my dog’s collar.” Dale’s smile turned sad. While rushing out of your house, you had grabbed the collar from the leash you would walk her around the block with. Her name was embroidered; a gift from Daryl when he first surprised you with a puppy.

You tightened it into a bracelet, holding her memory close. Truthfully, you had forgotten about it being on your wrist. You didn’t notice how much you fidgeted with it. Dale did, when you were on watch with him.

You didn’t think about the dog for long.

The R.V door opened, and Amy stepped out. “We’re out of toilet paper?” She yelled. Before she could get an answer, a hand grabbed her forearm from behind the other side of the door. She stood in shock as a walker moved closer to her. She screamed, feeling the walker bite down.

Your head instantly snapped up, eyes growing wide at the sight. More walkers came from each direction, limping forward. Everyone screamed, jumping up. Parents grabbed their kids, others grabbed weapons. Gunshots echoed, making your ears ring. You were quick to instinctively reach for your gun. Unfortunately, that gun was still in Glenn’s bag with no bullets.

A hand on your shoulder had you swiveling around, pushing the walker that simply snarled at you. Pushing with all your strength, you didn’t wait for it to hit the ground before you were running.

Another walker stumbled toward you from behind, dirty nails digging into your skin. This walker was closer, a stench wafting into your nose before you could push it away. You tried, but from the angle in which the walker had grabbed you, you could only push its head away, fingers avoiding its snipping teeth.

You screamed, still hearing Shane unload his gun in the distance.

Andrea wailed, watching another walker bite a gash out of Amy’s shoulder, right where her neck meets it.

The grip tightened on you, making you hiss. Their nails were long and had the bite to prove it. One final hit had the walker staggering back, grip falling off. You turned, running toward the R.V, where Shane, Lori, Carol, Morales, and their families were. More gunfire rang out.

Making it to the vehicle, you turned back, seeing Daryl and the others coming out of the woods. He was the first out, head snapping in ebery direction. The other were soon to follow.

Daryl spotted you. He looked around, making sure no more walkers were around, before running toward you. Your bodies collided, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

He pulled back, “You hurt?”

“No, i don’t think- I don’t know.”

You were in shock, your jumbled words and wide eyes proving it. You couldn’t think. You rubbed where you were scratched.

In your time since the world ended, you had hidden in the top floor of a building. If you were ever met with danger, you always had a gun or knife handy.

Tonight, you were completely unprepared.

In the dark, you couldn't tell if the skin of your arm was broken. Clinging back to Daryl, you turned your head to where Andrea laid beside Amy. Blood pooled around them. Amy’s body went limp, sending Andrea to sobs. Closing your eyes tightly, you turned back to Daryl, pushing your face into his neck. He held you close, hiding the shake in his hands.

He had heard your scream.

That’s what had him running through the woods with only you in mind, leaving the other behind.

Part 3

•2021-2025 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!]

Tags from the last chapter who wanted part 2: @notmirnda @vomiting-blood @i93jjk @multifandomfan @gaudesstuff @cymbalta-slut

[spinecouture]

sex with daryl? 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ nsfw

his movements need work, sloppy and uncoordinated. he’d rut against you and bite back whines, chewing his lip till he bled. he’d stop every few seconds, cock pulsing, angry and aching for release. but he couldn’t, not yet.

if you’re on top, he is screwed. your bouncing hips drive him crazy, making his head spin. his teeth are clenched, breaths uneven and heavy, hands gripping your waist so tight it could bruise.

he’d get so close, just for you to stop moving. he’d let out a strangled growl of defiance, pathetically pushing his hips up into yours, fucking himself on your pretty hole.

“you’re gonna cum if you don’t stop,” you’d warn him, seeing how wrecked he was.

tears prick his eyes as he cums, unable to help but push you down harder as he stuffs you full. and it’s a lot—the man’s been deprived of ejaculation for years. streams of blissful tears trickle down his cheeks, panting and heaving as he comes down from his high.

“told ya,” you’d chuckle, kissing his forehead as he whimpered.

but you’re not satisfied now, are you? because he came so quick, you just need a little more. “c’mon, angel, one more,” you’d coo, rolling your hips despite his load dripping down onto his stomach. “jus’ one more, baby, you can do it.”

daryl’s gasping and twitching, head thrashing as he tries to stop you from moving again. his limbs feel like jelly, however, and don’t give him enough push to force you off. “christ, please, don’–“

he’s cut off by you lifting your hips, before slamming them back down. he lets out something that can only be described as a cry, head thrown back into the pillows.

“shhhh,” you purr, bouncing gently. “you can take it.”

daryl shakes his head, grasping at the sheets. he’s losing his mind, so overstimulated he could die.

“can’t… can’t…”

“you can,” you assure him.

that’s when he falls apart. god, this man is a whimperer. he whines and juts his hips up into you like he can’t help it. his dick is only half hard, twitching and pulsing from overstimulation. his hands cover his face, face red hot.

“please,” he’d beg, helpless. “please, baby, stop–“

god, he feels close all over again, feeling your hips and ass jiggling in his lap. his thighs would tremble; he’s never been like this before.

“gonna cum again?” your taunting tone drives him up the wall.

a strangled whine later, he’s cumming again, panting and wheezing. his hips sputter forward, and you keep bouncing. he’s clawing your back and growling into the crook of your neck, pathetic. “christ, fuck, i’m… i can’t…”

“you’re so good,” you whisper in his ear, stroking his hair as you fucked him through his orgasm. “fillin’ me so good, baby. you’re lovely.”

he wants to argue, to snap at you for letting this happen. he doesn’t know how else to respond to such praise. he’s a wreck, close to tears from pleasure. his cock has a thick layer of lust, dripping as you finally give him a moment to catch his breath.

“i feel like i got… hit by a bus,” daryl blurts after a long moment.

“is that good?”

“hell yeah.”