#but rick is an old man so it checks out

[conanssummerchild]

ok so like i know that technically in canon rick's full name is richard, but in my heart it's ricardo and there's nothing anyone can do abt it

[tempobaekh]

A Love (Not) Torn Apart

pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader (takes place in alexandria)

warnings: not much, fluff, crack, alcohol consumption, some shouting, maybe ooc daryl? the images at the top DO NOT indicate any physical appearance of the reader

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write something for this fine ass man for a while but I’ve been having a major writer block and busy with my junior hairdresser exam BUT i stumbled upon this post by @angelwings-crossbowstrings and i just had to turn it into a story. also i’ve been binge reading and rereading all of @dixons-sunshine works. she’s an amazing writing with enjoyable writing and also gave me some motivation to write something🤍 anyways this had me laughing at work and trying to write in-between customers💀

The sun had long dipped behind the walls of Alexandria, and the sky was an inky black, littered with stars.

You barely remember how it started. One minute, you were lounging on the couch, minding your own business and chatting with Carol after a particularly tough day in Alexandria. The next? Well, you were plastered—thanks to the moonshine Carol stashed away "for special occasions." She called this a special occasion because she was "bored," and apparently boredom justified cracking open a bottle. You didn’t argue. Why would you? It had been a rough week.

You should’ve known better. You’re not much of a drinker.

You have always had a low alcohol tolerance. When you got drunk, you would often do the most stupidly odd things.

Like the day you got shitfaced drunk and told Rick you could outshoot him blindfolded, almost shooting the man in the damn head. Or the day you insisted Daryl hand over your marriage papers so you could set it ablaze, saying, quote, 'Good luck returning me without the fucking receipt, Dixon!' Before collapsing into his embrace.

However, following Rick's incident, there was always a 10-foot radius check for weapons if you and a drink were present.

Now, you’re sitting in the middle of the living room floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Your hair is a wild mess—like, wilder than usual—and your hand clutches an old, tattered Polaroid picture of Daryl’s wife.

Except... you are Daryl’s wife.

 It was an old, weathered picture of you and Daryl taken back when things weren’t so apocalyptic. You looked happy in it—probably because there wasn’t a horde of walkers trying to eat you at the time. Your arm was looped around Daryl’s waist, and he had that rare, soft smile on his face. It was a picture you loved.

Right now, though? You hated it.

"She’s so pretty!" you wail, voice wobbling dramatically, holding up the photo to no one in particular. “How did he end up with someone so gorgeous?” Your head lolls back as you take another swig from the bottle of moonshine in your hand. “I’m never gonna be as good as her!"

Across the room, Carol watches from her seat with a mixture of amusement and concern, sipping from her own glass. She’s been trying to calm you down, but her efforts haven’t been successful. At this point, she’s just waiting for the storm to pass. Rick, however, looking for Daryl, steps through the door right at the pinnacle of your emotional breakdown.

“Carol,” Rick begins, eyeing your tear-streaked face and the empty bottle in your hand. “Why is Y/N cryin’?”

“She’s drunk,” Carol responds, deadpan, like that explains everything. Which, in all fairness, it kind of does.

Rick looks at you, then back at Carol, eyebrows raised. “And?”

Carol lets out a long breath, like she’s explained this one too many times. “She saw a picture of Daryl’s wife.”

Rick frowns in confusion, scratching the back of his head. "But… she is Daryl’s wife."

“I know,” Carol deadpans.

Rick shoots her an incredulous look. “She don’t realize that’s her?”

Carol just shrugs. "You ever try reasoning with a drunk person?"

Rick’s eyes narrow slightly as he processes the absurdity of the situation. “Where’s Daryl?”

Carol shakes her head, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “She kicked him out for cheatin’. He’s in the garage, waitin’ it out."

Rick looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he just shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh and decides to approach you instead, “Y/N?”

You hear Rick’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. 

Rick’s footsteps draw closer, and you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He’s frowning, his brows pulling together in confusion. That’s the look. The ‘what the hell is going on’ look. You’ve seen it plenty of times before. He squats down in front of you, hands resting on his knees as he assesses the situation.

Your face screws up again, tears welling as you shove the bottle toward Rick in a grand gesture of misery. “He’s cheating on me!”

