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holdmytesseract · 5 months ago

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Hello I was wondering if you could do a Daryl Dixon in the first few seasons when he got shot and an arrow to the side. Where the reader is taking care of him while he is recovering.

Approaches

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When Andrea mistakes Daryl for a walker and shots him, you are here to take care of the injured archer; causing the both of you to get closer...

Set in Season 2!

Warnings: Andrea? gunshot, weapons, TWD stuff, blood, injuries, fluff, idiots in love?

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this! I never wrote S2 Daryl before, so... Very exciting! I hope you like it, nonny and thanks for requesting!

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

You were in Dale's RV, peacefully napping on the little bench with your back pressed up against the window and your body squashed between the back rest and the small table. Your actual plan was to study the map Hershel had given your group, in order to search for Sophia - and not to doze off, but well... Your body had a different opinion on your priorities. And you'd have definitely slept for another while, if not a loud noise ripped you cruelly out of your sleep.

You shot up; heart hammering against your chest. A gunshot. It was a gunshot! "Shit," you cursed and scrambled to get up. On slightly wobbly feet - due to your rushed movements, you more or less stumbled down the few steps of the RV and immediately ran to the front. You saw Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn up ahead on the meadow in distance waving and shouting something like mad men.

"What happened?" You asked and looked to your right, where Dale stood on the little ladder which led to the RV's roof. Andrea kneeled on top; rifle in hands and smiling victoriously. "Apparently a walker made-," was all Dale could say, before he got interrupted by quick footsteps coming from the house and Hershel's voice.

"What on earth is going on out here?" He yelled; all the other's gathering around him. All eyes were directed on the four men, but when they started to crouch around the 'walker' and lift him up to his feet, everybody soon realised that the walker was definitely not a walker.

"Oh my god, is that...?" Andrea spoke almost in a panicked voice; quickly ushering Dale down the ladder, so that she could climb down as well.

You took a few steps forward; squeezing your eyes shut to identify the 'walker', but deep down, you already knew. No ten seconds later, your eyes widened; heart rate picking up again. "Daryl! Oh my god, that's Daryl!" You started to run; Andrea following you behind.

"I-Is he dead?" You asked Rick and Shane - who had each draped one arm of the archer over their shoulders and carrying him, in a quivering voice. Rick shook his head. "Nah, just unconscious," the leader answered; then turned his gaze to a shaken Andrea. "Bullet only grazed him."

Slight relief washed over you, but your worries nevertheless didn't cease. Daryl looked bad. All caked in dirt and mud; his top soaked in blood. You couldn't tell if it was his own or from walkers.

Chewing on your thumbnail, you watched how Shane and Rick dragged the archer inside the house, so that Hershel could take care of his wound. You hesitatingly followed them and sat down on the steps of the porch; soon getting lost in thoughts.

It wasn't like you and Daryl were a thing or something. Actually not at all. However, you had grown very fond of him the past days and weeks. Something intrigued you and seemed to draw you closer to Daryl. You liked him. A lot. Most of the group only saw his rough and edged exterior, but you also saw that he had also a different side. His selflessness. Braveness. Protectiveness. You knew Daryl was a good man.

Almost everyone of the group had noticed, of course, that you had cast an eye on the crossbow-wielding redneck. You weren't quite subtle in your words and gestures; how you acted around him. You, though, you were oblivious to the others observations.

"Hey, Y/N," a voice urged to your ears and caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Turning your head to the left, you saw how Lori placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?"

You gave her a soft smile. "Yeah, sure." She nodded and gestured towards the main door. "You should go to him," Lori said and gave you a wink as she passed you by. "He's upstairs." Your eyes followed the brown haired woman, before they travelled over to the door. Biting your lip, you stood up and made your way inside.

Just as you set foot in the hallway, you saw Hershel exiting a room to the left; some medical stuff in hands. The older man saw you approaching and gave you a nod. "H-How is he? Is it bad?" Hershel shook his head. "He'll live. A few days of rest and he should be a'right again." Now you were the one who nodded. "Thank you." He gave you an uptight smile as he passed you by. "Can I, uh, go to him?" "Of course." With those words, Hershel was out of your sight; left you standing alone in the hallway.

You stared at the doorhandle for a moment, took a deep breath and knocked. A gruff 'Yeah' coming from inside the room allowed you to step inside. So, you did.

Gently closing the door behind yourself, your eyes fell on Daryl, who was snugly wrapped up in a blanket on the bed; a bandage around his head. At the sound of your footsteps, he turned; now facing you.

"Hey," you softly greeted him; giving him a small smile. "Thought I'll come look after you..." You were still concerned about his well-being. After all, he was shot - even though the bullet just grazed. "How are you feeling?"

Daryl shook his shoulders with a grunt. "'M fine." You weren't neither convinced by the answer nor were you believing that he was telling the truth, but you decided to leave it for now. So, you just nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him; gently placing a hand on his arm. Your skin on his didn't fail to send a shiver down your spine. This bold, simple gesture was already enough to drive the butterflies within your stomach wild - and not just yours...

You were totally oblivious to Daryl's slight flinch as you suddenly touched his arm; eyelids fluttering for just a moment. It wasn't like the others from the group hadn't 'touched' him before... A clap from Rick on the back, Carol's hand on his shoulder. Simple gestures, which he usually wasn't fond of. Bad memories were connected with touch, so he learned to avoid it. But your touch... Your palm on his forearm... That was different.

"What happened?" You whispered. Daryl could see worry in your eyes. Honest concern. You didn't just ask out of politeness, no... You meant it.

Once more he shrugged his shoulders; trying to play it cool. "Horse threw me off, fell down a slope 'n well... Caused one of ma arrows to kinda impale me." Your eyes widened. "Hang on, wha'? You got impaled by your arrow?!" "Yeah, 's not a big deal." You felt how your heart sped up. "Not a big deal?! Daryl, you could've died!"

He shook his head. "Nah. I ain't jus' die like a pussy. 'S a boring death. 'Sides Hershel got me fixed again."

You blinked; little bit overwhelmed by the information and his words. You swallowed; worry taking over then once again.

"Are you in pain? Is there something I can do for you?"

And that was the moment Daryl's cool façade started to crumble down entirely. You were so sweet and kind to him - something he didn't deserve. And yet you willingly gave it to him. From that day on, Daryl stopped pushing you away. He let you stay with him while his wounds healed; let you entertain him with a book you read out loud or some of your funny childhood and teenager stories. You brought him food, made sure he stayed hydrated in the Georgia heat and cleaned his wounds and changed the bandages. You were no nurse, but you had at least a little experience.

"I don't hurt you, do I?" You asked while you carefully dabbed the wound on his temple, where Andrea's bullet had grazed him. "Nah, ya don't. 'S all good." "Good." You gave Daryl a small smile, before you concentrated on cleaning the wound again. Daryl's blue-grey eyes watched you intensely; saw the frown on your face and the tip of your tongue poking out between your closed lips. His heart fluttered. You looked cute - and he could've watched you for several hours like this, but unfortunately you were way to quickly finished and before he could blink, you had patched his wound again and with that your touch was gone.

"There you go. All finished." "Thank you," Daryl croaked out; his voice definitely more hoarse than usual. You nervously tucked a loose strand behind your ear, "Of course." before meeting his gaze; looking into his beautiful blue-grey orbs.

The tension between you and him was literally cuttable with a knife as you stared into each other's eyes; totally lost. Neither of you didn't even notice how you moved closer. Daryl propping himself up on his elbows, while you leaned down; on your way to meet him halfway.

But when the redneck's brain finally managed to catch up with the situation he was in and suddenly realised that he was inches away from kissing you, his mind panicked and immediately went to pull up the invisible walls he had built around himself through the years - and so Daryl turned his head away, before your lips could touch his; clearing his throat.

"I should... I should get some more sleep."

You immediately sat back on your haunches; the beautiful, intimate moment gone. Bursted in front of your eyes like a bubble. You cleared your throat as well; nodding. "Yeah, I, uh, I should go, too. 'S getting dark soon, so, uh, time for dinner, right?" You tried to stay cool and just play off what happened a few seconds ago, but you were not very good at it - and Daryl noticed. Nevertheless, he played along.

"Yeah, right."

You gave him a soft, uptight smile and got up. "I, uh, I'll come back later to bring you dinner, okay?" "Alrigh'." Another awkward smile crossed your lips, before you went to leave hit tent; zipping it shut behind yourself.

The moment you were gone, Daryl led himself fall back down on his sleeping bag with a frustrating groan; rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to - but he just got cold feet. His fear of letting someone getting too close to him in the way.

He groaned again. "Ya fuckin' coward..."

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star-wrote · 5 months ago

Text

Vibe

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Saviors Alexandria Era

Summary: Daryl Dixon went on a run to scavenge for supplies, but came back with vibrators instead.

Warnings: typical TWD violence, threats, guns, vibrators, smut, oral(fem!receiving), slightly comedic, idiots in love, fluffy

Word Count: 1450

18+

Daryl was sat against the car, smoking a cigarette. It had been almost three days of scavenging for supplies and food for Alexandria when he and Rick wandered upon an old warehouse.

The warehouse was surprisingly clear of walkers. They had scouted the front of the building and saw stacks of full boxes through the dark windows. It was like finding an oasis after two and a half days of finding nothing but empty cans. Deciding that luck was on their side, they crept in through the front door.

What they weren’t expecting to see on the other side of that warehouse door was a camp of men. Roughly 15 men shot up from where they were sleeping and brought their guns up to aim at Rick and Daryl.

“Think you can just creep in here while we’re sleeping? You trying to take what’s ours?” One of the men yelled as he stepped forward. The leader, Daryl assumed.

Rick raised his hands up by his head. “We didn’t know this place was occupied. We can leave.”

The man scoffed. “Why, so you can bring back more people to wipe us out? How do you think we have all of this stuff? It’s because we protect it. So we’re gonna kill you, take your stuff, and then burn your bodies.”

Daryl feels a man press a gun into his side. “Rick.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rick sighs, exasperated. “Go.”

Daryl twists the gun out of the man’s hands and knocks him out with it. He tosses the gun to Rick who starts going on a lecture about how the men should’ve just listened to them.

Gunfire from both Rick and the men causes Daryl to grab the biggest box that he could carry by himself, and run outside to where their car was haphazardly parked. He tossed the box into the back as Rick ran out of the building and jumped into the driver’s seat.

As Rick peeled out onto the road back to Alexandria, Daryl leaned over his seat to open the box.

“Hope we got somethin’ that was worth all of that.” Daryl said as he pulled the last flap of the box open.

Rick watched in the rearview mirror as Daryl’s face dropped. “What is it?”

Daryl picked up one of the pink toys and tossed it at Rick.

“S’a bunch of fuckin’ vibrators.”

When Daryl got home, Alexandria was thankfully quiet. He didn’t want to have to deal with people asking what they brought back from the run. Maybe he would sleep in tomorrow and let Rick deal with it in the morning.

However, it was you who was at the gate. You who he knows won’t stop asking until you get an answer.

After Rick parked the car and you closed the gate, you ran up to hug Daryl.

“I missed you so much, three days was too long.” You said as you kissed him.

He smiled, glad to feel some of the guilt for not finding anything on the run roll off his shoulders.

You watched Rick grab a lone box out of the back of the car. “Oh, what did you guys find?”

Daryl grunted and took the box from Rick. “What do I even do with these, man?”

Rick chuckled and opened the box. “I’m gonna take one for Michonne, I guess. Just give the rest to Olivia for her to take inventory like usual.” He grabbed one of the toys from the box.

Your eyes widened as you saw what the haul from their trip was. You waited until Rick walked away before whispering at Daryl excitedly. “You guys got vibrators for the town?”

“Was an accident. Ran into some guys in a warehouse. Took one of the boxes as they were shootin’ at us. ‘Course it was filled with damn vibrators.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpiness. “I think this is the best haul you’ve ever brought home, I don’t know why you’re so upset!” You grabbed one from the box and started walking with him to the pantry.

“Comes with batteries. We could take all of those and use ‘em.” Daryl said.

You frown. “Or we could bring pleasure to all of the women of Alexandria.”

Daryl stops walking and looks at you. “Thought I gave you enough pleasure. You were even sayin’ it was too much that night before I left.”

You blush as you think back to the night that Daryl overstimulated you before he left on his run. “Yeah you do. But not everyone has a Daryl Dixon. Plus we could try it together. Might be fun?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. We’re okay on batteries right now anyway.” He says as he continues walking to the pantry.

You grin to yourself as you clutch your new toy to your chest. “Yay! We don’t even have to refill the batteries. We can just use it until they die and then throw it away.”

“Oh my- Daryl.”

The walk to the house from the pantry had Daryl thinking about getting you home and getting you off. You had barely closed the door when he started stripping your clothes off.

You giggled as he kissed your neck. “I thought we’d at least sleep after your run before jumping in!”

“Nah, need to make you feel good.” He grunted and picked you up over his shoulder.

You squealed and held on tight to your vibrator as he started walking to your shared bedroom. The packaging was torn open in a hurry while you were still upside down on Daryl’s shoulder. You dropped the box as you yanked the toy out.

Daryl smacked your ass to signal that he was going to toss you onto the bed. You land on the fluffy blankets and pillows and laugh as Daryl finishes taking your clothes off. “You’re so eager, I thought you weren’t sure about bringing toys into the bedroom.”

He smirks down at you. You were still holding onto the bright pink vibrator with a look of excitement in your eyes. “You said ya wanted to try. So we’re trying.”

He grabs the toy from your hand and presses the button to turn it on. Your eyes light up as it immediately starts buzzing in your lover’s hand.

“How do ya want me to do this, baby?” He whispers as he trails the fluttering toy up your thigh.

You close your eyes and sigh into the feeling. “I don’t care, just need it somehow, Daryl.”

“Ya want me to eat ya out? Put this thing on yer clit?”

You nod your head at the thought. You also notice his accent getting thicker as he gets more aroused; a trait that you’ve come to admire about him.

“Okay, ‘ve got ya, honey.”

Daryl lays down on his stomach between your thighs and brings your legs up to rest on his shoulders. He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you gasp at the contact. Gently, he presses the toy onto your puffy clit. He looks up at you, assessing the situation. He smirks when he sees your head thrown back and your fingers clutching the blanket underneath you.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Would feel even better if you used your m-mouth.” You gasped out.

Daryl kissed your inner thigh. “Say please.”

You pouted at him. “Please, Dar?”

Daryl kissed just to the side of your hole, muttered something about you being a “princess” and dove in.

You moaned and tossed around in the bed. To an outside perspective, it would look like some type of weird exorcism. But it was just Daryl making you feel so good. Daryl and that “damn vibrator.”

His tongue continued to lap up the wetness that you were producing for him. Because it was always for him. He moaned into your soaked hole and tongue-fucked you into oblivion.

The continuous buzz of the vibrator kept lifting you up and up until you were finally at your peak. Daryl was mumbling praises that could barely reach your ears as you shook underneath him. Your thighs tightened around his head, but he didn’t stop until your body relaxed under his tongue and your moans turned into small whines.

Your breathing was labored and there was a ringing in your ears that sounded like the song of heaven as you lay there, recovering from the insanely intense orgasm that Daryl had just given you.

Daryl. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows and looked down at your man. He was licking the vibrator.

You both locked eyes as he pulled it away from his mouth. Smiling at each other, you said in unison;

“We’re keeping it.”

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etclouie · 2 months ago

Text

polaroid

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: around Ricks birthday, you had found a working polaroid camera, and decided to give him a different type of gift. (Rick Grimes x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: early Alexandria era

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: younger girlfriend + established relationship, nudes + description of taking nudes, giving nudes (in the form of polaroid pictures), suggestive but no smut, rick calls reader baby (once), pretty sure the words ‘happy birthday’ aren’t used in this at all, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 936

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: thinking of andy’s birthday so pinning this as september time

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 twd masterlist | main masterlist

you had gone out on a supply run with Rick, looking for tins of food and more medicine, as the community was running low on everything at the minute.

searching through an unchecked row of houses Daryl had mentioned from his previous run, clearing one of the houses of walkers before beginning to skim through the cabinets and drawers.

looking for medicine in an upstairs bathroom while Rick searched for food in the kitchen, entering the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom.

eyes landing on an old polaroid camera lying aimlessly on the bed, piquing your interest and surely making it’s way into your supplies bag - fully without Rick’s knowledge of course.

the camera had ideas flooding your mind, and the memory of Rick mentioning how his birthday was nearing- or how he thought so at least, with the season change and all.

one main idea stuck in your head, giggling to yourself at the first idea of a birthday gift for the man you love.

finding the polaroid instant film in the top drawer of the bedside table, and also putting that in your bag before finally making your way into the bathroom as originally intended.

opening every cabinet door in reach, and rifling through their contents. setting down every pill bottle and medical item on the counters as you continued to search, your bag set on the floor next to you.

a soft call of Rick’s voice shouting your name had you moving to the top of the stairs to answer him back, noticing an all too familiar smile plastered across his face.

“what?”

watching him shake his head before a low rumble sounded from his chest, setting his bag of canned food down before making his way upstairs towards you.

mind reeling as he stalked towards you, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you against him, his lips pressing to yours and giggles spilling from your lips.

“what’s gotten into you?”

you had questioned softly, pulling back from the kiss while his hands remained on your hips. thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt to soothe across your skin, before he was leaning in to kiss you again, nipping at your bottom lip.

“missed you that’s all, taking your time up here”

rolling your eyes playfully at him and untangling yourself from his arms, moving into the bathroom and gathering all the pill bottles into the bag on the floor. glancing over your shoulder to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

“let’s go then, mister impatient”

a week or so had passed since you found the polaroid camera, waiting until you had your shared bedroom to yourself and a day of no planned work to take the pictures for Ricks birthday gift.

making sure no one else was home and locking the bedroom door, stripping yourself of your sleep clothes before standing in front of the full length mirror in the room.

eyes raking down your figure and noting the fading marks Rick had left across your throat and inner thighs, humming appreciatively before taking a step back towards the bedside table.

pulling out the polaroid camera from the bottom drawer and standing in front of the mirror again, lifting the camera and taking a picture. making sure all of your body was in the shot, and the fading marks were visible too. waiting for the film to process before taking another picture, copying the action a couple times until you had a couple decent pictures.

setting all of the pictures down on the bed, and flicking your gaze over every one. eyes focusing on the one picture in particular you thought Rick would like most, lifting it and soothing your thumb across the film.

you’d managed to pull Rick away from the rest of the group, insisting that this gift had to be given alone. thoughts flooded his mind as you led him towards your room, shutting the door behind you both.

reaching into the bottom drawer where you kept the polaroid camera and pictures you took hidden, turning back towards Rick with a grin plastered across your face.

“remember that run we went on last week?”

you started softly, holding up a small envelope containing the pictures and the camera in the other hand. watching as his eyebrows knitted together before he nodded slowly, your que to continue on.

“found this camera then, and had the idea to use it to give you a special gift”

handing him the envelope as you spoke, his left pointer finger hooking under your chin to tilt your head towards you while holding the envelope in his other hand, carefully setting down the camera on the nightstand and soothing your hands across his chest.

watching eagerly as he opened the envelope and pulled out the pictures, alongside a small handwritten note. his eyes flicking over your words before landing on the various different nudes. a low mumbled ‘fuck’ falling from his lips, his eyes raking over your naked form in the film.

“they’re perfect, you’re perfect”

he groaned out, setting the pictures down next to the camera and turning to you. cradling your jaw in both of his hands and pulling you up into a bruising kiss, gasping under his touch before he pushed you down onto the bed. watching him crawl on top of you and holding your hands above your head.

hips slotted against yours and legs loosely hooked around his hips, breathing heavy and his voice laced with lust as he mumbled into your ear.

“gonna take my other gift now, yeah baby?”

requests are open here !

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 7 months ago

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden.

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay.

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly.

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice.

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break?

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.” You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.”

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back.

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #pregnant!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead

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cultofdixon · 11 months ago

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Little one had other plans

Rick Grimes • She/Her Pronouns • Timing is never perfect when it comes to babies coming into the world. Rick just wished the group wasn’t…homeless when his baby decided to make an entrance • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Anxiety / Unbearable pain

A/N: Really bare with me and TWD timeline

Requested by: Anon

“Rick?” Her voice brought the retired sheriff out of his slumber as he carefully sits up from their shared bed.

“Yes darling?” Rick smiles moving aside for Y/N to sit with him as she instantly locked their arms bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “Are you feeling alright? Missed yea this morning”

“Uhm. I know we just…hitched and we didn’t talk about certain things especially given it’s the apocalypse and Lori but…”

“Y/N. Please just say it”

“I’m pregnant”

Rick’s silence only brewed the fear and anxiety within Y/N as she was about to pull away when he shifted so that he could pull her entire person into his embrace.

“Are you upset?” Y/N frowns holding onto her husband as he started to rub soothing circles on her back feeling her relax. “Rick—-“

“We’re just…so in love with each other that we couldn’t contain it all.” Rick whispers feeling her tighten around him as he did the same. “So we made another person out of that love” he held her as she sobbed in his embrace.

“We’re happy about this?”

“More than happy darling. We’re safe here. I can’t wait for this chapter with you” Rick smiles bringing his lips to her temple keeping her close as the two wouldn’t separate for a while longer.

But the luxury of the prison never lasted…

When Rick reunited with Daryl on the road, after dealing with the claimers…the archer brought it up. Brought up the thought that Y/N could be dead and being met with Rick’s silence was his answer meaning he didn’t want to even think about it.

“We’ll find’em.” Daryl states watching Rick turn to him slowly with a low expression before looking away. “She’s a fighter. May be the size of a planet currently but you know she ain’t leavin’ this earth without fighting to get back to you”

“Did yea just call my wife a planet?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Just shut up and let’s follow the train tracks once Michonne and Carl got some rest”

We will find them

And they do. Thankfully not in the mess of Terminus and Rick was extra thankful after hearing a few things about the cannibals that quickly met their end in the chapel later on.

The Grimes boys will forever be thankful to Tyreese with saving Judith and for both him and Carol finding Y/N moments after the two had found each other. Rick handed his daughter to his son quickly but gentle for Carl to get a good hold of her before he ran over to his partner bringing her in his embrace.

“Thank god you’re alive” Y/N sobbed out as she held onto Rick the best she could given the space they didn’t have. Rick pulled away from the embrace to kiss her firmly on the lips before bringing his gaze to her belly and placing his hands on it. “That’s also a bonus…”

“What? The baby kicking?” Rick asks while his gaze still focused on her bump.

“Yeah…Baby hasn’t kicked since the prison fell. Guess it missed its daddy” She breathed out a laugh listening to his follow in suit. He pressed his forehead against hers still staying in this moment as no one dared to interrupt.

The cannibals

The hospital

Beth…

Tyreese…

So many things could’ve been avoided and now the remaining group found themselves struggling with the fact that this could be the end if they don’t find anything. By anything the essentials for survival. Daryl did his best to hunt what he could find but nothing was turning up. The creek within the forest didn’t carry enough water like they hoped when they first planned to check. But Rosita boiled what they could draw up and insisted it be given to Y/N which the peanut gallery didn’t protest.

“Rick we need to prepare for the worse cause scenario” Carol pulled him aside as the group continued its tiresome walk to nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“She could go into labor. She is that pregnant where it could just happen without any of us prepared. We need to at least somewhat be”

“Or what?”

Carol didn’t say another word and only gave her friend a stressful look littered with fear of losing Y/N to this pregnancy like they did with Lori’s. They wouldn’t know what to do if Y/N needed a c-section or if she lost a lot of blood. Anything could happen and it didn’t take words for Rick to know he could lose the love of his life.

________

Y/N laid tiredly on the makeshift bed in their shared cell as she hasn’t been able to keep anything down for a few weeks. Typical morning sickness but Hershel had his worry about dehydration, not like Carl hasn’t been hovering making sure his stepmom had water. Rick asked him to keep an eye on her and his baby sister when he tended the garden but he didn’t need to be asked to do such. The two grew close when Lori passed and if she would do anything for Carl, he’d do anything for her.

“If your dad is making you hover. You don’t have to” Y/N said almost exhausted as she sat up in the bed when Carl was once peaking from the curtain now fully entering the cell with another canteen.

“Dad didn’t tell me anything. I’m allowed to check on you if I want to”

“I should be checking on you. You don’t have to worry about me” She states patting the empty space beside her while moving the blankets to cover her legs. “I’m okay”

“I know…b-but I want to…I don’t want to miss anything”

Y/N gave him a confused look gently making Carl look at her as he tried to cover his face with his hat. But then Y/N took his hat off lifting his chin to find his tears.

“Carl…love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I…” Carl choked up a bit feeling Y/N carefully wipe away his tears whenever they spilled from his waterline. “I don’t want to lose you too. I didn’t see…a-anything before and I just—-“

“Carl. We couldn’t have predicted what happened to your mom to have happen and I’m always so deeply sorry you lost her.” Y/N gently held his face feeling him ease into her touch letting her wipe away his tears. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I will promise you. I’m going to be okay”

“But you can’t…you can’t promise something like that”

“I’m going to anyway. I’m going to take good care of myself and this baby, knowing damn well my boys are going to help me. I’m not going anywhere love…I’m going to be okay”

________

Something didn’t feel right.

Y/N had tried not to think much of the growing pain in her stomach as she thought it was the lack of food in her system or the mild dehydration she was reaching.

Then when the mysterious water appeared and the debate of drinking such was washed away in the little sense of the rain pouring down on them. Her distressed expression matched those who’ve lost since the fall of the prison hence no one second guessed the feelings. Until Carl took note of it.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a little uncomfortable. Keep her covered or she’ll get a cold” Y/N fixed the coat she was once wearing to cover Judith better as Carl took his hat off to cover her head.

“Are you really sure that’s all mo—-Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m—-“ She stopped herself reaching for Rick grabbing his bicep harshly to indicate how much pain she was in as he quickly addressed the matter bringing her close. “R-Rick I think. I think the baby is coming”

“Well that couldn’t have been poorly timed” Eugene commented only for Abraham to smack him upside the head. “You have any better idea where the pregnant woman should have her baby? In the middle of the road with the rain pouring down on us and unable to see the walkers when nightfall approaches”

“Someone shut his mouth” Rick snapped watching Glenn push Eugene out of the Grimes’ line of sight as Abraham and Rosita blocked his view.

“Nah we got somewhere. Saw a barn on my way back to y’all after searching for water” Daryl states before leading the way as Rick didn’t hesitate to pick up his partner bridal style following the archer along with the others following shortly behind.

Once they got in the barn, everything had to happen again. Going in all different directions. Maggie and Carol took care of getting Y/N situated, prepared while Carl took care of watching Judith while the others swarmed respectfully on the other side of the half wall to give Y/N some privacy while she stripped from the waist down.

“Tell me how you’re feeling. Especially if there’s major changes” Carol stated watching Y/N nod trying to take deep breaths feeling Rick gently brush the hair out of the way of her face watching her look at him through anxious tears.

“Your baby will come perfect okay, okay? Nothing wrong will happen” Maggie’s choice of words confused those who weren’t there when they lost Lori, and especially how they lost her. No one questioned. All the focus was making sure that baby comes out okay while protecting everybody.

It felt like a cue. When the walkers came a banging on the barn doors resulting in almost every muscle they’ve got keeping them closed, Y/N was already in the motions of pushing this baby out only for a smooth sailing to reach a jammed complication.

“H-Hurts. Hurts so much!” Y/N shouted as the growling tuned it out except for Maggie and Carol’s ears as they both were checking what is happening. The baby’s shoulder is stuck and in a perfect world they’d have the tools or the operating room to go to that nuclear option of a c-section. Something they didn’t want to do.

“Y/N you have to stop pushing”

“O-O…I…” Y/N sobbed listening to Carol’s words as she gripped onto the blanket she laid on not finding the words to ask for her husband but the anxiety growing in the situation made Maggie shout.

“Rick we need yea!” That caused a few head turns as the pounding shifted the weaker few against the door.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Rick instantly asks, taking Y/N’s hand into his feeling the bone crushing grip she was producing as he kept his ground a straight face for her.

“Baby is stuck”

“I have a plan but if it doesn’t go well, we could lose them both” Maggie frowns, remembering an old conversation back from the prison with her father about breached babies and if it ever happened to her then one would have to reach into her while another pushed down on her belly to help the baby progress.

“Take me through it. We’ve got this” Carol states turning to Y/N and her worried expression. “Scream. Scream it out. Everybody’s got our back and you will make it. You both will make it”

The growling grew louder along with the blood curdling screaming as Michonne brought Carl into her arms covering his ears while the two kept their ground against the door. He sobbed listening to his mom’s screaming and those from the beginning of the prison sanctuary were all feeling the old anxiety bubble up inside them.

But once it settled…the growling faded and the anxiety dissipated…the screaming stopped…

Rick pressed his lips to Y/N’s feeling the tears roll off his cheeks as he pulls away to look at their baby boy laying on her chest calming instantly to the soft touch his mother brought with the finger grazes.

“He’s perfect…”

“You did it, darling” Rick exhales a chuckle, kissing her forehead and bringing her close keeping his coat to cover their baby keeping him comfortable in her arms.

“We’re okay” Y/N felt the tears pour as she laughs the anxiety out bringing her gaze to her son when he brought himself to look at his brother. “We are okay, like I promised”

Carl felt the tears return in his eyes as Y/N tiredly reaches to wipe away his tears. Rick smiles at the gentle act admiring his little family as he made this declaration a long time ago…

But he’ll never let anything happen to his family.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction

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betyloca · 9 months ago

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twd characters with a silent s/o

daryl dixon

• He noticed at camp that you were very quiet or shy.

• When you sat down to eat around the fire with the camp, everyone was talking but you just watched without making a sound.

• until one day you were sitting next to him while he was telling you random things.

until I asked you why you never spoke

- Hey, why don't you talk, are you shy or something?

when I noticed that you took out a notebook and wrote in it

-* showing what it says* I am mute due to an accident that damaged my vocal cords but I am not deaf

• Since then he has been more attached to you, teaching you how to use weapons.

• since you are mute you have the advantages of being more agile without being heard

• teaches you how to use his crossbow

• he starts to get attached to you and always asks to go with you when you have to go get supplies

Rick grimmes

• He was an officer so he realized when he arrived at the camp that you weren't talking.

• By noticing that behavior more, I understood that you were mute.

• He would come to you if you needed help with something, which you always responded with a simple nod of the head.

• I started practicing sign language to communicate with you.

- If you need anything, let me know* communicating in signs*

- * while smiling * I am mute, not deaf, how do you think I can hear others when they talk to me * making signs *

-ohh

- *signing* well the intention is what counts

• well this way they have an advantage when they have to make an ambush

• he likes how well you get along with carl

• whenever they go to look for supplies he has you by the hand so you don't get lost

Gabriel stokes

• this man thought you were shy

• when he sat with you and talked to you you never spoke

• He thought you didn't like him until Carol told him you were mute.

• He started to get closer to you by asking if you didn't mind, you just answered no with your head.

• likes to spend time with you at church

• reads the Bible to you when you have nothing to do

- Are you sure you won't get bored?

- *Shaking his head*

- okay where was I?

• he likes to walk with you in Alexandria when it's night because he's so quiet

• gives you his bible when he goes to get supplies

• He worries when you leave but when you return he is very happy and hugs you.

Merle dixon

• at first he didn't realize how quiet you were and he didn't even care

• Until I started flirting with you I noticed that you never complained but you did blush.

• so I started doing it more often until I made some jokes

• one night when the others were sleeping you were outside your tents while he was talking

• until he told something funny that he saw that you were laughing but you didn't make a sound

- Hey sugar, you're mute, aren't you?

-*nodding*

- ohh I see that doesn't stop me from making you smile, don't you believe, sweetheart?

• He thinks it's an advantage that you're mute, so just like Daryln, he teaches you to be agile without being seen.

• teaches you how to use weapons while whispering double meanings in your ear

• he thinks it's better for you to sleep in his tent than in yours in case something happens and he can't hear you and why does he worry?

• fights with anyone who makes fun of your condition

• whenever they go by car to get supplies he has a hand on your thigh to calm you down

#twd headcanons #the walking dead #merle dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes x reader #father gabriel #gabriel stokes x reader #twd x reader #twd imagine

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bubuslutty · 1 month ago

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million dollar man

ooc negan smith x afab reader (organised crime au)

suggestive (mdni please or i'll eat you)

1.8k words

no apocalypse, no walkers, haven't watched TWD yet, all I know is from fanfics so OOC Negan <3

tags: sorry for any mistakes, i was too excited to write + share this. no warnings or tw needed + mention of alcohol consumption. also worth to mention that the only driving force into me writing this is my thirst and hunger for this fictional character. I dream every day of sucking him dry and making a seat out of his lap.

a small gift for my bae @reveluving <3

You came to Negan's empire to purchase weapons and materials for a mission. It was meant to be a quick trip with the leader of your small team, Rick. He was carrying a duffel bag filled to the brim with bills while you only carried a piece of paper - a list - in your hand.

Getting inside the million-dollar villa took multiple security checks and your phones being confiscated along with any weapons you had on your person. It took a long time to follow one of the henchmen through multiple corridors and ridiculously massive stairs, to some sort of office. It was empty, and the two of you had to sit and wait in silence. Rick, placed the duffel on the floor as he sat with his back straight, looking at the office, scanning the collection of books and random objects. The place was spotless, the floor and windows shining.

You on the other hand started tapping your fingertips on your naked thighs, staring at your shoes and the clean floors. You really wanted to get back to your place so you can continue planning the mission. These trips were not your favourites, you were only here because Rick found your presence useful. He said once that he trusts you, not like he trusts his other guys any less, but that he found your presence calming. You were really good at reading people's moods and feelings, you also had good social skills. You spoke multiple languages, which is really helpful in this line of work. Rick has struggled many times in communicating with random crime gangs because of their heavy accent, or just because the leader refused to speak English and decided to only speak through an interpreter.

You were also quick on your feet and pretty, that, Rick found, helps too.

That's why you were wearing a tiny black dress, neck and legs exposed to the clean air of the office. Over it, you had on a black leather jacket with a pair of black boots. It wasn't much but it was enough. You also never really resented Rick for using your appearance to his advantage in these sort of meetings and arms purchases. It was purely business and you understand the benefit of using human nature against your enemies.

The door opened behind you two, and none of you looked back but simply stood up to greet today's seller. Rick stuck his hand out when the seller made his way to the desk and you lifted your head to see who you had to deal with it when you froze.

You really didn't mean to freeze like that, eyes wide and feeling your body already heating up in embarrassment. It was stupid, the dumbest thing in the world. Out of all assholes in the world, it had to be this one.

Negan's lips slowly formed a smirk as he brought one hand to run through his greying beard, "Huh,"

Rick's hand was still in the air, Negan gave him one glance, raising a brow then down at his hand, turning around and making his way to his desk, leaving Rick hanging.

You glanced at Rick and saw how he glared at the man before he sat back down, wiping his hand on his jeans. You sat back down, pulling down at your dress to cover another centimetre of skin of your thighs.

Negan made a show of sitting down in his seat, unbuttoning his suit jacket and waving his finger and a henchman came over with a bottle of golden liquid and glass. You couldn't tell what it was, but knew it must be expensive.

"You drink?" Negan lifted his eyes while pouring himself a glass.

You were about to answer when he grinned, "I know you don't. I'm asking him."

Rick whipped his head to look at you, then back at Negan, "No."