Rick recoils slightly, probably because your breath smells like a distillery at this point. “Uh... what?”

“He’s cheating!” you repeat, throwing your arms wide like this should be obvious to everyone around you. You wave the photo in the air dramatically, like you were presenting your case to the high court. “With some—some woman!”

Rick looks at Carol again, completely confused by how your drunken brain came up with this. Carol just shrugs, but there's a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth like she’s fighting a smile.

“Okay... slow down,” Rick says cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s good with walkers, not so good with drunk people. Especially drunk people who are screaming about imaginary affairs. “Who’s he cheating with?”

You look around conspiratorially before leaning in like you’re about to spill the world’s most scandalous secret. “His wife,” you whisper dramatically, as if that explains everything.

Rick’s brow furrows again. “But... you’re his wife.”

You nod enthusiastically, your head wobbling a little. “Exactly! He’s cheating on me with me!” You hiccup, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. The bottle dangles dangerously from your other hand. 

 You knew this day would come. It’s just like you always feared—Daryl’s finally realized he deserves better. Someone prettier, smarter, and far less dramatic than you. You’re sure of it. You pull the Polaroid close to your face and squint at it.

"Look at her," you sniffle, voice thick with drunken emotion. “Look at how flawless she is. He’s probably out there with her right now!" 

Rick and Carol share a look, clearly unsure of how to handle this. Carol steps forward, cautiously approaching you like you’re a wild animal. “Y/N,” she says softly, “honey, that’s… that’s a picture of you.”

You blink, turning the photo back toward you and studying it intensely, your brows furrowing in concentration. “What?”

“That’s you in the picture,” Carol repeats gently, trying not to laugh.

You frown deeply, staring at the woman in the photo. “No, it’s not!” you argue, shaking your head as if they’ve lost their minds. “I don’t look like this—she’s so beautiful!” You lean forward, grabbing Carol by the arm, eyes wide with desperation. “Carol, how could he do this to me?”

Carol struggles to keep her composure. “He didn’t do anything to you, Y/N. You’re drunk.”

You collapse back on the carpeted floor, letting out a fresh wave of sobs. “I’m gonna divorce him! And then—and then—he’ll regret it!” The words come out in a slurred mess, your anger morphing back into sadness almost instantly. “He doesn’t even care! I kicked him out and everything.”

Rick pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing like he’s aged a hundred years in the last five minutes. He turns to Carol. “Okay. Where did you say Daryl was?”

You choose to answer instead before Carol can speak. “Who cares?! He’s probably with her right now!” You hiccup again, and then your face scrunches up as if you’re about to cry harder. “I’m his wife, Rick! And he’s out there... with her! She’s... she’s prettier than me!”

Carol lets out a bark of laughter at that, and even Rick cracks a smile despite himself. “Y/N, you are his wife.”

“I know!” you sob, throwing your head back in despair. “It’s awful!”

Rick lets out another long-suffering sigh. “Alright. I’m gonna go find Daryl.”

“He’s in the garage.” Carol mutters, and decides to console your hysterical self for the tenth time while Rick brings in Daryl.

“He’s gonna have to crawl back to me on his knees.”

Carol pats your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure he will.”

You sniffle, nodding. “He’s just…he’s a man. They do dumb things sometimes.”

Carol tries to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth twitch. “Right. Exactly.”

After what seems like hours but is really just a few minutes, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing, with Daryl and Rick returning inside. 

Carol managed to peel the bottle of moonshine from between your fingers and pull you over to the couch, so you're now slumped over on the couch with the bottle somewhere in the kitchen. Your eyes narrow when you see him, but you’re too tired—and too drunk—to get up.

When Carol sees Daryl and Rick arrive, she gives Daryl a nod and decides to call it a night, returning home and leaving you to Daryl. Rick also says a quick goodbye to Daryl before leaving you two to be.

“I’m still mad at you,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away.

Daryl crouches down infront of you, resting his arms on his knees. “I know.”

“I’m divorcing you.”

Daryl smirks, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re not divorcin’ me.”

“Am too.”

“Nope.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and lean into his shoulder, tucking your face in his neck, too exhausted to fight anymore. “I hate that picture.”