"Hm, what's your name anyway? First time buying from us?" Negan asked after taking a sip.

"Ri-" "I actually don't care, show me the money and I'll see what that can get you." Negan said and you didn't know whether to burst out laughing or scream in embarrassment or horror. It was awfully hard to focus when the object of many inappropriate daydreams was right in front of you. Especially since this was the first time you're seeing him under natural sunlight rather than artificial neon colours.

Rick hates being disrespected, and you could tell he was fuming even when he was wearing a poker face. So you leaned down and grabbed the duffel, a henchman appeared next to you, you glanced at Negan and handed the man the bag. "Everything we need is here." You said, holding the piece of paper up. Negan nodded at the man, who took the piece of paper from your hands and left.

As soon as you sat down Negan got up, slowly walking around his desk and standing in front of you two, crossing his arms and leaning back against the desk, "How's work?" He asked, pinning you under his heavy gaze.

"I don't work there anymore." You quickly say, tucking your hands between your thighs, feeling a little uncomfortable, not necessarily because of Negan, but because Rick didn't know you two knew each other and would definitely have some questions when you leave.

"Hm, shame, you were phenomenal at it." He hums, shamelessly dragging his eyes down your body, stopping at where you tucked your hands between your naked thighs.

Rick looks bewildered and a bit disgusted as he looks at you and Negan, "You knew each other." He stated. Not questioned, stated, because it was without a doubt 100% true.

"He was a regular at my old job." You say noting the way Negan's big veiny hands hold the edge of the desk a little tighter and his eyes get that look he gets when he's tipsy and feels good, or in this case, horny.

"Wrong, baby. I was your regular."

What the fuck.

An onslaught of memories come rushing back from your time working at the strip club, it was just meant to be a temporary job, to hide in plain sight, but ended up lasting longer than you bargained for when Negan - you didn't know he was Negan back then, he never gave you his name - randomly came in and captured your attention and gave you a lot of money.

The phantom memories of his rough yet gentle hands on your skin made you shiver. You still remember how he smelled like, you remember the feel of his hair between your fingers and remember the rumble of his voice against your back and his warm breath on your neck. You also remember the coolness of his silver rings on your flesh, and the weight of his arms around your shoulders, but also how ridiculously tall and big he was, everywhere. Well, probably, you never saw him naked, it was a boundary that you never ever crossed. It was also the club's rules anyway. You were a dancer, not a sex worker. Maybe in another universe you would've let him fuck you in his pitch black £100k Mercedes with your legs on his shoulders.

"I need a drink." Your mouth says before you can even register it, and you realise your hand is around your neck, thirsty. Shit.

You snatch your hand away from your neck, Rick will definitely have a lot to say when you leave, you were being so unprofessional. Well, as much as a criminal about to purchase materials to kidnap the daughter of an oil tycoon for £50 million.

Negan chuckles and another one of his henchmen appears next to you out of thin air, seriously how do they move without making any noises-

You were about to give up keeping composure and scream when it wasn't one of his random henchmen but his fucking driver- What was his name again? Dylan? Daniel?

"Thank you, Daryl."

Oh yeah.

And Daryl was the one who accompanied every time Negan had time to come to the club, he never really spoke, just sat down and watched. It was unnerving at times, how you would be perched on Negan's lap like a pretty bird, thumbing at his tie while his hands are running up and down your legs, snapping the band of your teeny tiny shorts, making you squeal mid-sentence, just to chuckle and place a warm kiss to your neck or shoulder, his stumble pricking your skin in a way that made you shiver.

And in his hands was a fucking Five Guys milkshakes, the sticker on it listing your usual order. The one you mindlessly mentioned ONCE to Negan while he tried to convince you that Fast Food was shit and your body deserved to eat healthy, in the middle of a lap dance you were giving him.

You don't even know how the fuck he managed to do that because she's sure as shit there was no Five Guys on their way to his place.

"Did I get it right?" Negan smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your breath came out shakily as you took the milkshake from Daryl, not meeting his eyes and grabbing the straw with your other hand, lips engulfing the paper straw and sucking. Yeah, fuck him.

Fuck him and fuck his money. Fuck his charming smile, big hands, and perfect memory and fuck his eyes and his mouth and his tongue and his stupid stupid stupid face!

You didn't say anything as you practically tried to inhale the milkshake, not meeting poor Rick's eyes. Negan clapped once and laughed, throwing his head back, amused and highly entertained.

In that moment one of his henchmen came in and said, "The order has been paid and packed."

Rick slapped in his thighs in dad fashion and stood up, ready to leave when Negan said, "Where do you think you're going?"

Rick frowned, "You got your money and we got what we came in for."

A mean grin spread across Negan's face, "No, no, buddy. We're not done yet."

"What else do you want?"

Negan ran his tongue on the top row of his teeth, "I'm only selling if you agree to come back and let me know how your little mission went." He glanced at you then back at Rick, "I want to see how good you are at your job, I might use your services in the future."

"Okay?.." Rick shrugged.

"Only if she's the one who comes back, alone, and in one piece, we got a deal?"

You eyes widen at his words and look at Rick, who's already looking at you. He looks pained and very annoyed, so you put the milkshake down on the coffee table and one of his hands, squeezing once, "It's okay, I can do it."

"Are you sure?" He genuinely looks worried and you nod, "He's not a monster."

Rick sighs and meets Negan's eyes, "Fine."

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darlingshane · 1 month ago

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I’d love to hear your thoughts on why Shane is the best character in TWD 😊

Cause he's my baby and he's hot and I love him and that's good enough of a reason 😂

But if you want something more logical, perhaps for a lot of reasons people tend to overlook… First, something that always bugs me is how little acknowledge there is of him actually stepping into the role of a leader for months before Rick showed up. As far as I know, no one in that group stepped in like he did. For the few interactions we saw, everyone would come to him for answers, and while he wasn’t always very diplomatic, he had good survival instincts and kept the group safe for months. Perhaps staying at the quarry wouldn’t have worked in the long run, but it was a plan nonetheless.

He was right most of the time. He figured out pretty quickly how things were after the infection, and adapted a new mindset. He had to make tough decisions nobody was ready for yet, and maybe he pushed too hard instead of giving people time to get into that same headspace. And we see in later seasons that almost everyone thinks in a similar way Shane did, they just have different approaches.

and it keeps going under the cut...

I recently saw a timeline in a subreddit or somewhere else that said the events from season 1 and 2 happened in the span of 2 or 3 weeks and that's crazy to me. So they were seemingly doing good, and they found Rick, everyone automatically herd to him, and everything until that point didn’t really matter anymore. That really pisses me off that he was just killed a few weeks later because they couldn’t sit down and talk things over. All and that, and despite him being driven for his misplaced love for Lori, he was still loyal to Rick in his own way. Did he question Rick’s leadership? Yes, countless times. Did he also follow his lead every single time? Also yes.

Which leads me to my next point. He also kept Rick safe. In the hospital flashback, he went in and saw what was happening and amidst all the chaos he still tried to get him out. When he couldn't, he did the only thing he could, he locked the door and barricade it. Did he know that would keep him safe? Probably no. He had absolutely no idea, but he was driven by getting them all out, and when he couldn’t get him out, he did the best he could to get Lori and Carl out of town. If he hadn't lied about Rick, Lori wouldn’t have agreed to leave him behind. Again, tough situations led to hard decisions.

And one of the hardest decisions he made was killing Otis to save Carl. He didn’t murder him in cold blood, he was with him until the end, killing him wasn’t something that crossed his mind until the very last second when he had no choice. If he hadn’t, Carl wouldn’t have gotten the care he needed. BUT people tend to paint him as a murderer for shooting him in the leg. It wasn’t right, but it was the only way out at that moment. I recently revisited one of my fics and wrote that Shane sacrificed his soul to saved Carl that day and I still agree with that. I don’t think he purposely hurt someone before unless he was defending himself. And from that moment on, you could see it changed him and didn’t know how to deal with that, which led him to his own demise.

Was he an asshole sometimes? Yes. Did he do or say things in a way I didn’t agree with? Yes. Did I ever want to slap him? Many times. But there was something about him, compared to other antagonists later on the show, that made him more realistic to me. He wasn’t driven by wanting to be right all the time or even being the leader. His misguided love for Carl and Lori, was at its core the things that he cared the most about and that he wanted to protect at all costs. And while I cared for neither, I think it was beautiful of him.

I can never watch his last moments. For me, he got the right idea at the beginning of season 2 when started considering leaving the group on his own. I wish he had done that, even if that meant leaving the show.

I’m probably forgetting something here cause I haven’t rewatched in years, but I think that’s it. Like I’ve said, I didn’t pay much attention to him the first time around, I did agree with him most of the time, it was his manners that left a lot to be desired. It wasn’t until my love for Frank got me to go back and watch some of his previous performances that I got to see Shane in a new light.

In conclusion, he’s still the best character to me, and everyone should love him like I do. Or not. More Shane for me if you don’t.

#sorry i didn't mean to write this much #shane walsh #twd #jon bernthal #i'm not here to fight anyone #so don't even bother telling me why i'm wrong #cause i'll delete your comment

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shan-yee · 2 months ago

Text

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Daryl Dixon x younger!fem!reader ๏𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 = 950 ๏𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 = death, gun, reader lost her sibling and her parents, reader lost her sanity, age gap, Daryl saw the reader grow up. ๏𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 = Sometimes you have to do things that you don’t want to for the sake of your loved ones. ๏𝙰/𝙽 = I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS TO DO, but i rewatched TWD and damn Daryl… ๏𝙰/𝙽 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

Save me from the nothing i’ve become

Daryl had never believed in love, that is, if this « love » concerned him directly. He had always been happy for his people when they found the boot that fit them. But the idea that he could one day find someone who would accept him for who he was despite his damn character and his many emotional wounds, still open, was inconceivable to him.

And if one day someone had told him that he would indeed find love in a young woman whom he had watched grow up and protected for a good part of his life, he would have laughed out loud. Even more so if this said person had told him that he would also be the one to take the young woman’s life.

He didn't understand how everything could have taken such a turn, was it too much to ask to have a happy and simple life, in a house with blue walls and a garden, with his family.

Accepting the fact that he loved someone much younger than him took courage but he did it. And when he was finally living a somewhat normal life in this apocalyptic world, he now had to take the life of the woman he loved to protect his found family.

When Rick told him about it, he refused, he even got angry and shoved his friend before storming off. Then he thought, really thought, about what Rick had said to him.

Looking at [Y/N], sitting towards the many graves that the inhabitants had dug, with a blank look and the skin of her lips bleeding from the many open wounds they had, he realized that maybe, maybe it was the best solution.

Daryl understood that after losing the only living member of her family the young woman might be devastated and need time. But there was something else behind this sadness, a feeling that Daryl had only seen in his father. Such destructive hatred that he came to shiver every time his gaze met that of his beloved.

She had never been the type to always be full of energy or cheerful, how could you be when death lurks near your house every day, but this look had nothing to do with her usual detached and grumpy morning look.

So finally, he accepted. It was out of the question that anyone other than him would do it. He had gripped the grip of his gun with a trembling hand and that same evening he had found the young woman in the garden, where she spent most of her time, looking at the flowers that Carol was growing with disinterest.

When he got close enough to clearly see the outline of her body, he stopped abruptly, like a stake. And the [H/C] haired woman seemed to know he was there, why he was there.

He saw her turn her head slightly and glance at his weapon before turning it around and returning her attention to the many flowers.

—I’m tired. She whispered, her voice raspy, as if she hadn't slept for several days.

—I know. He answered her, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt like he had never blinked so much in his entire life.

—I’m sorry.

—I know. he repeated.

The young woman's shoulders sagged before she slowly stood up, Daryl's gaze following her every movement with an eagle eye. He knew she wouldn't try to run away and deep down he hoped she would, that she would hit him before running away at full speed. But she wouldn't do it, even if he asked her.

She approached slowly and Daryl was able to admire her one last time, she didn't smile at him, she hadn't done so for a while, but he saw a certain tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness that she always reserved for him and their friends.

Decided, the man took her in his arms, her head against his chest and she let him do without saying anything, her eyes closing.

—You’re not going to kiss me one last time ? She asked him with a touch of humor in her voice.

But he didn't answer her. She knew that her question was selfish, she was going to rest forever but he would have to live with that, live with the act he was going to commit and the distant memory of a woman he had loved but could not save.

—Will it hurt ? Her voice resonated like a sweet melody in the older 's ear.

—I don’t know.

—That’s the only thing you didn’t know tonight. The young woman laughed without any real amusement.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he didn’t know what he was doing right now, that his action was surely going to be the biggest mistake of his life, but he didn’t. He decided to keep his feelings to himself, tonight was not about him but about her and for his peace of mind he was ready to bury everything.

She finally felt the soft coldness of the muzzle against her temple before taking a deep breath, she felt ready, ready to finally find her family in the afterlife and stop this infinite race against death.

—I love you Daryl, i really do.

The corners of his mouth twitched and he held her a little closer to his chest as if to reassure himself.

—I love you. He murmured in the corner of her ear, leaving aside his usual disinterested tone before pressing the trigger.

Daryl never spoke of that night again, refusing even to pronounce the first name of his former lover and no one ever found the young woman's body.

#i lost my blog #i’m a shit #x reader #x oc smut #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #dead city #rick grimes #angst x reader

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ashtheketchum · 8 months ago

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Hey, no pressure but when can we expect the next chapter of A New Family? I really love the concept of Daryl x Single Mom Reader!

A/N: As stupid as it sounds, questions and messages like these always make me happy. I never expected so many people to like this story! I always try to publish one chapter per week by the way ;D (Picture from Pinterest!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Taglist: @lowkeyhottho

Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Typical TWD Content

Masterlist!

____________________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

After the walkers were taken care of, we decided to go to the CDC. At first Shane was against it, as were some others, but Jim then convinced them. Not because he spoke well to them, but because he was bitten. When we found this out, we headed to the CDC. However, not everyone wanted to go there. Morales and his family wanted to go their own way and we accepted it. Rick gave Moales another gun and some ammunition while the others separated from his family.

(D/N) and I kept our distance, we didn't have any real contact with Morales and his family, so we didn't say goodbye. "Okay, we're leaving!" And with those words we set off to the CDC.

Rick, Carol, Lori, Sophia and Carl rode together, Dale, Jim, Tdog, Glenn, Andrea and Jacqui rode in the RV. I actually wanted (D/N) to go with one of them, but there was no more space. We sat with Daryl in his car. It had a huge loading area on which he had placed his brother's motorcycle. We had put our bags next to it because they would have taken up too much space at the front. While Daryl drove, I sat between him and (D/N), who was sleeping. She rested her head on my arm and I stroked her hand gently.

There was silence between Daryl and me. I didn't know what it was like between us now. He insulted me, then apparently wanted to spend time with (D/N). Then he snapped at me and then saved my and (D/N)'s life. It was confusing. I briefly thought about how (D/N) sees Daryl and I had to smile slightly. I sighed briefly in amusement, which Daryl probably noticed. ,, Wha´? Why´r ya laughing?" He asked, not annoyed, but more curious. "I didn't laugh…" I then said quietly and then turned my head away.

Daryl gave a brief snort of amusement. "F´course not…" Strangely, I couldn't hear any annoyed or offended tone in his voice. Maybe he was a little calmer now and I could tell him. It wouldn't really change anything anyway. “(D/N)… said that she sees you as a new father…” I then murmured quietly. A sad smile crept onto my lips and I looked down at her. She was breathing very calmly and had now laid her head on my lap. Daryl remained silent, although I could feel him tense briefly. "Wha´? Why tha´?" If I only knew that, Dixon.

Shrugging my shoulders, I looked out the window again. The streets were quiet and we didn't see a single walker. You might think that there wouldn't be any more, but this picture is deceptive. "I don't know…" I then sighed quietly.

Before Daryl could ask anything else, we suddenly saw the RV and Rick's car stop. Daryl stopped too and Rick motioned for us to come out. Just as I was about to unbuckle myself, Daryl moved his hand in front of my face. "Stay here, I'll go…" He just murmured quietly and he walked out. I stayed quiet for a moment, actually I didn't even have to listen to him, but if Daryl gave me the order not to do anything (which had never happened before), then there was probably a reason for it. So I stayed seated and watched the other group members talk.

Lori and Andrea looked at me briefly before tilting their heads towards me and speaking. For a while, I felt very uncomfortable, what were they talking about me? Did you want to get rid of us? Daryl spoke briefly before moving back to us. He opened his door and slammed it again. “Everything okay…?” Daryl remained silent for a moment. "Yeh… Jim wan´s ´ta stay here and be dropped off… we should say bye…" Daryl then said.

His answer chastised me a bit. Jim had lasted a really long time, but I expected him to give up now. He probably suffered terribly. "What did Lori and Andrea say?" This question slipped out of my mind. I didn't really want to ask, but somehow I had a right to know if it was about me. "They asked if ya should also say bye ta´ Jim… Andrea sai´ tha´ ya and (D/N) should do tha´…" Daryl explained briefly. "I said that ya should decide for yarself."

I was grateful and pissed. Why did Andrea take the right to decide over me and my daughter. However, I really wanted to say goodbye, out of respect. "It's okay… but thanks, Daryl…" I murmured quietly. I gently lifted (D/N)'s head to get out. I didn't want her to have to say goodbye, she wasn't ready for that. Daryl got out from his side so I could climb after him.

Rick and Shane sat Jim by a tree and we said goodbye. It took a lot of people away, Jacqui even gave him a kiss before she walked away. I then knelt down next to Jim and I nodded at him gratefully. "I hope you won't be in pain anymore…" "I won't… and take good care of your daughter…" He coughed quietly. I smiled lovingly at him before standing up and distancing myself again. After everyone said goodbye, we continued driving until we hit a traffic jam. (D/N) was awake again by now and I explained the situation to her with Jim before we all got out and listened to Rick.

(D/N) was a little sad, but she didn't cry because of the news with Jim. I didn't know if she was angry that she couldn't say goodbye or disappointed. But it didn't feel right for me to let her do something like that.

Since there were a lot of cars here, we had to somehow find resources to help us. Food, medicine, clothes, water and more. Just anything you could find. So we split up a bit and started looking. (D/N) and I went with Tdog. How the others divided up was different. "Maybe we can find new clothes or even medicine." (D/N) said, looking around too. "Let's hope so, little one." Tdog agreed with her. Tdog and I searched in the cars while (D/N) stayed outside and instead looked under them or looked around.

I found some clothes and a bottle of water. Smiling, I got out of the car again and I showed this to (D/N). She smiled brightly and reached for the fabric I had pulled out. It was a t-shirt, her size and she seemed to like it. "Can I keep this?" I acknowledged her question with a nod. “Walker!” Tdog suddenly said. Immediately we saw the huge herd coming towards us from the distance and we ran between the cars to the others.

“Mom!” (D/N) suddenly shouted. I immediately turned around and I saw (D/N) lying on the ground, blood flowing out of her leg. She had cut off a part of the rust. I immediately ran to her and I picked her up. My clothes soaked up her blood before it continued to drip to the floor. Breathing heavily, I kept running before Lori grabbed me and told me to hide under a car.

“Come on, get under the car, honey!” I said to (D/N), who slowly went under the car. I climbed after her and looked at her wound under the car. It was a deep cut, but it wasn't big. I looked deep into her eyes before tearing off some fabric from my top and wrapping it around the wound. In the background I could already hear the walkers running past us and (D/N) pressed her hands to her mouth to keep quiet. We were now trapped under the cars and (D/N) was bleeding non-stop.

Next Chapter ->

#twd daryl dixon #daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 11 months ago

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Series Masterlist

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Chapter 10

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA. Please venture forth with caution. Other warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; panic attacks; allusions to previous SA

You rushed into your cell, getting into a physical altercation with the sheet over the door when you became tangled in your haste. Tossing your clothes into the corner, you scrambled up to your top bunk and sat against the wall with your knees pulled to your chest.

Carol stood by the small table, simply blinking. “I thought you were gonna shower.”

You were too shaken to produce a logical response. “I, um, changed my mind. I’ll…I’ll do it in the morning.” Had you looked at your roommate, you would have seen the clear skepticism in her expression.

“Are you okay?” She queried.

“Um, yeah. Yeah.” You answered with zero confidence. You were honestly the furthest thing from okay. Daryl had just said your name while pleasuring himself. But why? He had rejected your attempts to do what you were purchased for, assuring you that he didn’t see you like that. You had never lost that feeling of dreaded expectation, convinced that he was biding his time. Did this mean you were right? Was he waiting for you to be alone and vulnerable?

A rapping of knuckles against the bars on the other side of the sheet that provided the thinnest layer of security for you startled you from your thoughts. You could no more than watch as Carol approached the doorway.

“Daryl. Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you. Why are you wet?”

Your breaths came faster, your heart pounding in your ears. No, Carol was safe. Carol had promised.

“Grabbed a shower. This yers?”

Your eyes were the size of saucers when Carol took the towel and looked back at you, eyeing you suspiciously for the briefest of moments. Then smiling Carol was back, accepting the colorful towel. You realized he probably thought it was hers because of her penchant for flowers.

“Yes, I must’ve dropped it when I was gonna take a shower earlier, but remembered that I needed to…do something…else.”

Ouch. That was horrible. And obviously hard to believe since Daryl was looking at her with that arched eyebrow.

“Y’alrigh’?”

“I’m fine, Daryl. Just tired.” Carol folded the towel neatly and let it drape over her arm.

“What’d ya need ta talk ‘bout?”

“You know, it can wait. I need to get to bed and you need to get to…well, probably not sleeping because you’re you.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed, clearly not upset, and started away from the doorway.

“Night, Daryl.”

“Mhm, night.”

Carol smiled until the sheet fell closed and then promptly chucked the towel at your head. “Changed your mind?!” She whisper-yelled.

“I didn’t know! I…I didn’t hear the water at first!” You retorted at the same level. You had already started to cry, confused and embarrassed and on top of it all, scared. You couldn’t tell anyone what you had seen. Something was keeping Daryl from acting on his desires, a fact for which you weren’t sure you were relieved or disappointed.

She had no idea why you were so upset when she climbed up into the bunk with you and pulled you into her side. “It’s okay.” She smoothed her hand over your hair and let you sniffle and quietly sob. “Did you see anything?”

Fuck. She just had to ask. You didn’t want to lie to her; never wanted to lie to her. Maybe just an omission would do? “I saw…scars.” The woman holding you flinched. She knew about them. Of course she did. They were close friends. “They look like mine.” You added softly.

“Y/N, I can’t tell you about those. It’s not my story to tell. I can tell you that you shouldn’t mention them.” You sat back, watching her with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s a touchy subject for him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

You nodded, feeling worse than you had initially, but at least it was over now. Carol patted your cheek and climbed down so you could slide under your blanket and get some rest.

Neither of you were aware of the stealthy hunter that had been listening just outside the cell.

Daryl had no idea how he was going to handle you that day. You had seen him in the shower. Claimed to only have seen his scars, which was bad enough, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what else you saw but was left to wonder what you may have heard.

His anxiety was eating him alive at that point. Maybe he could just say no for the day. Then Carol would be asking why. Maybe he should just tell her? No! If he could see the little devil on his shoulder, he’d punch the bastard. He could say he was sick. No, that wouldn’t be smart. Not after the flu fiasco. He’d just put everyone on edge. Maybe he could—

“Hi.”

Fuck. He hadn’t heard you approaching. This whole situation really had him thrown off. “Yer early.” He commented gruffly, hoping you’d go away and give him just a little bit longer to figure out something. He didn’t turn around, he couldn’t look at you. Not yet.

“I’m…uh…I’m sorry.” You said in such a tiny voice that even he felt like shit. “I was, um, helping Carol with breakfast and, um, well, I didn’t have anything else to do, so I thought that m-maybe I could just go work on what you showed me yesterday until you were ready.” He could hear you moving around but then you stilled. “You, uh, you left this with me yesterday.” He knew he’d left the knife. He had wanted you to have it, something to make you feel safe. But he couldn’t just say that, could he?

God, he was in over his head. Why the fuck didn’t Carol just let him stay away from you?

He glanced over his shoulder to your petite hand, carefully holding the blade with the hilt toward him. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t have a chance to ask.

“I didn’t, um, well…I wasn’t sure if you’d have me, uh, use it again today. So… I- I cleaned it for you.”

Why did that small gesture make his chest ache? Idiot, she’s bein’ nice. Girl still thinks ya bought her fer ya ta fuck n’ lock away. Daryl cleared his throat. “Nah, s’yers. Don’ need it no more. Got others.” Hopefully you took that as him being anything but nice.

“Wow, th-thank you, Sir.” He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, counting down in his head. “I mean, I mean Daryl! I’m sorry.” You squeaked before he could even get to seven. Jesus, you sounded so afraid of him.

He grunted, crossing his arms. Yep, that’s gon’ help her not be scared. “Le’s go, then.” He walked away toward the fences, not hearing your quick footfalls for a few moments. You tended to stay behind him, which he was grateful for and at the fences, you would be in front of him and clearing out walkers. That was also helpful. He was too concerned with safety to focus on anything else.

When he stopped, he nearly flinched out of his skin when you actually came to stand beside him. Peripherally, he could see your big doe eyes shining up at him. “Same as yesterday?” You asked quietly.

“Mhm.” When you walked ahead, he exhaled. Jesus, he needed a cigarette. He kept his eyes on you while pulling the pack from his vest pocket. From the feel of it, he’d need to make a run soon if he wanted more. There was probably a list of supplies that others needed, so he could take care of that while he was at it.

He flicked the lighter to life and inhaled while the end of the smoke ignited, the first dregs of nicotine soothing his frazzled nerves. Christ, he’d never experienced this kind of inner turmoil over a woman before. Any sexual encounters he’d had before were no strings attached and usually only happened as a distraction while Merle was off getting high or getting fucked himself.

“Again.” He ordered with smoke billowing from his mouth, blowing the remainder out once you moved to the next walker. You were off that day, your movements languid and uncoordinated when compared to the day before. The reason was obvious but you weren’t aware that he knew. Still, you pressed on each time he urged. You were pertinacious, he’d give you that.

Until you came face to face with a corpse that appeared to be recently turned. Daryl straightened, on alert while you drove the blade home. He figured you’d have difficulty retracting the weapon from a skull that wasn’t soft with decomposition.

“It’s stuck.” You turned to him for instruction, taking your eyes off the undead trying to get at you. A second was all it took for rotting fingers to find purchase in your tresses, yanking you against the fence.

“Shit!” His cigarette fell, forgotten, his knife in hand. You were screaming, teeth clicking in your ear as another walker locked a fist in your hair. You released the knife in flight response, reaching behind your head for only a moment before Daryl was grabbing both of your wrists to pull them away from the jaws that would have easily taken a finger or two. He sliced through the fingers holding you and pulled you away from danger.

Though you had stopped screaming, your sobs continued. The archer held you against him with one arm and pulled your knife free with his other hand, allowing the dead bastard to fall. He let the weapon clatter to the ground. He could come back for it later. “Y’alrigh’? Ya bit?”

Your hands were fisted tightly in his vest, your knuckles white. There were no visible marks, but it would be a good idea to let Hershel look you over anyway.

“C’mon. I gotcha.” He never made you let go even after he scooped you up. Carol was running toward him and met him halfway to the prison.

“Daryl, what happened?!” She was petting your hair and whispering softly while keeping up with the archer’s pace.

“Couple walkers grabbed her. Don’ think she’s bit but doc should look at her anyway.” He kept his blue eyes on the door, avoiding the bundle in his arms.

“Yeah, good idea.” Carol continued to try and calm you. “You’re okay. Daryl’s got you and I’m right here. You’re okay. Try to catch your breath.” When you didn’t, his friend looked to him. “She’s gonna hyperventilate if we don’t calm her down.”

Fuck. He stopped just outside the prison, still not looking down. “Y/N. Can ya feel me breathin’?” An almost imperceptible nod against his chest. “Wantcha ta try n’ match mine.” You struggled as he began to move, stepping inside once Carol opened the door. You still trembled but your panicked breaths were slowing.

“That’s it.” Carol encouraged. “Keep trying to breathe like Daryl. Steady in and out.” She placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and squeezed then ran ahead, calling for the veterinarian.

Daryl was approaching the cell block when you looked up at him, face red and cheeks wet. “I’m…I’m sorry, Daryl.”

Your apology befogged the archer. “Wha’ the hell fer?”

Your lip began to quiver just as he risked a glance at you. Shit.

“I…I m-m-messed up tr-training.”

The archer’s eyes softened. It would have been impossible to prevent it. “We all have close calls.” He explained, his tone almost gentle. “I fell down a ravine once n’ stabbed myself with my own bolt.” Carol was at the cell door waiting when he came walking through. “Jus’ gotta keep yer guard up, okay?”

You nodded, finally releasing his vest to wipe at your mess of a face. Daryl placed you on the table for Hershel and stepped back next to Carol.

“I’ll stay with her.” She said, not taking her eyes off of you. “I think Rick found some people today and brought them back. Think he may need a hand?” Daryl hummed but stayed rooted to the spot he occupied. “She’ll be fine, Pookie.” The point of her elbow found his ribs, resulting in a scowl aimed in her direction. “Go on.”

He couldn’t stay. Carol knew that too. You were likely to need to be undressed. Daryl turned and made his way out. “Lemme know.” He said without stopping, hearing Carol’s dismissive ‘mhm’ before he rounded the corner.

Hershel had declared you to be in better health than you had been when you first arrived. You’d gained a little weight. Your hair wasn’t as dull. Your skin wasn’t as dry. In his opinion, your time spent there had done wonders. No injuries from the day’s disaster, aside from the emotional distress. He had recommended a light sedative and rest for the remainder of the day, but you insisted that you had more to learn, hopped off the table, and went to find Daryl.

It was early evening, plenty of daylight left for more time at the fence. You were nervously wringing your hands as you searched outside without luck, venturing to areas you’d never been without Carol. Even in the daytime, the empty sections made your skin crawl.

There was a stretch of concrete around one side that dipped into a wide alley of sorts. Carol would take you there sometimes to work on laundry when your anxiety was at distressing levels. It was unlikely you’d find Daryl there but it made sense that if Carol would bring you there for solitude, maybe the archer would visit for the same reason.

You rounded the corner, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone you were familiar with was outside. You felt on edge going out of sight without someone escorting you. When you walked right into someone, you thought it was Daryl for the briefest of moments.

“I’m so sorry!” You looked up to lock eyes with a man you had never seen before. “I didn’t… I-I’m sorry. I should—” You started to turn. Your heart was thundering behind your ribs.

“Oh, hey, hey, hey!” The man placed a large hand on your shoulder and squeezed, the pressure uncomfortable, bordering on painful. “What’s your hurry, princess?” Your mouth moved but you couldn’t make your voice work. “Hey, Marvin, c’mere!”

“Who’s this?” The second man asked, reaching toward you to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger while the first led you further into the alley. “She’s awfully pretty, Lonny.”

“She sure is.” Lonny’s hand left your shoulder to wrap around your waist, pulling you along beside him. “What’s your name, doll?” You didn’t answer. You pressed the heels of your shoes into the concrete, trying to slow the journey or make him lose his grip.

“Lonny and I are new here.”

“Mhm. That, we are.”

“Came in with a group today. Maybe you could give us the official welcome celebration.”

“I need, um, I need to get back. Daryl. He’s gonna be looking for me.” You lied, hoping they had met the archer. You were nearly certain no one would fuck with you if they thought Daryl might come in search.

“Daryl. Daryl. Which one was that, Marv?”

“The guy who asked us how many people we killed?”

A hand wandered down your side and then under your shirt, roughly caressing the skin below your ribs. You made a distressed noise in the back of your throat, struggling in earnest to get away. Both men chuckled at your efforts.

“Nah, I think it may have been mister crossbow.”

“You know, it’s funny. We got in here on a technicality.” You managed to slip out of their grasp, not waiting a single second before running toward the corner.

“Help! Carol!” She had promised. She promised. “Hel—”

Something slammed into you from behind, sending you tumbling to the ground. You caught yourself on your palms, feeling the sting of the unforgiving concrete. Marvin crawled up to press you down with the weight of his body, laughing when you began to sob.

“Y’see, we never killed any of them girls.” He licked the shell of your ear, the sound alone making your stomach turn. “We did what we wanted and then left ‘em for the dead to enjoy.”

“Get her pants off.” Lonny ordered. You could hear the shuffle of clothing, the frictional drag of a zipper. You kicked and shouted; tried crawling away when you had no time to get to your feet.

“Keep her still!”

Your hair was tugged harshly before your face was slammed against the ground. White hot pain permeated through your skull before a blissful numbness. Time seemed to pass in clouded fragments, pieces missing that left the events incomplete. The feel of fabric sliding down your legs. Muted voices and laughter. Pain, dulled but consistent.

A brief reprieve of just nothing.

Your eyes peeled open slowly, the pain registering before your vision gave you anything but a blurry mess of colors. There was a wet burn between your legs, which were bare and being scraped by the rough texture of the concrete. You managed a whine and pulled your hands up beside your head, clawing at the ground to try and drag yourself away from the rough digits scratching against your inner walls.

“Don’t fuck it up too much, man.”

“Looks like someone already did that.”

The sob that broke from your lips was accompanied by a wrecked version of ‘ow.’ There was blood below your face, you could feel its stickiness on your skin; the way your tears carved through it.

Carol had promised. You were meant to be safe now. The fight drained from you, your training hooked and pulled to the forefront of your addled brain. Your body didn’t belong to you. Let them use you. That’s what you were made for; that was your purpose.

You closed your eyes.

“Ya got less than one goddamn second ta move away from her ‘fore I put a bolt in yer brain.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting to breathe out one word.

“Daryl.”

Taglist:

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lady-phasma · 7 months ago

Text

Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 1 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Kinda Friends to Lovers, Bathing/Washing, Awkward Flirting, Not Canon Compliant, No PTSD in chapter 1 (mentions of past abuse in later chapters), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, Fingering, Choking, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: Making friends in Alexandria is easier than on the road, which also means friendships can evolve and become something more if the connection is there. There's definitely a connection. Non-canon compliant because I don't ship him with Leah. (I think this is my longest fic, probably because this has been cooking for the full 11 years of TWD.) No beta. 9k words.

Daryl opened the door to the small “apartment” he lived in. Not really an apartment as much as the finished basement of one of the original surviving homes. Dog ran in first, pushing past his legs before the door could open fully. He watched as Dog started licking and nuzzling something on the couch. Dog wasn’t warning him but Daryl was always cautious and set his crossbow down gently as he closed the door and grabbed his knife from his belt all in one swift movement.

No one in Alexandria locked their doors, most of them probably didn’t have the keys to the houses anymore if they had ever had them at all. That meant that people didn’t trespass either. It was an unspoken rule made from mutual respect. Even in the faint light coming through the curtained garden windows he could tell this was a someone just not who. He started to relax a little but still held his knife as he turned on a lantern. Dog whined as the head on the couch turned and sniffed and groaned.

“Tha hell,” Daryl almost yelled it. “Dog, sit! What tha hell’re you doin’ here?” He stepped closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table. Eye level with Kristina as she sat up bleary-eyed and disheveled.

“Ya ain’t gotta yell,” she said as she rubbed her eyes open. Her short hair was sticking up all over on the side that had been on the pillow. “Anyway you’re the one that’s late.”

Daryl grunted and put the lantern on the coffee table. Kristina swung her feet onto the floor to make room on the couch for him.