Daryl chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he pulls you to your feet. “Yeah, well, I ain’t too fond of it myself right’ now.” He helps you inside, your steps wobbly as you lean against him, your anger slowly dissolving into sleepy acceptance.

“I was just... so mad,” you mumble, your voice slurred as you nuzzle against his chest. “Didn’t mean to kick you out.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Daryl murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Still... divorcing you tomorrow.”

Daryl just shakes his head with a smile as he helps you up the stairs. “Sure you are, darlin’. Sure you are.”

Daryl walks you towards the bedroom with the patience of a saint, keeping an arm securely wrapped around your waist as your legs wobble like a newborn fawn. You’re still grumbling under your breath, your words slurred and barely coherent, but your determination to maintain your fury has not wavered. Not entirely.

“You didn’t even say sorry,” you mumble, leaning heavily against him as you stumble over the threshold. “Should make you sleep outside again.”

Daryl chuckles softly, his grip tightening just enough to keep you from tripping over the rug. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to apologize first thing in the mornin’, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.”

“Nooo,” you protest, your feet dragging with exaggerated effort. “You gotta... gotta say it now. Or—divorce.” Your head wobbles dangerously as you point a finger at his chest, your attempt to look stern falling completely flat.

Daryl shakes his head with an amused smirk, scooping you up in his arms in one swift motion. “Ain’t divorcin’ me if you’re too drunk to remember how.”

You give a half-hearted squawk of protest, but the sound dissolves into a giggle as he carries you upstairs. “I can remember!” you declare, though you’re already nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the warmth of him seeping through your foggy brain. “Daryl Dixon... divorced... for bein’ a big, dumb... dumbass.”

He reaches the bedroom and gently deposits you on the bed. You flop back like a rag doll, limbs splayed out as if you’ve completely given up on the world. “That’s a real solid case you got there,” Daryl mutters, shaking his head in amusement as he reaches down to tug off your boots.

You wiggle your toes when your feet are freed, watching him with a lazy, half-lidded gaze. “Yup. Real solid,” you repeat, mimicking his accent with a sloppy grin. “I’m real smart, you know. Like... a genius.”

Daryl pulls a face like he’s seriously contemplating this. “A genius, huh?”

“Yup,” you confirm, clearly proud of yourself. “Genius. That’s why I’m divorcin’ you. ’Cause... geniuses don’t put up with cheaters.”

He snorts and moves to grab a glass of water from the bedside table, holding it out to you. “Here. Drink.”

You take the glass but make no move to actually drink from it, instead eyeing Daryl suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“It’s water.”

“Water?” You narrow your eyes like he’s trying to trick you. “What for?”

“To sober you up,” Daryl explains, deadpan. “So you can remember all this nonsense tomorrow.”

You stick out your lower lip in a pout but finally lift the glass to your lips, taking a tentative sip. You immediately make a face like it’s the most offensive thing you’ve ever tasted, pushing the glass back at him. “I don’t like it.”

Daryl chuckles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes the glass and sets it back on the table. “Ain’t supposed to like it. It’s just water.”

“Doesn’t taste like moonshine,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as if this is some great injustice.

“Yeah, well, you ain’t gettin’ any more moonshine tonight,” Daryl says, his voice low and teasing as he crouches down to pull the covers over you. “Now, settle down.”

You huff, wriggling around as you try to find a comfortable position. “Still mad,” you mumble, though your words are getting softer, your body succumbing to the overwhelming need for sleep. “Divorce papers... in the mornin’.”

Daryl lets out a soft chuckle, lying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. “Sure thing, darlin’. I’ll be waitin’ for ‘em.”

You curl up against him, burying your face in his chest with a content sigh despite your earlier threats. “Better be sorry,” you mumble one last time, already drifting off into a heavy, alcohol-induced sleep.

“Real sorry,” Daryl mutters, his lips brushing against your hair. “Real sorry for marryin’ such a stubborn little thing.”

The next morning hits like a freight train.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the sunlight streaming through the window feels like it’s stabbing directly into your skull. With a groan, you roll over and immediately regret it. Your head throbs, your mouth is drier than the Sahara desert, and your entire body feels like it’s been dragged through a pit of walkers. Twice.

“Oh my God,” you croak, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Never drinking again. Ever.”

From beside you, Daryl lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

You crack one eye open, glaring at him through the blinding light. “I’m serious.”

“Mhm.” He’s sitting up on his elbow, watching you with an infuriating smirk. “You said the same thing last time you drank, too. After you told Rick you could outshoot him blindfolded.”

You groan again, dragging a pillow over your face. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid last night.”

“Oh, nothin’ too stupid,” Daryl says casually, but you can hear the laughter in his voice. “Just threatened to divorce me. You know, normal stuff.”

You freeze under the pillow, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. Slowly, you pull the pillow down just enough to peek out at him. “...What?”

“Yup,” Daryl confirms with a smug grin. “Kicked me out of the house for ‘cheatin’ on you’ with yourself.”

You groan again, throwing the pillow at his face with all the energy you can muster. “Oh my God, shut up.”

He catches the pillow easily, laughing as he sets it aside. “Ain’t lettin’ you live that one down, sweetheart.”

You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Daryl says with a pop of the ‘p,’ clearly enjoying your misery. “Carol and Rick were real concerned. Thought they’d have to draw up them divorce papers right then and there.”

You peek out from between your fingers, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate you.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead with that same infuriating smirk. “Love you too.”

You try to scowl at him, but it’s hard to stay mad when he’s looking at you like that. Still, you groan and roll over, burying your face in the pillow again. “I’m never drinking again,” you mutter into the fabric.

Daryl chuckles, lying back down beside you and pulling you into his arms. “Sure you aren’t, darlin’. Sure you aren’t.”

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[domesticgoddess22]

banana creampie

a thanksgiving one shot

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Your dad is hosting Thanksgiving this year, and he's invited his closest friends, including Joel Miller, who drives you to get ingredients for your famous banana cream pie. warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), car sex, unprotected piv, daddy kink, breeding kink, cowgirl, rough sex, creampie, daddy issues, TLOU AU no outbreak, dubcon, praise kink word count: 3.3k rating: explicit MDNI

Happy Holidays <3 This is a little something I cooked up on Thanksgiving day, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry it isn't edited yet.