“Ain’t late for nuthin’,” he grumbled as he stood up. He took his vest off and draped it over a chair followed by his belt and all the attachments. He even put his knife on the side table before sitting down on the couch.

“Well you’re late getting back is what I mean,” she said as he sat. “You were out on a run and gone longer than I thought. Find anything good?”

“Nah,” he answered. “Same as most days, ‘bout nuthin’ left here. Why’re ya here?”

“Because…” she let out a sleepy little yawn “you said that we should hang out today but then I remembered I don’t have a calendar and I don’t know what day it is so if you said Friday maybe it’s Monday and I’m the late one.” She chuckled a little at her own nonsense and that made Daryl scoff or grunt or whatever that noise was that he makes when something is slightly humorous.

She lifted her sock clad feet and a portion of blanket up onto the couch, almost in his lap but not quite. She tucked her cold toes between his leg and the couch cushion as she leaned back on the arm of the couch and looked at him.

“You had a hard day, huh?” she tried but he rarely took the bait. She was feeling him out, trying to get the sense of his mood.

Daryl shook his head just a tiny bit then shot her a side glance briefly before looking down at his hands again. He appeared to be missing the “armor” of having his pocket knife to clean his nails to avoid eye contact.

“We’ve been friends awhile,” she leaned up and hugged her knees. “Not as long as some but a while, right? So you should know by now I’m not asking as your therapist, hell I don’t even need full and complete sentences!” The half of his face she could see shifted into a slight grin at this. She desperately wanted to reach out and move the hair back from his face but they weren’t those friends.

“Yeah,” he spoke this more than grunted so that was progress.

Kristina really wanted to be more than friends with him but had never pushed him, would never. She was so curious about him. There was only so much you could learn about someone if they didn’t talk. She knew his relationship with Carol was particularly special because they had spent so many months living out there and they didn’t always need words to communicate. Trauma bonds will do that to people. She really wasn’t his therapist. She functioned as one in Alexandria for most people but never for him unless he asked. She didn’t want him to. She wanted him to need her for other things. She had been through a lot of shit when the world fell apart, made some unpleasant choices. She had survived. She didn’t want him to be her therapist either but she had shared some of the milder parts of her past with him as a kind of proof to him that she wasn’t soft or, rather, that being here hadn’t made her soft. She hadn’t told him everything but she probably would eventually, if he let her.

“Com’on, I have an idea, and don’t argue,” she said as she stood up. Stood up so quickly in fact that she startled Dog who had been nearly asleep next to the couch. “No whining either, just trust me.”

“I don’t whine,” he said, looking up at her and suppressing a bit of a grin. She smiled widely at him but let him win that one. She reached down and grabbed his hands and feigned pulling him up weakly. He conceded and stood up.

She led him by one hand through the small area he called a bedroom (truly an alcove with a mattress on the floor but whatever) and into the bathroom. She barely heard his “huh?” as they walked in. He was tired but he was also filthy. Alexandria’s electricity was mostly out but their cisterns kept water pressure pretty strong as long as everyone wasn’t opening their taps at the same time. She closed the toilet lid and pushed his shoulders down as a signal to sit. He actually didn’t argue.

First, Kristina plugged the tub drain, then she turned on the hot tap and ran the water over her inner wrist testing its temperature. She wasn’t optimistic but what was in the hot water tank had stayed pretty warm. Some of the solar electricity must be working during the day. She ran the water into the tub until it ran almost cold. Looking at the amount and scowling she turned around to look at Daryl and raised an eye brow. He was watching her intently. She blushed a little. He couldn’t read her mind thank god because she had only glanced at him to assess water displacement and how full the tub needed to be for comfort and at that moment thought about him without his clothes on. Naked Daryl, my, well that would be different. She shook her head and looked back at the tub.

The water was cooling off so she instructed him to “stay right there, just a sec” and bounded through to the kitchenette for a pan and a sterno can. When she returned to the bathroom she looked around and realized the best place for the sterno was on the toilet lid but Daryl was still where she had told him to stay.

“Ugh, what now?!” he grumbled.

“Get up! Laws of thermodynamics and all that means your water’s coolin’ off, so I’m going to do this and you get undressed,” she bossed at him while setting up her burner and pan.

“No, wha?” he blustered “Uhn-uh, nope.”

“Oh you big baby, just do it,” she teased, she made sure the teasing was evident in her tone. Once she had filled the pan with water and sat it over the flame she turned to see what she had expected: Daryl pressed so hard against the opposite wall that he might just sink into it, with all his clothes on.

Kristina giggled a very girlish giggle, something she rarely ever had occasion to do in her 30s but damn he was endearing. He looked up at her with those eyes and through his filthy hair and she couldn’t stop herself. Walking slowly as if toward a cornered wild animal she made the couple of steps to him. She slowly reached out her hand and put it on one of his, slid it around so they were palm to palm.

“Look, you don’t have to,” she soothed. “But the water is warm, I’ll add some more hot as fast as it heats so you don’t get cold. I won’t see anything you don’t want me to and anyway, when did you last bathe? That wasn’t in a creek?”

His grin was reply enough to that and was a very sincere grin. He nodded slightly and she let go of his hand.

She tested the water in the tub again, nodded to herself, and tested the water that had been heating while they talked and sucked in a sharp breath when she felt the hot water hit the tips of her fingers. She grabbed a towel to hold the pan’s handle and gradually mixed in the heated water with that in the tub. She filled the pan again from the sink. It probably wouldn’t take many more of these to make it comfortable. She waited, looking at the pan of water on the flame as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world because she didn’t dare turn around.

At first she had only heard the soft swooshes of shirt fabric as he began to get undressed. Then she had heard one boot, then the next, thump onto the tile floor. The next sounds were out of context so she could only imagine what was happening while staring at this incredibly interesting pan of water. She heard Daryl’s bare feet make a few steps on the floor and then a hand moved past her to grab a bath cloth off the rack.

“Scuse me,” he said very close to her ear. All of the muscles in her neck froze to keep her from pivoting to see how much progress he had made.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied. Except she kind of croaked the words out and had to clear her throat a bit. She decided to test the water.

“Shit! Okay well that’s hot enough.” she yelped. “So I need to pour this in and I can’t do it with my eyes closed so if you don’t want me to see something, whatever, cover it in 3… 2… 1….” She turned slowly looking mostly at the pan and the floor then the tub. But she knew she would look at him once she started pouring. Who wouldn’t?

Daryl stood looking mostly at his feet but not cowering or shy like she had expected. It occurred to her that he probably bathed naked or just in his underwear out in the woods but there just wasn’t anyone to see him. So in this small room the only things that were modest were his gaze and using the bath cloth like a loin cloth. He was tan but also very dirty and she was pretty sure this one bath wouldn’t be enough but he could deal with that tomorrow.

“Okay, I think it’s ready for you but I’m going to heat at least one more pan,” she said far too quickly, almost making one word from them all and turned to the sink to refill it.

“Uh, thanks,” he said from behind her. Then the water in the tub made a sloshing sound and then another. There was some squeaking on porcelain, presumably his hands on the sides as he lowered himself in, and that mental image was actual the first one that consciously made her flush and feel the tug between her legs. She had thought Daryl sexy very, very many times and had probably had this normal, biological reaction to him many times, but this was different. This time was not brief or from her own imaginings. She took a deep breath and relished it.

Daryl sighed and then inhaled sharply. He went all the way under the water, coming up sputtering and smiling to himself a bit. She noticed the shampoo on a high shelf and, without looking, sat it near the tub so he could reach it.

“You good on soap?” she asked the pan of water.

“M’fine,” he said. “You don’t hafta keep starin at that water. I’m in now, won’t embarrass ya.”

Kristina looked over at him and the blush rose from her cheeks to her hairline. Shit, yup, Daryl was now Naked Daryl. She didn’t stare at any one place and after making eye contact briefly she put her gaze on the floor. Mostly out of respect. She decided she could sit on the bath mat and keep an eye on the heating water without feeling like an interloper. He didn’t tell her to leave and it didn’t occur to her to leave but there was more water heating so she’d stay until that pan was finished.

He sighed and leaned his head back, dipping his hair into the water again. She had seen some of his scars before but he still kept most of them out of view. She had a clear view of one on his chest she had only glimpsed before through an open shirt or when he changed quickly out of blood and dirt covered clothes. She desperately wanted to touch each of them. She equally didn’t want to get caught staring though she was pretty sure he already knew she was.

She tested the temp of the water on the sterno and it felt hot enough. Maybe he would ask her to leave and that would be that and she’d wait with Dog in the living room. She blew out the sterno flame and he opened his eyes, looking at her sideways without moving his head. Now the only light source was the small lantern. The sudden semi-darkness had surprised them both.

“Uh, do you want me to, um, or you can if you’d rather,” she stumbled through that question without finishing. “I don’t want to burn you. How’s the water?” She wanted to sew her mouth shut. Wow that was embarrassing.

“You can if ya want,” he answered as he closed his eyes. “I trust ya. Water’s good. Thanks again. Ya knew I’d just go to bed smellin like the woods.”

“Like the woods for starters and dead things and dirt and Dog. He needs a bath soon too!” she was able to tease unselfconsciously again in the dimmer light. She couldn’t see anything below the surface of the water, not that she was looking, but that made them both less tense it seemed. Like he were less naked.

Kristina turned to pick up the sterno can and take it and the pan to the kitchenette when she felt his hand lightly on her wrist.

“Don’t go,” he whispered without looking up.

She placed everything on the sink and went to sit on the bathmat again, this time she put her back against the tub wall, facing away from him, and hugged her knees to her chest. They sat in silence like that for some time. She really did cherish that he enjoyed silence. The world before had been so loud that it made her anxious. Now the sounds of walkers was almost constant depending on your location. Any silence when you were able to be unguarded was sacrosanct.

She heard the water sloshing gently behind her and smelled the mingled odor of the outdoors with the floral soap and smiled. He would definitely feel better and sleep better.

“Hey, could ya do one more a’ those?” he asked in a low whisper trying not to disturb their silence too much. Wordlessly she set everything up, lit the sterno, they both squinted at the extra light, and filled the pan. She sat back in her exact spot on the bath mat.

At first her brain lagged and didn’t know how her arm got wet. She felt the warm water on her upper arm before she felt his fingers. Then his fingers went up under her t-shirt sleeve and back down, up then down. So slowly that she almost shivered and she did make the smallest moan then clenched her jaw tight so no other sound could escape. He was so guarded against the world that touching someone seemed impossible. She had analyzed that from afar for a while now, not infrequently. But the part of her brain trained in analysis wasn’t in control at the moment. Right now she just wanted to feel this. When she leaned to check the water somehow, not intentionally on her part, his fingers grazed the side of her breast. She hitched in a small breath. She was pretty sure he had been looking at her and aimed that last touch.

The water was hot enough so she blew out the sterno and turned, still on her knees, with the pan ready to pour in the hot water. His blue eyes glinted in the dim light as he watched her. He was beautiful like that. Strong, lean, hair wet against his head, muscular arms on either side of the tub, amazingly unselfconscious. Just waiting on her. She nearly dropped the pan when he quirked up one corner of his mouth.

“Whasa matter with you?”he asked.

“Nuthin’,” she muttered. She started gently pouring the water into the tub and unconsciously glanced at him under the water. The bath cloth was strategically placed and she relaxed a little. Then she knelt next to the bath and swallowed hard.

“Well, I’ll let ya get on with it,” she told him. “You probably need two or three good scrubbin’s and your hair. Do you sleep in mud?!” Her hand was halfway to smooth back his hair before she realized it. She followed through and pushed a lock back from his cheek. He didn’t look at her.

“Nah,” he replied and cupped both his hands full of water and swept it over his head. He sunk down into the tub just a bit, knees poking out of the surface now. “An’ don’t go.” His eyes were closed as the water ran down his face.

“Okay,” Kristina replied. “So whatcha wanna do, talk?” She laughed a little and she noticed the corners of his mouth twitched up at that. She enjoyed teasing him because he knew his own idiosyncrasies and wasn’t embarrassed around her… most of the time.

Daryl started fiddling with the soap and cloth nervously and unproductively. He seemed to finally realize he was naked. He looked over at her watching him. It was a good thing his face was flushed from the warm water or she would see him blush.

“Lord, why am I even in here then?” she asked exasperatedly. She snatched the bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub, anxiety forcing her to do something. “Sit up.”

He did as he was told while she put some shampoo on her hands. She started out gently and then the absolute mess of his hair distracted her from her nerves. She had never washed a grown man’s hair before in her life and had not planned this but now that she was doing it she wondered a bit about why he was letting her. She had her suspicions about his experience with women and understood his shyness. But this felt out of character at the moment, out of character for both of them.

She scrubbed at the tangles and grumbled. “Dunk,” she commanded. He did. She added a bit more shampoo and massaged it in. From the corner of her eye she saw him start to actually use the bath cloth to clean his face, neck, arms. His arms. Her breath hitched a little at the sight of his bare biceps.

She rose up on her knees to get better leverage on this mess and her breast pressed into his shoulder. The water soaked through her t-shirt and bra. She tried to continue with the task at hand but both of them had frozen for a moment, keenly aware of the contact. She didn’t pull away. She decided to appear to ignore it, maybe it would be a signal to him. She took advantage of the accident and pressed a little more against him. He made a sound like quietly clearing his throat. She smiled to herself a little.

When she was satisfied that his hair was as clean as it would be this time she told him to rinse. She sat back on her heels as he sunk under the water and ran his fingers through his hair. He came up sputtering and immediately shook his head like a dog, spraying her and the bathroom with water. She laughed and instinctively shoved his shoulder.

“Hey! Not fair,” she played but her hand lingered a bit longer than intended.

Daryl scoffed, that small laugh of his. He leaned back and started working the soap in his hands. Still avoiding eye contact. What on earth is he thinking, she wondered. The longer this stretched out the more she began to feel things, things she wasn’t sure she was supposed to feel. She had always been bold with men but most weren’t as… as what? delicate? as he was. Timid might be the more accurate word. She couldn’t just grab him and drag him to his bed even if that’s ultimately what he was trying to get her to do. So she stood up and perched on the edge of the tub. She held out her hand. He looked up at her slowly from her hand, up her arm, to her face, questioning.

“Gimme,” she said. “Soap and cloth.” Neither of them broke eye contact as he put them in her hand. Their fingers grazed.

She had never done this before and felt a very awkward. She wasn’t judging him for wanting this, she could probably psychoanalyze why he wanted her to, but she was trying to enjoy it for him. If she was tense he would pick up on it. He was too perceptive not to.

Kristina wet the cloth and her hands in the water next to his legs, extra careful not to touch him. She tried to exhale as quietly as possible. She slid closer to the end of the tub and positioned herself almost behind him. She pressed her fingertips on his shoulders, indicating she wanted him to lean forward. He did but he kind of crumpled and drew his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. She really had never seen all of his scars and tattoos. He kept them hidden. She gently started washing the back of his neck, then she realized she would actually have to scrub. She was honestly embarrassed, more than he was it seemed.

Her mind was racing as she washed down his shoulders and back. All these thoughts and at the forefront was the idea that he knew exactly how uncomfortable this made her. Dixon could be that manipulative? Nah. she argued with herself. She scrubbed a bit too hard over a recent bruise and he pulled away and hissed air through his teeth.

“Sorry, shit,” she said and laid her bare palm on the bruise. He softened a bit with that but didn’t speak. She slowly finished what she could reach and then pulled back on his shoulder for him to lean back. She rinsed and re-soaped the cloth and decided to be a little bold, test his intentions a bit. His eyes were closed so she started on his neck and down his shoulder, bicep, to the water’s surface. She retraced her path and then moved the cloth slowly down his chest. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t move. She wanted to feel the hair and the scars on him with her bare hand but it was too soon to drop this ridiculous pretense.

She leaned across to reach his other shoulder deliberately pressing her breasts against him. He did move a little then. A kind of shrug, not to move away but to reciprocate. She wiped the cloth down his other arm and then slowly sat back up. She cleared her throat a bit more loudly than she intended. In the silence of the bathroom it almost echoed.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked at her. She just couldn’t put her hands under the water. She panicked and dropped the cloth. She stood up, didn’t quite run from the room but almost. She was out so quickly that she left the door open behind her. She leaned against the wall in his bedroom and exhaled, shaking all over. Nope, I did not just do that, she thought. She had. She had fled. Whatever he was doing, on purpose or not, was too much for her. She heard the drain start in from the bathroom. A few more noises and then Daryl was in the doorway, the towel wrapped low on his hips.

“Thas how it is, huh?” he had a great poker face.

“Mmmm,” was the best she could muster in front of his defined muscles. She felt herself shake her head side to side without meaning to. God how she wanted to start babbling and explaining and deflecting but also not do those things and just let this play out how he wanted.

He walked toward her. So big and silent. He could look menacing if he tried but his face was always kind to her. His hair was tousled and in his eyes again. Unph. She almost made that sound out loud. Instead she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. His eyes caught on that movement while he took the few steps to her. She could feel the heat coming off him, he was so close to her. He smelled wonderful, not entirely clean as she suspected. She could smell him.

There was no way he was doing this, being the opposite of shy with her. He looked down at the wet spots on her shirt. He started to touch her hand but only hovered next to it then let his drop to his side. He started talking, mumbling, toward the floor.

“Dunno, it’s dumb,” he said. “Jus wanted to see if you would, ya know, do somethin.”

Wow he was so uncomfortable even after trying to seem otherwise that she ached for him and the courage he must have dug up from deep inside. Very slowly she thought she understood how he could see something incredibly awkward as an opening. Realization dawning, she smiled up at him. She would not laugh because she didn’t want to risk him ever thinking that she was laughing at him. She had to pause to choose her next words and actions carefully. He wasn’t confident enough to overtly take control but wanted it, wanted her to give in, meet him more than halfway.