**update: I completely forgot to mention that I got a lot of inspiration from a scene in Macfrog's cowboy like me, when MC and Joel go to the grocery store.

~~~~~~~~

Rays of orange spilled across the living room carpet, the sun peeking through the curtains that ebbed and flowed to the cool Austin breeze. The slivers of the light that dotted the couch warmed your bare legs, still shining from the lotion you lathered yourself up with. You turned the TV volume to blasting to overpower the chaotic sounds of your dad’s cooking. 

“You gonna get dressed and help your old man out here, kiddo?” Your dad’s head poked out from around the archway that led to the kitchen, a greasy spatula in hand and your brow furrowed at the drips that now splattered on the white tile.

“I am dressed,” you contested, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You just came back from college, celebrated your twenty-second birthday even, but your dad would always see you as a kid.

He frowned, eyes closing as he shook his head in disapproval before dipping back into the kitchen. It would take some getting used to, your new attire since coming back from NYU, that is. If there’s one thing your fashion degree taught you, it’s how to dress. You wore a juniper green corset top, laced up from the front and tied together to display your breasts nicely. The top was fashioned with a black, skin tight mini skirt with a slit along the right thigh, leaving little to the imagination.

You groaned, rolling off the couch lazily, but careful enough not to ruin your hair. Big, glossy curls cascaded down your back, bouncing slightly as you stood. There was a bow as red as wine that held your hair together in a half updo, so any cream from the pie you were about to make wouldn’t splash into your hair.

You dragged your feet to the kitchen, cracking open the pantry and digging for the ingredients to make your famous banana cream pie. 

“So whose all comin’ again?” You asked, eyeing the recipe to determine if you should still double the portions. You knew your dad’s friends were comin’, they always did, but you figured you’d check and make sure there wasn’t any changes.

“Donna and Rick, Keith, Rob,” your dad began listing off his friends, cursing when a splash of sausage grease sprayed his arm. “Oh yeah, and Joel and Sarah are comin’.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh?” You tried to come off casual, like your heart wasn’t about to burst in your chest at the sound of your dad’s best friend–the hottest guy on the block. “Thought they were goin’ to Tommy’s this year?” 

“They were, but Tommy and Maria are sick, so there’s been a change of plans,” your dad said, oblivious to how Joel’s name reddened your cheeks.

“That okay?” Your dad finally asked when you didn’t say anything.

“‘Course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I guess I forgot to tell ya with all the holiday craziness, it must of slipped my mind. Do you have enough ingredients to make your little tart?”

“Pie,” you corrected. “It’s a banana cream pie, dad.” You chewed your cheek, annoyed with his inability to pay any attention to you.

“Right, of course, of course. Do you have everything you need?” He’s half focused on checking the turkey now, the oven door screeching at the hinges as he stabs a thermometer into the near-browning meat.

“Actually, I’m gonna need more cream if I double this recipe.” You frowned, thinking about how you’d need to run to the store on Thanksgiving day and fight traffic and long lines. Not to mention, you haven’t gotten your license yet, there was no need for it in New York with all the subways and taxi cabs. 

“Call Joel ‘n ask him to be a doll and pick some up for you ‘fore he gets here.”

You slipped back into the living room, away from the hiss of sausages cooking, and flipped your phone open. Joel picked up, the sound of his rumbly voice left you forgetting what it was you called for in the first place.

“Hey, darlin’. What do you need?”

“Hey. Was just wonderin’ if you could be a doll and pick up some heavy cream for me before you get here?”

You heard him laugh through his nose. “On Thanksgiving Day?” 

“The stores are open for a half-day,” you said flatly. “But I guess if you don’t want my famous banana cream pie, then don’t bother.” There was a sweet, playful lilt to your tone at the latter, but their was a shuffling sound followed by a car door slamming.

You heard the sound of the front door crank open, as old and rusty as it was, and your head whipped around to see the very man you were on the phone with. He held a case of bears in his other hand. The two of you mirrored each other, flipping your phones shut.

“Look who decided to come back from New York.” Maybe it was wishful thinking or ovulation that was playing tricks on your mind, but you swore that his eyes clung to your hips, your breasts. 

“For now.” You said, ending the conversation right then and there. You didn’t want to entertain questions about what direction your career was going in and all that bullshit that you didn’t have answers to. “So I take it you’re not gettin’ cream then?”

“Didn’t say that. 'Course I want your pie.” He smirked at you right as Sarah came flying in, a giant sack of potatoes in her hand. She nearly jumped out of her boots when she saw you, screaming your name in excitement.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” Sarah dropped the potatoes on the floor with a thump, rushing to hug you. Your arms tightened around her, breathing in the sweet, citrusy scent of her curls.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! And you’ve gotten so big!” It was true. Last time you saw Sarah was probably a year ago. She had just started middle school, but now she was almost as tall as you. “What, did ya hit a growth spurt or something?!” She beamed at you proudly.

“I’m 5’1” now!”

“Where’s your dad?” Joel asked.

“Kitchen. Makin’ a mess, cooking up a storm.”

“Hey bud,” you hear Joel say casually to your dad. And then you hear him say that he’s going to take you to the store, ordering Sarah to get started on the potatoes while the two of you run out. You feel your face go hot and your palms all sweaty at the thought of being alone with Joel. The two of you have never been alone before.

You rush to the side table, dotting your lips with a subtle, pink gloss. Joel strides back into the living room.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“It takes two people to go pick up some cream?” You taunt, and not quite sure why you do. Your heart was soaring at just the thought of being alone with him, and maybe it was because of that you put on the facade. The mask that you didn’t want to, just so he didn’t somehow find out that you were dying to be around him. 

“Did New York teach you to be this sassy? I liked it better when you were just Texas sassy.” He smirked, grabbing his keys and motioning for you to follow him to the front of the house to his truck parked in the driveway. Still the same old chevy. Still the same old Joel. 

“Aww, are you sayin’ you missed me?” You liked keeping up with his playful, teasing banter.

“We all did.” There was a sweet look in those big brown eyes that, for the first time, locked on yours. “Didn’t think you were gonna come back to this old town.”

“Yeah, I’m still figuring things out I guess. New York… wasn’t everything I had imagined it would be.” The thought seeped in and you felt the pang of disappointment. 

“You’re young. You have plenty of chances to try things, fuck up, and then try som’ new.” 

The engine roars to life, and you realize then that you were freezing. But it was too late to change now, Joel was already halfway down the block by the time you really gave it some thought.

“Those flimsy pieces of fabric not keepin’ you warm?” He gave you a quick side glance. He sounded like a scolding father with the way he said it. Not the same judgement as your dad, but of a similar breath, as if to say ‘I told you you shouldn’t have worn that in this weather.’ 

“I’m fine,” you scowled, but Joel must not have believed you as he cranked up the heater. 

“I have a sweatshirt in the back, you can wear that when we get out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the back of the cab, and then gave you another side glance, this time his eyes were on your thighs. “I know I ain’t your dad but–”

“No, you’re not.”

“You wear som’ like that, on a day like today, Kieth is gonna get drunk and his eyes’ll be all over you,” his face scrunched in disgust.

“I can handle Kieth,” you snorted. Kieth was your dad’s other friend, one that has been blatantly lusting after you every time you’ve come to visit. Your dad never seemed to notice, but it seemed like Joel had.

“Or…” You teased, lips pulling into a cat-like smile. “I can just let him look at me, if he wants to. He’s a decent looking guy, could probably use a little fun since he’s been divorced for what, two years now? Three?” In all honesty, if Kieth hadn’t been standing next to Joel every time he came around, you’d probably think he was the hottest guy on the block.

Joel’s grip around the steering wheel tightened. “You like him?”

“I dunno. I’m young, I don’t know what I want. I have plenty of time to fuck up.”

“My advice to you? Don’t fuck up with Keith. Guy’s a fuckin’ mess. And your dad would probably kill him.”

Your head slams back against the headrest and you let out a roaring laugh. “My dad wouldn’t even notice.” 

“He would.”

“Well, then who should I fuck up with then?”

“That’s for you to decide, darlin’.” Joel’s voice was low, his sweet Texan tang like music to your ears.

“But not really because you said I can’t have Keith, so who does that leave me with? You?” You bit your lip and smiled while Joel continued to look straight ahead at the open road. “I guess it’s only fair. It’s only been three years since Kieth’s divorce, but it’s been nearly a decade for you.”

It was quiet for a minute, and you worried that you pushed to far. Flirted to hard. You waited for him to scold you, say something and make you feel ashamed for your advances and commenting on his failed marriage.

“You’re gonna piss off your old man, sleepin’ with all his friends,” Joel finally said, and it was that comment that gave you the opening to press forward. Joel put the car in park when you pulled up to the country market, the lot nearly empty. Not quite as a packed as you thought it’d be. 

“Not all of them.” Your gaze bore down at his lap and then slowly, slowly let your eyes roam up his chest until you met his, lookin up at his through thick lashes, biting your lip. “Just one.”

He shifted in his seat, cracking open the chevy door. “Let’s get your cream.”

You wore Joel’s sweatshirt, just like he told you to. It smelled like him, a musky, woody scent that made your pulse quicken with each inhale. He trailed behind you as you all but skipped down the aisles, heading straight for the cream. You grabbed another set of bananas too, just in case you needed to top off the pie. Joel was eerily silent the entire time, and you hoped it was because he was horny, not becuase he was mad. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. You smiled devilishly at the thought.

When you dropped the bananas and cream on the belt, you pulled out a few bucks to pay for it all, but Joel’s wallet was already out, handing the cashier a few bills. “Hey, I was gonna pay for it.”