“Yes, Daryl,” she almost whispered. She brushed a wet lock of hair back from his forehead and trailed her fingers down his jaw. She liked that he didn’t shave. “Yes, I would do anything but only with your consent. Probably, I’d do some things I didn’t want to,” she tipped her head in the direction of the bathroom, hopefully indicating that had been awkward for her.

“Yeah?” he almost growled, the single syllable rumbling in his chest.

“Sure,” she let her fingers move to his lips and she thought she had finally lost her mind. “Sure, just as long as I know it’s what you want.” He pulled away but not in a way that made her regret her honesty.

“Yer prolly doin that head shrinkin’ thing,” he said dubiously, inspecting her eyes for any reaction, any tale-tale sign that she would lie to him.

“Never!” she said a bit louder than she planned. “I couldn’t anyway,” she winked at him. “You’re a completely open book.” He almost laughed at this, almost. Kristina was relieved that he was great at picking up on her sarcasm.

They stood silently for nearly too long, it was almost uncomfortable. Finally Daryl took a step back. He held the towel at his waist and started to walk toward the living room. She was pretty sure he was going to put clothes on and she would miss this window, this giant window with a neon sign flashing “entrance” above it, and she’d be damned if she would miss that.

“Wait,” she grabbed the wrist of his free hand and he stopped. He didn’t turn toward to her, just froze. She stepped up behind him. Still wishing not to rush things and probably failing, she lightly touched his shoulder, a scar. He winced. She traced her finger down his spine to the top of the towel. She flattened her palm on his hip and pulled their bodies together. He was quite a bit taller than her so her head was exactly level with the space between his shoulder blades. She watched them flex, he was now holding the towel with both hands. She continued to slide her palm around him, to his stomach. He stiffened as she placed her other hand there as well and pressed her entire body into him. She hugged him tightly, waiting, hoping he would breathe and start to relax. She felt the rumble against her cheek as he sighed or moaned or whatever that sound was. He shifted and placed a hand on top of hers.

She didn’t know how long they stood there but it seemed neither of them was in a hurry to move. She did though. She gently pulled her hands back, trailed her fingers along his back in the direction she was walking, summoning him. She stood in front of the mattress on the floor and waited for him to turn around. When he did, when she knew he was watching, she started to lift her t-shirt over her head but he nearly pounced to stop her. He grabbed her hand while only her stomach was bared. He tightened the towel around his waist and hesitantly grabbed the hem of her shirt, sliding it up and off. He dropped it on the floor. His hands hovered momentarily and then he slid them down her bare arms.

Daryl stepped so close to her that they were nearly touching again. He tipped her chin up to him with his fingers. She looked at him and parted her lips slightly. He leaned down as if to kiss her but stopped with their mouths only millimeters apart. He licked his lips but still seemed unable to make up his mind. Then, suddenly, he was kissing her. Lips pressed hard together against teeth. Inexpertly but lovely. She kissed him back, desperate, but not opening her mouth further, letting him lead. She felt his tongue against her lips and the surprise ran down her spine to her clit. She encouraged him with her own. God how she wanted to press against him, hurry him.

He put a hand on the back of her head and twisted his fingers in her short hair as best he could. He didn’t pull her into him but tugged, almost pulled on her hair. He groaned into her mouth. She pushed her tongue past his lips, exploring his tongue, his mouth. She placed her hands on either side of his face hoping to help him relax his clenched jaw. It almost worked. Until it didn’t. He overthought everything and this touch startled him enough to pull back from their kiss.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I, uh, I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She enjoyed this for a few moments, the closeness, breathing each other in.

“That’s okay,” she said in a near whisper. “Com’on, sit down.” She sat on the mattress and leaned her bare back against the cold wall. She shivered. He slumped down next to her and the towel slipped a little, showing one of his thighs more than he might have wanted if he had noticed. She turned to look at him, not stopping herself from smoothing his hair back just a bit. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him but she was pretty sure that was not what he wanted.

She pressed the side of her body up against him completely. She let her fingers slide over the back of his hand and then rest on it.

“Hey…” she whispered. When he looked at her she kissed his cheek, jaw, then his bottom lip. Using her hand to guide him she lifted his and set it gently on her breast. Her bra was still damp and her nipple was hard against his palm. He made the best sounds, this one between a grunt and a groan, and she was positive he had no idea how sexy he was when he did that. She pressed the back of his hand lightly until his fingers flexed. She arched her back. He turned toward her more fully and started to explore, edging his finger tips under the edges of her bra.

Kristina made all of her movements slow and deliberate, contorting her arms behind herself to flick open her bra. She nudged the straps down and he took the hint. His breath was warm on her chest but her nipples ached they were so hard. He sat up, leaned down, and slowly put his lips on one nipple then carefully licked at it. Her moans encouraged him. He sucked her nipple into his mouth. He caressed and kissed and licked with singular focus, adjusting based on the noises he drew from her.

Then he knelt and pulled her under him. It was strained and awkward at first. Her legs were curled under her, he held her up with a hand on her back while the other kneaded her breast. She sighed and pushed against his mouth. His hands were rough and strong. The feeling of his scruffy beard on her bare chest sent electricity through her entire body. He was perfect and a quick study. She tested putting her hands on his sides, smoothing them up his back, wrapping her arms around them to pull him closer. As she did this he started to lay her back on the bed. She straightened her legs out under him. She became acutely aware that her jeans were still on and he was mostly naked. He moved his hand from her back and cupped both of her breasts in his hands. His sharp, ragged breaths made her hips rise. She was pinned by him as he straddled her, holding her in place with his thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut harder not allowing herself to find out if his towel was still holding on for dear life. That would ruin this moment of focusing only on Daryl’s mouth and hands.

He felt her hips move and her back arch. He split his attention between her breast and finding his way to the waistband of her jeans. One handed he unbuttoned them and ripped open the zipper. She gasped a little and dug her fingers into his back. She wanted him to do everything at once, anything he decided to do next was fine by her. He slowly let her nipple slide from his lips. He began kissing her collarbones, her neck, her jaw, and then, finally her mouth. She opened her eyes to find his were open as he watched and decoded every her every move and expression. She felt his fingertips under the elastic of her panties and stayed as still as possible, kissing him harder, brushing her tongue over his lips.

She was so wet. She probably had been since he first undressed in the bathroom. He moaned into their kiss as his fingers slid between her folds and over her clit. He was learning, exploring, and taking his time. He moved his other hand to the bed beside her head to support his weight and get a better angle. He drug his finger through her wetness and up onto her belly. He started to sit up, ending the slow, delicious kiss and she lifted her head trying to keep their lips together as long as possible. His large, strong hand pushed her back, actually shoved her, onto the mattress. Her eyes went wide.

When he gripped the waist of both her jeans and panties she had to look down. He was pulling them down while he worked his way to the foot of the bed. Miraculously the towel was still on his hips but only barely. She could see how hard he was. He was basically naked and when he slipped her pants off her feet he also dropped his towel on the floor. This is happening, she thought. Holy shit. Before any more thoughts could form he was spreading her legs, opening them by her ankles. He looked at every part of her with such intensity that she wasn’t at all surprised when he kissed her calves. Then he started his way up placing kissed behind her knee, on her thigh, on the inside of her thigh. He smoothed a hand up over her hip bone and rested it firmly on her belly as he kissed the sensitive skin in the crease of her hip. It was clear he wasn’t going straight to her pussy. Her eyes were fixed on him and as soon as he was within reach she put her hands in his hair.

Daryl’s eyes shot up at her, his mouth still on her hip. For just a second he seemed to being making a decision. Then he lifted his head and grabbed her wrists, one in each of his hands. He slammed them down on the bed firmly. Message received. She pressed them down to indicate she understood. He almost smiled as he dipped his head to place more kisses on her belly and just below her breasts. Her hips moved and tilted and his hands stopped them as well, fingers digging in hard against her hip bones. She moaned. So this is it, she thought, this is what he was afraid of?

He roughly forced her legs wider apart, careful not to put his thigh where they both wanted it. He leaned over her, his knees holding her thighs open, the cool air on her pussy making her tremble. Okay not just the air. His hands were on either side of her head now. How badly she wanted to put her hands on his arms, feel his muscles, touch every part of him. He looked down at her, almost drowsily, and the groaning purring rumble started in his chest again. He kissed her fiercely, briefly.

“This good?” he asked because he had to. Not because she needed him to but he needed assurance, guidance.

“Mmmhmmm,” she mewled and her body reflexively arched and tried to roll her hips against him.

“No,” he said tonelessly. She stopped.

“This ain’t the time to say this,” he started. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, gathering courage. “But I ain’t never, I mean, well, shit.” He blushed. She started to lift her hands to comfort him, sooth him, and let them fall back to her sides. So she just tilted her head slightly and smiled.

“S’okay,” she whispered. She felt like it would be disobeying too soon if she were to touch him so she had to find the words. She licked her lips and looked directly in his eyes. “Take your time, tell me what you want, show me, we do it how you need to, kay?”

Daryl answered by sliding a hand down her body, without breaking eye contact, and slipping a finger through her wetness again. She let out a small breath and he smiled just a bit. She swallowed hard.

“May I?” she nervously asked.

He grunted assent. So she carefully slid a hand over his, lining her fingers up with his. He groaned and closed his eyes, concentrating. She used her fingers to guide him, first circling her clit then dipping lower. She gently pressed his finger into her and sighed. She slid her hand to his wrist and pushed. It had the desired effect and his finger moved deeper into her. The sounds he made were always guttural, sincere, almost feral. Maybe he had never even had his fingers in a woman. This thought made her cunt ache and she clinched around him.

“Another,” she begged.

He obliged, slipping a second finger inside her. Her hips twitched toward him. His entire body started to move as he began to fuck her with his fingers. They seemed to become aware, for the first time, of his dick pressed between them. She struggled not to push her hips down on his fingers. She wanted him to fill her and she didn’t know if he could read the signs. She spread her legs wider and moaned, almost begging wordlessly. He obliged and slid a second finger in. Certain that it was not possible for him to being enjoying this as much as she was, Kristina flushed when she opened her eyes to see him watching her. That intense focus aimed at her. Like tracking an animal, he was reading every sign available to him. He bit his bottom lip. His eyes moved over her arms by her sides, her chest rising and falling, her hips rolling, the place where their skin touched at the hip.

He ground his palm into her clit and pulled his fingers almost completely out. Then, very nearly roughly, he pushed three fingers into her. He bit his lower lip. He was using only a fraction of his strength but watching his arm working to make her feel this good made her want to grab onto it, claw and scratch at him. He really was paying close attention and curled his fingers slightly inside her. Her cunt clenched tight on him and she balled the sheets of the bed in her fists. She didn’t recognize the sounds that came out of her mouth but some of them resembled his name. Then his thumb pressed on her clit. He didn’t move it, only increased the pressure.

“Oh god Daryl,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.” She couldn’t fill her lungs with air.

He put his mouth close enough to her ear that she almost felt his lips move. “No.”

She couldn’t contain a deep groan but it wasn’t protesting, it was resignation and she tried with all of her focus to relax her grip on his fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the mattress dip with his weight as he pressed up to be right above her, on top of her. His dick nudged at her belly and he hissed sharply. He had moved his weight to his knees to free his other hand. With it her gripped her jaw, under her chin and lifted it up. She was learning him as quickly as he was learning her. She opened her eyes. She was supposed to be looking at him, not escaping the sensations. His thumb was harder on her clit, he had more leverage with this angle. He leaned in and kissed her. This time forcing her lips apart with his tongue. He was hurried and desperate and hungry. She gave in and made room for him.

She wasn’t completely sure she had ever allowed anyone to control her like this. She was excited, thrilled, by it. The release of control, no longer making decisions, but mostly allowing him to take pleasure from her… that was flattering for lack of a better word. It made her feel sexy and uninhibited. In the past few years there hadn’t been time for those feelings. Every moment of life was filled with decisions and nothing remotely sexy. She wanted to relax and enjoy this but she was so close and it had been a while since anyone had given her an orgasm other than herself. And this was giving, if he ever allowed it this would be a helluva gift.

At almost the same moment that he pulled his mouth from hers he removed his fingers. The sudden emptiness made her gasp. He actually smiled. Still kneeling and holding her face he placed his fingers on her mouth. He inhaled deeply in an almost crude way, smelling her. He started to slowly part her lips, encouraging her to do what he wanted. She did. With her inhibitions nearly forgotten she started sucking his fingers, doing whatever this enigmatic man asked. Whatever pleased him. If she took the time to really think about it she might panic, think this was too different from some core part of her. She wasn’t going to do that. Instead she sucked his fingers deep into her throat, wanting only to pull those sounds from him. Or to finally make him grind into her, give her the friction she needed.

He took his fingers away and briefly kissed her. Then he mumbled something into her mouth.

“Huh?” she was barely able to focus. He released her chin and propped himself up, one hand on either side of her head again, and leaned in close.

“Ya want it?” he growled. She wasn’t entirely sure it was a question but she moaned and nodded emphatically.

Daryl straightened, placed a hard, heavy hand on her belly, and stared at her pussy for a moment. He wrapped his hand around his dick and began to slowly stroke. She couldn’t look away but watching made her ache. She realized his hand was on her stomach to keep her still so he could watch. He pressed harder when she started squirm and push her hips toward him.

“Uhn-uh,” he said without looking at her.

He was actually expertly rubbing the head of his dick against her clit. His sighs were deeper now. He slid his hand from her belly to her hip, nearly to her ass, and guided her to tilt and lift her hips how he wanted her. She felt exposed. Now embarrassment washed over her. Her legs were spread wide, her hips raised, and all for him, only him. So he could look at her. She could follow through and trust this or she could stop. She didn’t want to stop. She was amazed at how exciting this humiliation was, wanted to let her mind examine how much he intended to humiliate her. She was relieved when he guided her ass to rest on his thighs, her calves were trembling from the position.

Once she had relaxed and trusted him with her weight his hand went back to her belly. He stroked her clit with his thumb while also holding her down. She let out a small huff when she realized what he was doing. That made him glance up at her face. His head still tilted down but his eyes studying her behind his loose, messy hair. She wanted to pout, put on a show for him, antagonize him, but thought maybe that would come later, if they ever did this again. Instead she mouthed please and he lowered his gaze again.

His dick nudged at her pussy, sliding in just a bit but it was enough that she completely understood why he was holding her still. He’s really never done this?! her mind yelled. He pulled back almost punishing her for trying to rush. Then he started to slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slide into her. He released his grip on his dick and pushed into her until their hips met. He found her hips with his hands and pulled her closer. She didn’t know if he could go any deeper but she wanted it. Wanted all of him in her. She didn’t want this delicious slowness to end but she desperately needed him to move. Her hands pulled at the sheets using anything she could to stay still like he wanted. His eyes flicked up when he saw the movement but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were shut tightly trying to center herself.

“Kristina,” he said. A flat toneless word the way he said it but it had more meaning behind it than she had ever heard. She moaned and looked at him. He wanted needed? her to watch, to be present. He withdrew and using her hips as leverage pushed back in. He intended for her to feel every inch of his dick but was taking it slow for himself. Out nearly completely, back in tapping lightly against her cervix. This sudden, unexpected resistance was the first thing to elicit an involuntary reaction: “shit” he hissed, drawing out the word. She had always enjoyed it when her cervix was involved in sex, if it wasn’t hard pressure it was pleasant but this, this was mind altering. His exploration, his excitement combined with her inability to move and control the fucking made every sensation heightened.

Daryl was definitely exploring. He repeated the action. Out, in, pressure on her cervix. His fingers were going to leave bruises on her hips and she didn’t care. He increased his speed, shortening his strokes, lifting both of them just a little each time. His eyes had barely left the place where he disappeared inside her cunt but now he looked up to watch her breasts sway with his efforts. He leaned forward, unintentionally pushing in farther than he had yet, and ran his hands up her sides. She was liquid, pliant, and let him move her like a doll. He scooped her up with his arms under hers, hands gripping her shoulders for leverage. She was no longer in control of any part of her body and instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. She had enough presence of mind to think he is so strong before letting her head fall into the crook of his neck. She was panting with the speed of his thrusts.

He had lifted her off the bed and into his lap and she felt small and dizzy and wonderful. There was no space between them, no room for him to pull out with each thrust. Her clit rubbed against the coarse hair on his lower belly. She couldn’t stop the rolling of her hips, clenching and unclenching around him. He kissed her neck, sometimes scraping his teeth over her skin, not quite biting. His lips brushed against her ear. One hand moved up her neck and into her hair, then back to her shoulder, lower to her ass. He was exploring, touching every part of her. She felt like he was touching her everywhere at once, inside and out.

When his hand snaked between them and his rough fingers found her nipple she started to beg and plead and warn “I’m going to come, please Daryl, oh god please.”

He breathed against her as his fingers dug into her shoulder, finding more purchase and bringing them closer together when she was sure there had been no more room. His other hand still rolling and pinching her nipple. They were both moving faster now. No difference between them, in perfect rhythm, and she noticed more than felt her fingernails dig into his back.

“Mmhmm,” he grunted. “I want ya to.”

An incoherent stream of ohfuckDarylohfuckfuck poured out of her mouth, head flung back, body arched toward him. She clamped her legs tight against his sides as her orgasm spread from her center. His arms moved to encircle her and press her breasts against his chest. She moaned with this new sensation. Groaned actually. It was going to be too much soon.

And then it was too much. His breath hitched in his chest and she felt him tense nearly every muscle in his body. His groan started deep in his chest. She wanted to feel that vibrate through her so she sat up straighter and ground her hips down onto his dick. He buried his face between her breasts and she tangled her hands in his hair.