The cashier, a kind old woman, bless her soul, just smiled at the two of you. “Let daddy pay.” Your face dropped and Joel stiffened, grabbing the receipt and storming out. You tail after him, but his footsteps eat the ground, and you’re practically running to keep up.

“Woah, woah, woah! Slowdown their cowboy, I’m not used to running this much.” 

He flung the door open, jumped in the truck and took a long, deep breath. He was silent again. Joel was always a man of few words, and you always wondered what he was thinking. There were times over summer break–when you’d come back to visit, wearing nothing but a string bikini while you splashed around in his pool–you wondered if he thought of you. 

“Is everything okay?” You tore his sweatshirt off, feeling the heat build up on your skin now that something was amiss with Joel.

Joel groaned quietly, letting his elbow rest on the side door and burying his eyes in his left palm. 

“You’re so young. We shouldn’t be… shouldn’t be talkin’ like this. It ain’t right.”

“I thought we were just havin’ fun.” You said, eyebrows stitching inward at the fear of rejection.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fun.”

“Then what’s the problem?” An innocent question, and then your eyes trailed back down to his pants and it was then that you realized you didn’t need an answer.

“Seeing you, prancing around in your little fuckin’ skirt and your shirt that barely covers your tits… fuck. I–that’s part of why I gave you my sweatshirt. So I didn’t have to look at you and torture myself anymore.” He starts, slowly turning his gaze to look at you. “But it didn’t make a difference. You… are so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t hide my desire. Can’t go back to your dad’s like this.” He buried his face in his palm again, wishing away his erection. 

Wetness pooled between your thighs at his confession. You felt your mouth water as you eyed the length of him through his jean, a pulsing throbbing mass that you’d give anything to have a taste of.

“Then let’s not go back like that.”

He turned back to you, slowly. You exchanged a look of mutual agreement, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you slid a leg over him and perched yourself on his lap, straddling him. Feeling the heat of him through the fabric of your panties. He rolled the sit back slowly, and then ground his hips against yours, his mouth hot on your neck, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin. The hair of his beard scraped against your chest and shoulder, but you didn’t care. 

“Baby…” he whispered into your ear, hands groping your mounds, thumbing the sensitive peaks. And then his mouth was back to sucking your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips as he did so. He slid his hand up your shirt, his calloused palm flush against your bare skin. His body heat warmed you in the cold november air.

Your moans became louder and more frequent with every fondling stroke of his hands on your breasts, your hips, and your ass. The wetness of his tongue against your neck. You cried out his name, begging, pleading him for more as your ground your hips on his lap. He groaned in approval.

“This what you want?” He asked, teasinglly pulling your pants to the side and letting his finger feel the wetness there before pulling away. 

“Yes, yes, please, please, please.”

And then he let his fingers slide along your clit before rubbing in a smooth, circular motion. “Fuck, you’re wet…” 

You moaned and begged him to continue, and your sweet cries left him thirsty for your lips. His mouth locked onto yours, tongue exploring you without any reservation. He kissed you roughly, like you belonged to him, and when you moaned at his touch between your legs, the rumbling growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest poured into your mouth. You cried out, spreading your legs as far as you could in the driver’s seat and let yourself fall into the white hot release, body convulsing as he rubbed you through your high. 

As you came too, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. His cock was out not even a second later, the massive, swollen head slick with precum. He was huge, both in girth and length, and you almost shied away. Worried he wouldn’t fit. But he didn’t give you time to turn back as he lifted your hips from his lap, lined up at your entrance, and then forced you down on him in one long stroke. 

“Good girl,” he said into your ear.

You screamed, biting his shoulder to hold back any other screams that might tear from your lungs and give you both away. Your hips moved on their own accord, bouncing on his cock, bigger than any dildo you’d ever used. 

“Joel… fuck me! Please, please!”

His hips bucked up, slammed into you, somehow deeper with every thrust. He growled, eyes trained on your bouncing breasts that are now exposed, the corset snug underneath them, propping them up for his pleasure. His hands found a spot on your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise. 

He slammed into you, filling you to the brim in violent thrusts. You continued to bounce, your movements matching his but his stamina outmatched yours and you let him use your body for his pleasure. He fucked you, the truck bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts, the sound of Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond playing quietly on the radio. You thanked God for the cold air fogging the windows of the truck, otherwise you’d be on display for the world.

“Come inside me, please daddy.” You begged, and then wrapped our arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

And that’s what undid him. You. Both of you. Joel bucked his hips into you in sloppy, violent thrusts. You screamed, reaching the blissful release again, screaming daddy, daddy, daddy as he took you there, pouring his white hot cream into you in an endless load. You begged him for more and he buried himself into you.