“I’m gonna…” he tried to say through clenched teeth. “Ah baby I’m comin’. Fuck. Fu…” He crushed his face against her chest. She felt his hips jerk a few times then become still, felt his dick spasm inside her, and now she felt she could sooth and reassure without permission. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair, kissed the top of his head, and ran her hands down his neck and back. Then her hands found his face and turned it up to hers and she kissed him. Hard and rough and deep. She forced his mouth open with her tongue. He kissed her back and as he did her grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her up. He laid her back on the bed. She untangled her limbs from him. Then he slowly pulled out. She felt his cum trickle out, hot and more than a little satisfying.

He sank down heavily on the bed next to her. Half on his side, he laid an arm across her stomach and curled his fingers over her arm. She snuggled against his chest, still feeling small and safe but now also calm and quiet. Peaceful. With her eyes half-closed she languidly traced a scar on his arm.

“So that’s it huh?” he said quietly. She felt him smile as he kissed the top of her head.

“Well, when you put it like that,” she teased and giggled. She kissed his chest, pressed as much of her body against his as possible. “Yeah, that’s it, exactly it.”

Chapter 2

#daryl dixon #virgin!daryl x ofc #virgin!daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon x ofc #the walking dead daryl #daryl smut #x ofc #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #demisexual daryl

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whateverisbeautiful · 10 days ago

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Sorry if this is somewhere on your blog already but I was just curious if you had any thoughts on Michonne/Judith & Michonne/Carl and any moments you had that were your favourite or maybe top 5? Maybe even just Grimes Family 2.0 family moments you really enjoyed.

I relish any opportunity to reflect on the Grimes family, so thank you for this! Sorry, it took me a minute to respond. I adore Michonne’s relationship with Judith and Carl. They are both so important to Michonne’s healing and development and she’s so important to theirs as well. I like how through each relationship with her kids we got to see different aspects of Michonne’s motherhood.

With Carl being older, Michonne was able to first establish a genuine friendship with him first and then fully step into that mother role in his life. And then with Judith, Michonne got to raise her from the earliest stage of her life and see Judith grow up to be so much like her mom Michonne.

I definitely have favorite moments between Michonne/Carl and Michonne/Judith that I’ll share next. For this post, I wrote below my Top 5 Grimes Family 2.0 moments from TWD. 😊⬇️

#1: The Train Tracks (4.15)

This scene is so special for so many reasons and it’s one of my favorite scenes in all of TWD. I mentioned it in the Top 30, but one of the many things I love about this moment is how happy and light-hearted it is even despite their difficult and uncertain circumstances. Like they truly had so little at this time and yet it felt like they had everything because they had each other.

And before this, it was already more than clear that Michonne was vital to the Grimes, but seeing the way she was able to carve out some fun for Carl along their travels and make this world feel less dark and bleak for a moment further cemented how much Carl needs her, not just to protect him but to add brightness to life too. Their little competition and sharing of candy was such a nice depiction of Michonne and Carl's bond. And of course, Rick grinning from ear to ear while watching Michonne and Carl together really completes the scene and communicates that he has most certainly fallen in love with his son’s best friend. 😊

#2: The Scale of 1-10 (4.16)

There are a couple scenes between Rick, Michonne, and Carl on the road in the season 4 finale that could make my list of favorite Grimes family moments. They had so clearly become family and you just knew no matter what happens next this family unit would remain intact. But a scene that quickly comes to mind when asked about fav Grimes family moments is when the golden trio is hovering over a fire and Rick asks them how hungry they are on a scale of 1 to 10.

I always find that whole scene so sweet, especially when Michonne and Carl both answer above 10, and when Michonne says "28" Rick gives her the food first. And then when Carl wants to go with Rick to check the snares, I love the way Rick includes Michonne in that and wants her to come along as well. It was truly giving family camping trip and it showed how much Rick views Michonne as part of the Grimes family.

There’s also a s4 finale scene where Carl asks about what they’ll tell Terminus about themselves as he seems to be wondering who they’ve become and what parts of themselves they should share considering they’ve had to do a lot of tough things to survive. It’s such a subtle moment but I always love that when Carl asks this weighty question, Rick’s first instinct is to share a look with Michonne. To me, that look showed that Rick entrusts Michonne as a fellow parent to also be able to step in and address Carl’s questions.

And I love that she’s the one to respond and that Carl got to have both a mom and a dad to turn to during this time. Especially later when the Claimers show up, I think a huge reason why Carl didn’t entirely spiral after that experience is because he was able to have two parents who could both fiercely protect him and emotionally support and comfort him.

#3: The Morning Routine (6.10)

Anytime we got domestic Grimes Family moments it was always gold. And I love the insight we got into how the Grimes spend their mornings during that 6.10 episode. It was all so comfortable and I love that it’s a scene that includes Rick, Michonne, Carl, and adorable baby Judith too. Of course, the flirtatiousness and steam coming off Richonne as they near finally taking their relationship to the next level are great, but I also love the whole playful parents vibe with Carl having such teen responses to his parents calling him and his dad’s goofiness with repeating what he said.

I always appreciate that whenever the Grimes got a chance to enjoy some periods of normalcy with each other there was often lots of smiles and laughter included in those moments because they make each other happy and bring out each other’s most at ease side.

#4: The Art (9.01)

It is impossible for me to not smile over the opening Grimes Family scene in the season 9 premiere. Again, I love the way this gave insight into how their family spends quality time. With Michonne having been shown to love art, it’s the sweetest thing to see her out on the patio talking about Judith’s paintings with her and being so encouraging about it. I also love that we got to hear Judith talk more in this scene and that she has such a fondness for their family and friends with how she always likes to draw them, including her late brother Carl. 🥲

And then Rick walking out and taking in the image of his wife and daughter is also so heartwarming. You just know he’s looking at them in that moment and thinking about how they’re his heart and they’re what makes life so worth living. And then the way Rick asks about the grumpy face and Judith says he gets a grumpy face and big tummy, I’m smiling just thinking about how cute that was. And it’s made even more perfect when Michonne can’t help but let out her adorable laugh.

The Grimes family's moment in the field with the birds was also such a lovely visual. I love the way Judith has her hand over her mom’s as Michonne holds her and the way it shows yet again how Rick and Michonne both value giving their kids these moments to appreciate the beauty that’s left in the world.

#5: The Family Fun Day (9.03)

I feel like this one making the list of favorite Grimes Family 2.0 moments needs no explanation but of course, I still have to gush about it a little more lol. This montage was everything from beginning to end. And this scene technically includes RJ too which just makes it all even better. 😊 Along with what I’ve already shared about this scene in the Top 30, I love the way this Family Fun Day reminded me of how Judith has long been a beacon of hope for Rick and Michonne and just her presence always helped bring them to where they need to be and to who they are most meant to be.

Judith needing formula played a big part in Michonne going to the prison and meeting her future Grimes family. Wanting to find a home where Judith could live played a big part in them going to Alexandria. And after losing sons and enduring so much, Rick and Michonne were able to still remain in tune with their parental side and their playful side through raising Judith and making sure her life and their lives still included fun and joy.

And seeing the three of them get to just be solely focused on being family and playing and enjoying the day during their Family Fun Day was food for the soul. In the deleted scene on that picnic blanket, Rick basically suggests he hopes for more years spent like this and it makes sense because whenever the Grimes family are together and just getting to be present and at peace, there’s nowhere else they’d rather be and there’s nothing more I’d rather see than Grimes Family 2.0 getting to live happily.

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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biblio-smia · 8 months ago

Text

the last thing i need — three

warnings: twd content warnings

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

Glenn's absence weighed heavier on your shoulders than you'd anticipated. Occasionally, you'd look behind you and expect to find him there, eyes on you, only to find no one there. Every time you turned to look ended with a shake of your head and turning back to whatever was in front of you.

Perhaps the feeling was as outwardly obvious as it was strong, as Jacqui looked at you with pity in her warm brown eyes, inviting you to sit with the women.

They had taken a break from laundry to sit and chat, but you thought that picking up where they left off would keep your mind off of Glenn.

It didn't work very well.

You blamed one of Glenn's shirts that came up with stains that would never come out. Nevertheless, you tried, taking your time and being extra gentle with the piece of clothing. Even while he was away, Glenn got special treatment from you — and you hated it.

The mission the men departed on should've been calling your name. It did at first, at least for a little while, enticing you with an opportunity to escape the camp you found yourself on.

The desire to go vanished once Glenn revealed he would be going, too.

The brief conversation you had with Glenn weighed on your chest, a feeling too thick to swallow stuck in your throat.

You acted hastily then, overcome with an emotion you didn’t want to admit. Now it was just you and your thoughts, trying to come up with an alternate, much more reasonable explanation.

You told yourself you didn't try to join in on the mission because it'd be harder to separate from the group in the city filled with walkers. There was space to move here, space to slip off quietly if you were more careful than last time.

It wasn't because of the was your lips pulsed after meeting Glenn's cheek. It wasn't because of the way your heart pounded at the thought of him back in the city you barely escaped.

Solitude was familiar. Although it was never true, not with all the walkers you encountered, it was all you'd known for a while. You tried to keep up with it even now at this camp bustling with life, isolating yourself from the women just a few feet away — but the company was tempting.

And stubborn.

Andrea turned to wave you over, patting a spot near her. The rest of the women followed her lead with warm smiles that shone on the darkest parts of you, filling you with an unwilling joy.

You abandoned Glenn's shirt and accepted the invitation, although you were quiet for the most part — save for the little laughs the girls pulled out of you.

The five of you watched as the water glistened in the sunlight, exchanging stories and laughter as they confessed what they missed most about the old word.

"Speaking of things we miss... what's up with you and Glenn?" Andrea inquired with a grin and a bump to your shoulder. The rest of the women were silent but you could tell the question was on their mind, too — they just weren't as straightforward or bold to ask it.

"What?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed at the question. There was really no reason to, but you couldn't help but feel like the tiptoeing around your own emotions was useless if suspicion of anything between you and Glenn was this high. "No, there's nothing up with us," you shook your head.

"Really? Cause I could've sworn you went into his tent the first night you got here—" Andrea spoke, earning a few gasps and small laughs from the other women.

Oh. She meant that.

Now you were really embarrassed.

You didn't have time to form an answer as a man approached — Carol's husband. His expression was humorless as he pressed for details of your conversation, pushing your group closer and closer to discomfort and defense — namely, Andrea.

You didn't blame her for it. You didn't blame her for calling out Ed's laziness and his abuse towards Carol, the news making your eyes widen and your body move in front of Carol defensively. Your hands weren't enough to stop Ed in the commotion, not as you saw how tightly he was gripping on to Carol.

No, Ed didn't stop until he was beat to a pulp by Shane.

You could hear your heart pound and feel the anxious sweat on your palms as you and the rest of the women did your best to comfort Carol, trying to focus on helping her rather than the violence you'd just witnessed.

Ed deserved it, undoubtedly, but it did not make you any less weary of Shane. Something about the man was off-putting. Something about him made you uneasy but you couldn't figure out what. No one else seemed to pick up on anything strange, so you kept quiet and kept your distance.

But one look at Ed's face told you that maybe you'd have to look out for the living more than the dead.

A stupid part of you waited anxiously for Glenn's return, knowing his presence would ease you even if he was unaware of your caution. It was awful, this feeling — one you'd felt before, but never quite this intense. This feeling would make you stupid if you let it — part of the reason you'd wanted to abandon ship at first hint of it.

There was no time for things like romance anymore, no matter how badly you craved it. It was about survival now.

And yet, you couldn't help but remember how you felt when Glenn's hands were on you, his lips on your neck —

You shook your head. This was no time for that.

Night was beginning to creep up and Glenn still had not returned. That feeling in your throat almost made it impossible to breathe.

The night was eerie despite the soft chatter of voices and crickets, the light of a fire illuminating faces with golden warmth. You took a plate of food and sat off by yourself, taking the opportunity to gather your thoughts. All the plans you'd previously had were in shambles. No next move you thought of felt right. Your fingers tapped on your knee nervously, teeth chewing up your lip in thought.

Maybe, if you hadn’t been alone for so long, you wouldn’t have picked up on the low groans from behind you.

You stood and pulled your knife in one swift motion, plunging the blade into the walker’s head, feeling the blood splatter on you. Another walker replaced the fallen one immediately, a small hoard in pursuit, pushing you towards the others.

The others.

“Walkers!” You called, distancing yourself from the pack just enough to turn around.

But you and your familiarity with being alone were not used to fighting with others. It had been too long since you have had to fight for anyone. Your warning was too late and there was nothing you could do but watch as a walker bit Amy.

Self-preservation is what you know, your attention snapping back to the problem ahead of you just in time. You know these movements better than anything - push them back, stab the knife into their heads, just enough to hit the brain - but the walkers don't stop coming.

All you are aware of are the screams behind you, begging for your attention as your heart lurches with the urge to help families trying to find each other in the chaos that has suddenly taken over camp.

You try to focus, try to convince yourself that helping yourself is helping them, that each walker down is one less walker able to bite and infect.

Gunshots ring out from behind you, next to you, all around you as walkers take over.

“Get to the R.V! Go!” Someone shouts over the sound of the bullets.

The crowd was at least thinning out now. Your arm was tiring from the repetitive movements, but you didn’t dare stop.

Not until there was only one walker left in front of you.

Even in the dim light of the camp, you can recognize her. Your heart feels heavy in your chest and guilt clogs your throat.

What was left of your sister dragged her body towards you, mouth ready to bite.

Your arm fell limp by your side. Your breath caught in your throat. A bullet hit your sister (no, not your sister) and someone screamed. Maybe it was you.

You dropped with her, stationed on your knees as you watched your sister reach for you.

Most of her was missing and the last time you saw her flashed in your mind. She’d yelled at you not to look back at her but you couldn’t help it; Now you were left with the image of her caught in the mouths of walkers, all desperate for a bite.

She’d sacrificed herself for you to continue on. To live.

And here she was now, because you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot her back then.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your face was wet. Was it blood, sweat, or tears?

Glenn was sure he’d hit a walker with his bullet, but your scream made him doubt himself as he ran. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl cleared the rest of the hoard, but Glenn’s only worry now was you.

His footsteps slowed as he spotted you, cradling a body that hadn’t been alive in a while. Though the body had stopped moving now - Glenn noticed the knife you plunged into the back of its head.

Glenn called your name softly, kneeling on the ground to join you. His hand came to your shoulder and he could see the tears drip off your face and make silent splatters on the zombie in your arms.

“We can bury her,” Glenn said quietly. “We do that for the ones we love.”

You nodded and your face found Glenn’s chest, your arms letting go of your sister, cold and dead, and clinging on to the warm body next to you. Alive.

You couldn’t be more grateful.

The aftermath was chaos. The bodies, littered everywhere, were unnerving. The children cried and Andrea sat over her sister’s corpse all night.

You knew exactly how she felt. You made sure she knew it, too. She didn’t speak a word as you cleaned as much blood from Amy’s body as you could. Her gaze never left her sister as you cleaned her own hands.

“There,” you said. You looked back at the rest of the group watching you, some desperate to put a bullet in Amy’s brain. “You take all the time you need. Don’t let them take that from you.”

You expected the lack of response as you stood, unwavering as you stared Daryl down, watching as he shook his head and went off to keep dragging the bodies.

You didn’t speak when you heard footsteps follow you to the edge of the woods. You knew who it was, and what he was doing. You wished you could hate him for it.

“Let me help,” Glenn offered from behind you as you looked at your sister’s body. It laid exactly as you’d left it before, but the daylight revealed the horrific state she died in.

You accepted Glenn’s help wordlessly, taking her shoulders while he grabbed her feet.

“Had to fight Dixon to bury our people. I mean, he just wanted to burn them!” Glenn shook his head, eyes glancing up to yours.

He was too good. That was it. That was what you hated so much.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, no, I did. For her. For Amy, too. And everyone else back there. We still have to have some humanity, right? Or else we’re just surviving, not... not living.”

Glenn’s words rang in your mind as the two of you carried the body through the thick Georgia heat, sweat dripping down every part of you.

Living. Not just surviving.

Your sister’s last words. Her last wish. For you to live.

You looked back up at Glenn as the two of you dropped your sister in the “Bury” pile, watching as he adjusted his cap and wiped some sweat off his brow.

Live. Not just survive.

Maybe Glenn could help you figure out what that meant.

Soft chatter surrounded you as you sat off to the side, knees pulled up to your chest. You sat away from the group, as you always did, keeping an eye on the people and another on the woods.

There was talk of going to the CDC. You weren't sure how well that was going to work out if the CDC looked like the rest of the world.

But there was something in the group as they spoke to each other, even after everything that had happened today. There was hope, small sparks of it glowing like the embers of a fire.

Maybe you'd let yourself have some of it, too.

"Hey," a voice spoke, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Hey." You glanced up at Glenn, watching him run a hand through his hair, his cap in his hand.

The sun glistened off his skin, making his hair shine as he turned his head to look at you. There was a trace of a smile but an even bigger hint of a question on his lips.

You knew what the question would be. But you still weren't quite sure of your answer.

"What happened in Atlanta?" You ask, hoping to buy yourself time and realizing that everything that had happened after Glenn's returned had prevented you from asking about it sooner.

"Atlanta." Glenn repeats, the place seeming so foreign to him now. "Well, we got the guns." He laughs, sounding too forced, eyes wandering over the faces that remain. You're quiet, feeling the guilt you share heavy in the air.

"But we ran into some guys."

Your eyebrows raise at this - you don't know strangers nowadays to be particularly friendly. Glenn was rare.

"And you just handed over guns?" You didn't mean to sound accusing, but you were trying to paint out what had happened.

"Well... kind of? I mean, we worked out a deal."

"What deal?"

Glenn hesitates, trying to work the story without having to mention the more embarrassing details.

"They were taking care of a whole bunch of elderly people. They were just... abandoned."

You seem to relax at this, at least slightly. "They could've just shot you and taken everything." You're only half-serious but Glenn doesn't quite catch that.

"They really wanted to. Especially Daryl, he had-"

Glenn cuts himself off but he's already piqued your curiosity as you lean forward in your seat, urging Glenn to continue.

"Well, it was a little bit of a situation," Glenn starts exasperatedly. "They had taken one of us, we took one of theirs... It just- It happened really fast!"

"They kidnapped you?"

How bad of a liar is he? Glenn stutters but his lack of a coherent response is enough to fill in the blanks for you.

Your chest hurts strangely, your fingers messing nervously with the hard surface of your nails. You've begun to avoid looking at Glenn just as he glances at you, a heavy silence that a part of you is desperate to fill, nervous it will make Glenn stand and place his chair elsewhere.

You had been saved from answering questions from others about Glenn earlier but nothing was able to halt the constant thoughts you had about him. You're not sure how much longer you can keep running from it - you're not sure how much good it'll do.

"So, the CDC?" You asked, hoping Glenn's answer would help guide you towards one of your own.

"Rick thinks it's our best shot."

"And you trust him?" There was no mockery or accusation in your voice — only genuine curiosity.

Glenn looked down at his cap, nodding a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

"You just met him," you noted quietly, knowing very well Glenn had met both you and Rick on the same day.

"You don't need to know someone for years to know you can trust them."

You looked up to see Glenn staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't just talking about Rick.

"That type of thinking could get you killed," you say quietly.

"Or it could save my life."

Live.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you thought about it. About what going with these people would mean.

It'd mean companions, for starters. No more nights fighting to stay awake, watching your own back. It'd mean splitting supplies. It'd mean strength in numbers.

You looked at Glenn again.

It could lead to something else, too.

"I'll go with you. To the CDC," you start softly, watching from the corner of your eye as Glenn's head snapped toward you, clearly in disbelief. "It sounds promising."

You barely knew Rick. You barely knew any of these people. But Glenn trusted Rick and you trusted Glenn. That's the only thing you were sure of now.

Glenn looked at you with a boyish, handsome grin and the corners of your lips raised to mirror his.

Your hand reached for Glenn's, interlacing your fingers with his. Your hands found his over and over — throughout the night, in the morning, as you packed into Dale's R.V. and towards the CDC. As you left Jim behind. As you almost died outside of the fortified building. As you finally made it inside.

The building was large and seemed safe enough — there was no way Dr. Jenner could have made it this far if it wasn't. But it wasn't until a large table full of food and drinks was set, laughter chiming in your ears, did you finally begin to relax.

A smile spread on your own face as Carl tries wine for this first time, his face morphing into one of disgust as the rest of you laughed. This mood, light and playful, was one you haven't experienced in who knows how long. There's a thick feeling of appreciation in your throat, hot and heavy in your chest. You're almost emotional, thinking of every sacrifice it took for you to be here, today, laughing and talking over dinner again.

But Shane, always solemn, can't seem to stand the uncharacteristic liveliness that has found the group tonight.

"So, when are you going to tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" The laughter is killed instantly, an uncomfortable silence falling on the once chattering table.

'We're celebrating, Shane," Rick starts, the tension between the former best friends particularly prominent. "Don't need to do this now."

Eyes flicker between the two with an occasional flicker to the doctor in the room, but downward gazes and quiet sips of wine offered neutrality from most.

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found one man. Why?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asks dryly, suspiciously.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides." Most shuffle uncomfortably, looking at anywhere but at Jenner. "That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave," Andrea notes, one of the only ones still invested in learning about Jenner. "Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping... to do some good."

It's a good answer for most, no matter the somber tone. It's enough for you; you just hope that Shane's poking and prodding won't push the man that has seen too much too far. The last thing you want is to be kicked out now.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Shane avoids Glenn's stare and you cross your arms, decisively done for the night.

Jenner gives you a small tour of the facility, mainly of the rooms you'll be occupying. A piece of you wonders what else there is, but the majority of you aches for a peaceful night.

Jenner has disappeared into a different room and the group has stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Hot water?" Glenn glances to the rest of the group before his gaze lands on you, standing behind him.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog grins.

Glenn's smile is contagious, creeping up slowly despite you missing what Jenner said. But if Glenn is excited about it, it's got to be worth it.

The hot water on your skin completely is.

You try to savor each drop of water, relishing in the steam curling off the water. You can't remember the last time you had the luxury of hot water but you resign, letting everything roll off of you along with the water.

You scrub at your skin, mindlessly and too roughly, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Everything about the last few months.

Your sister was dead. The guilt in your throat wasn't any easier to swallow.

Something had happened between Rick and Glenn on their trip back to Atlanta. Glenn stuck out his neck for Rick on that very first day that your paths had all crossed, so Rick risked his own for Glenn. At least there was someone else in the group that would do that for him.

Atlanta. Nothing in that overriden city could've prepared you for the overwhelming company you now found yourself traveling with. There was no ounce of you that imagined you might find someone to love again.

You shut the water off once you're sure you've scrubbed every crevice of yourself, your skin rubbed raw in a few places.

The towels you've been given are rough, thin, and terrible shields against the cold air that blasts through the facility but you don't mind. Nothing matters other than the feeling of the fresh clothes Jenner has managed to scrounge up, missing all the dirt and blood that's stained your clothes for months.

A part of you, as you settle into the first empty room you see, wonders how long it'll be until the clothes you're wearing now will be bloodstained again.

You've taken to cleaning off your knife, in the spirit of the fresh scent of soap sticking to your skin and the pristine condition of the garments on your body. You're careful not to stain anything with the shades of red and brown of your knife, barely lifting your head when you hear someone enter the room you've claimed.

"Sorry, didn't think anyone was in here..."

Glenn trails off when he spots your smile, your hand waving him over to the spot next to you. He takes it, body tense as he tries to keep his eyes off of you.

Glenn thought you were perfect before, but without the layer of grime on you, all he wants to do is stare.

Glenn thinks he's being sneaky until your eyes meet his, Glenn's already flushed face reddening even more.

He's too terrified to make a move, still wondering where it is he stands with you. You're not lovers as far as he's aware, though it's a losing battle on his side. Glenn thinks he'd do anything to get inside your head and see for himself what it was you thought about him. He wanted you to like him, desperately, his body aching for contact with yours. He wanted to kiss you until he memorized you and every one of your smiles.

But he'd take whatever it is you wanted to give him. He'd hold your hand whenever you reached for it, on your own terms, right up until you pulled away.

The sudden arrival of man-eating freaks had forced Glenn, for the most part, to mature; to learn how to fight, to look out for others in ways his shitty job as a delivery boy had not yet taught him. From one day to the next, he had outgrown the red uniform that always seemed to smell of food no matter how many times it was washed. Though no one cared to ask about the person Glenn was Before, he liked to think he was the same Glenn who had, with his own will, made it through high school and to college, on his own.

But, in some ways, Glenn still felt immature. All that time he had spent working and studying had left him with little free time for personal indulgences. He had never prioritized romance and now that it was here, in front of him, he found himself on his ass more often than on his feet.

The door opens again and Glenn’s head whips towards it like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his flushed face not doing him any favors. But it’s just Shane, so Glenn’s shoulders relax, eyes glancing over the man and landing on the bottle of bourbon in his hand.

Shane spares a sideways glance, eyes stuck on you as he takes a swig from the nearly empty bottle. Glenn’s eyes follow Shane’s and eventually fall on you, too; notably, the knife in your lap, practically shining from how much you’d been wiping it.

"You're a real whiz with that knife.” Shane props himself against the doorframe, probably to keep from stumbling. There’s a sudden smile on his face, too wide to put you at ease. “Good thing I stopped ya from leaving that first night, huh?"

Shane grins through his words as he takes another swig, eyes still stuck on you as Glenn stands. He’s turned towards you, eyes searching for any indication that Shane is just drunk, or out of his mind; but you’re stuck, eyebrows drawn and lips set in a straight line as you stare at Shane right back.

Glenn steps into Shane’s line of sight, effectively breaking the wordless confrontation. Shane’s eyes move to him now, trying to slip past Shane wordlessly. Shane shifts, blocking Glenn’s way. But before he can speak, Glenn has shoved his way into the hallway.

"I'm just looking out for you, man!" Shane calls behind him before his lips find the top of the bottle again.

You’re in front of Shane before you can help it, eyes trying to follow Glenn. But just as he did before, Shane has turned toward you, his large build blocking any easy ways out.

"Why didn't you just kill me that night, then? I know you wanted to."

"That's not true.” There’s a grin on Shane’s face that tells you he’s lying.

"Yeah."

The look of amusement on Shane’s face drops. He has learned from last time and fights back when you try to push past him. One of his hands keeps you pinned to the doorframe, pressing painfully on your shoulder.

“You’re just another mouth to feed,” Shane drawls, his breath reeking of alcohol. “You don’t deserve a guy like Glenn.”

There was more to it, you were sure. Glenn had told you that Shane was their leader and wasn’t fond of newcomers. Especially when one wanted his wife and kid back.

You could tell Shane felt challenged by Rick despite their history. Maybe Shane thought of you as a wildcard, neither loyal to him nor Rick. But if you would stick with Glenn, who would clearly follow Rick anywhere, weren’t you a threat?

You pushed Shane’s arm forcefully, the alcohol in his bottle swishing as he stumbles.

“You should’ve killed me,” you say, smiling suddenly. “You’re not getting another chance.”

Glenn moves down the hallway briskly, his feet taking him further and further away from you. There’s that feeling in your chest again, the same one you felt with Glenn back at the camp you had abandoned. It was fear, but it wasn’t the familiar kind that you’d spent months fighting along with the walkers. This one was thicker, heavier, putting a pressure on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Unfortunately, you had come to care about Glenn Rhee.

And as Glenn walks away, he feels as though he has, once again, found himself on his ass.

#glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x you #glenn rhee fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #glenn rhee imagine #the walking dead x you #glenn rhee fluff #glenn rhee smut #v + glenn #v writes

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emeryhiro · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!

I am new here and is feeling very overwhelmed right now with that is happening in the caryl fandom. I appreciate your insight into these characters. I am someone who has not seen Daryl Dixon season 1 and is seriously considering if I should even watch it with all that is being said about s2.

Reading all the early reviews that has dropped - I get a lot of mixed reactions to Isabelle's character. Some ppl say she was the best part about season 1 while others don't even mention here in their reviews. The caryl fandom is largely, understandably, biased against her.

I do not know anything about Isabelle and was wondering what your thoughts about her are - how she holds up as a character?

Hi Anon!!

Thank you for your question. I'm really glad you asked this question, and thank you for the kind words🥰 I'm going to do my best to properly answer and share my thoughts on all the points you've mentioned.

Firstly, welcome to the fandom!! 💖 I'm sorry you've joined at a time of so much uncertainty, but I promise that at its core, this community is a beautiful place to be. But like all communities, there is always positivity and negativity, and it's important to be careful with what's surrounding you, ensuring it's a healthy balance that works for you.

I've divided my response into several sections, as I find that to be the best way to convey my thoughts. I also wanted to be as clear as possible since this is a sensitive topic for some, and I want to try to alleviate at least some of the worries.

A mild spoiler warning for a mention of something that happens in episode 1 of season 2.

Reviews on Season 2:

I wasn't planning on reading any of the reviews for season 2, but since you asked for my thoughts, I read all the articles that I could find so that I could give you an informed response. And one thing I advise is to always take reviews with a grain of salt (this includes my thoughts as well) because, ultimately, they're all based on the writers' opinions.

What I've found with all previous seasons of TWD, especially season 1 of Daryl Dixon, was that no single review I read aligned perfectly with what I thought of the show once I watched it myself. And I know I'll say the same about season 2.

Regarding what I read in the season 2 reviews, I don't think I've actually read a single concerning line in any of the ones I've come across, and I'm pretty sure I've read every single one that has been released. There are, however, a lot of people who, out of fear or concern, focus on single lines from a review that may sound negative or worrisome when taken out of context, and ignore everything else in the review that's purely positive.

I can see many people have shared their specific thoughts on different segments of several reviews, but I won't go into my thoughts here for the sake of keeping this response reasonable short. If you're interested in a detailed post about my thoughts on the reviews in general or any in particular, let me know, and I'll share it as soon as I get a chance.

My thoughts on Isabelle:

I found Isabelle to be a fascinating character with many layers. She is unquestionably flawed and has a great mix of both positive and negative characteristics, which I think is what gives her character so much potential. She's intelligent, driven, brave, headstrong, and very protective, but she's also undeniably manipulative, which makes sense when you think of it as a self-defence mechanism that she developed during her rocky life before the apocalypse. I'm also a fan of Clémence as an actress, and I think she's a great fit for this character.

This next bit might sound a bit contrevoursial but bare with me. I've seen Isabelle get a lot of hate for being manipulative towards Daryl, even I personally hated seeing Daryl be treated that way, but it's important to remember that we've also seen Carol behave manipulatively when she's had to in the past in order to protect the people that she loves. This is something you'll see Carol do once again in episode 1 of TBOC, and when I watched it, it made me uncomfortable, but ultimetly, I could see that it made Carol uncomfortable as well; she doesn't feel any satisfaction out of what she does and is willing to carry the weight of that lie and guilt to achieve her ultimate goal of saving Daryl, the person she loves.

Even though, on the surface, it's not an admirable thing to do, we appreciate Carol so much more because of the lengths she's willing to go to for the ones she loves, and we've also seen her journey to this point, which naturally makes us love her and empathise with her.

So my point here is that I can't judge Isabelle for the same behaviour I admire in my favourite character. Just like Carol may act that way to protect Daryl (her loved one), Isabelle was doing it because she believed (to the best of her knowledge) that it was what was best for Laurent (her loved one).

However, what doesn't sit right with me about Isabelle's character is that what the showrunners and writers have been saying about her doesn't align with what I've seen on screen (this is a great example of why I try to avoid looking at unnecessary publicity). I want to love her character for who she is, flaws and all, but the inconsistency in her publicity makes me feel like there's some discrepancy behind the scenes, and that has stopped me from investing in her character and gives me slight concern for the trajectory of her arc, which has so much potential that would be incredibly tragic if wasted.

The only other thing that I would disagree with (IF the show ends up going down that path) is the negative messaging that would be given out about nuns if every surviving nun on the show is portrayed as willing to forget her vows the minute there's a man in front of them that they find interesting. I'm not catholic, but I think that it would be incredibly disrespectful towards actual nuns and the sacrifices that they make for their faith. But please don't take this as fact because I don't think this will actually ever happen. I honestly don't believe that AMC or anyone involved with the show would knowingly do something like that. I'd be happy to explain this a little further, but I don't think it's relevant if you haven't seen the first seasons.

Watching TWD: Daryl Dixon S1 & 2

My question to you would be, what draws you to TWD/TBOC? Is it Caryl itself and potential canon? And if so, do you feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2? Or, do you enjoy the show for a combination of things, like the character development, world-building, cinematography, etc.?

I want to emphasise that there is no wrong answer to the above. Everyone is unique, and it's 1000% understandable and fair for each person to have unique reasons for being drawn to and loving, hating, or even being indifferent about a show.

I personally fall in the latter category; I love TWD for its rich story, action sequences, cinematography, multitude of interesting characters, and the mind-blowing ways in which they have developed over the years (the whole package of the show is exactly my cup of tea), and of course, it's no secret if anyone looks at my blog that my favourite character (BY FAR) are Carol and Daryl. I absolutely adore them for everything they are, both as individuals and what they bring out in each other and mean to each other. And if Caryl is ever canon (which I expect would happen in season 3), then that would be the cherry on top of a show I already love.

My very short review of season 1 would be that I really enjoyed it and would rank it at the top between all the other spinoff seasons we've gotten so far. However, in all honesty, I still felt and noticed the hole that was left behind in the story with the absence of Carol, but knowing that she will be returning in season 2 kind of made up for that lack in season 1. All up, I really enjoyed season 1 and have watched it several times in the last year. I'm actually currently in the middle of watching it again in preparation for season 2.

My recommendations:

If you personally fall into the former category and, as mentioned above, feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2, then perhaps it's better to wait till all the episodes are released to then decide if it's something that you'd like to watch.

If you're willing to accept and are okay with the potential lack of romance between Caryl in season 2 but are concerned about and would rather not watch any potential romantic relationship develop between Daryl and Isabelle, then I'd say that you should watch the season as it releases because I honestly don't believe that something like that is a real possibility. At most, there may be hints towards one-sided feelings from Isabelle's side and maybe some confusion from Daryl's side, but untimely, it would not mean or go anywhere. I'm personally not even bothered with this worst-case scenario because it doesn't matter how many people have feelings for Daryl or how confused Daryl is because I know that once he's reunited with Carol, there won't be any more uncertainty about where his heart and loyalties truly lie. There's honestly not a single ounce of me that's concerned about this.

If you're more like me and enjoy the show as a whole, even though you may be slightly disappointed with a few accepts, then I'd highly recommend that you watch season 1 before the release of season 2 (if you have the time), because it genuinely was a good season and will give you a lot of backstory and context that would make season 2 feel so much more enjoyable and immersive.

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Thanks again for your questions!! I hope this all makes sense and that it answers your questions. As I mentioned earlier, if you'd like me to expand on my thoughts on anything in particular, please let me know, and I'd be happy to do so.

My last bit of advice is this: I know it's easier said than done, but I urge you, especially as someone who's new to the fandom, to not allow a lot of different voices and opinions to shape how you naturally feel or invalidate what you take away from watching the show (not that I think that's what you're doing but this is the general advice I wanted to give just in case🩵). It's really easy for anyone to be influenced by negativity and positivity when they find that that's all they can see from the people around them.

I personally try to focus on what I see on screen and what I hear directly from Norman and Melissa because, at the end of the day, showrunners and writers come and go, but Norman and Melissa have embodied these characters from day one and understand them more than anyone else ever could.

♡♡♡

#daryl dixon #carol peletier #the walking dead #caryl #twd #the book of carol #caryl positivity #twd spoilers #spoilers

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