And then your body went limp against his. Once bouncy, boisterous curls now sticking to the sweat on both of your faces.

“Fuck…” Joel groaned, pulling his cock out of you. Both of you pulled yourselves back together. You combed your fingers through your hair and Joel handed you a wipe to clean yourself up. “‘M too old to be this impulsive. Look what you did to me.”

You smirked, wiping the white milk from between your legs. “And I’d do it again.”

When Joel pulled up to the driveway, you noticed more cars parked out front. “Looks like everyone else showed up.”

Keith was in the living room as you and Joel entered the house, a frown plastered on his face when he looked at you, your neck, and then cast a glance at Joel. You looked in the mirror by the door and found a hickey the size of a golfball tattooed on your neck, covering it with your curls as soon as your realized the evidence.

“Hey, look who finally came back!” Your dad strolled over, a smile on his face that you knew would be wiped away the second he found out what you did with his best friend just moments ago. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, we got the cream.”

More cream than you needed, actually.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Catching the fox." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

Jesus only caused problems since you, Daryl and Rick met him during a run, but that doesn’t prevent you all from having a little fun. (Even if you come home empty-handed)

A/N: Based on what is probably the funniest episode of "The Walking Dead" to me. I wrote this a while ago but I'm posting it for my friend, who actually finds this funny hehe Sorry if this is long and boring :c Spoiler alert: Jealous Daryl is my favorite Daryl! I hope you like it!

“So… hunky-dunky. Uh?”

In front of you all, an empty, silent road is always pleasant. Nature wasn’t lost after the apocalypse, not completely, and although the green color of the grass disappeared slowly with the passage of time, Mother Nature still retained her place in the world. Sitting by the window in that big truck full of food, the wind pushes some strands of your hair as you breathe in the fresh air. And, sitting in the middle as Rick drives, Daryl glances at you as he checks Denise’s list.

“Don’t…” He says, warning you, making you chuckle. It was the word that Eugene used when he gave Daryl his map, always using fancy ones. At his side as he drives the truck down the hill, Rick chuckles, too. “Why ya never gave me a list?”

You watch the list in his hand and then, you look back at him.

“I think it's impossible to get a high definition TV with surround sound system so I can watch the games again like in those old days. You know, the ones that were on TV before the world went to hell.”

Both men look at you with a funny look, and you look back at the window as the truck approaches that abandoned gas station on the left side of the road. There are papers and trash everywhere, and Rick parks near the gasoline pumps. All of you get out, but since the silent street is free of any walker, you walk around while Rick goes ahead to check the store door.

“We had that shit in our apartment? That round sound thing.”

You chuckle before turning around towards him, smiling innocently.

“Surround sound system, love, and no, we didn’t. We were always fooling around so we never really had time to watch the games. Remember?”

Your words catch him off guard, and his innocent eyes look at you until he understands what they mean. A second later, the boldness shines in his blue eyes and he closes the distance of a few steps between you two. Daryl encircles your waist with his right arm and pulls you gently towards him, his forehead resting against yours.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me, sunshine?”

You shake your head, softly.

“No, but why?” You whisper. “Does that turn you on?”

“Really?” Rick complains, suddenly, closer than you thought he was. “Now?”

You chuckle pulling away from your husband.

“Sorry, bro.” Says Daryl, taking his arm off of you.

Rick looks at you two with a sarcastic expression and raises an eyebrow.

“I regret coming with you two.”

But he is joking and lets it go quickly.

Daryl walks over to the black machine lying in the corner, noticing it is a vending machine turning upside down. Although Denise said it wasn’t of the utmost importance, he wants to go back to Alexandria with a gift for Tara, just because Daryl understood the feeling of trying to do something nice for another person. So, minutes later, Rick rolls over the machine with a chain attached to the truck, and as he gets out and walks towards you two, the glass shows that the interior is full.

“It’s soda and Candy.” Rick says while Daryl removes one of the chains. “Why the trouble?”

“It ain’t a trouble.”

But suddenly, out of nowhere, a man turns around the corner and pushes Rick on his way out, raising his hands in the air as Daryl and Rick take their guns to aim at the stranger, your own hand holding your weapon hidden behind your waist, as a reflex in the face of danger.

The bandana that covers half of his face shows only his pretty eyes.

“Hi.” He is agitated, as if he has run for a long time. “I was just running from the dead.”

“How many?” Daryl asks while Rick steps back to look at the corner of the lonely place, searching for any walkers close by.

“10. Maybe more. I’m not risking it. Once it gets to double digits, I start running.”

Daryl doesn’t trust him, and he keeps pointing at him with his gun.

“Where?”

“About a half a mile back. They’re headed this way. You probably have about…” He wiggles his head, looking for the right number. “11 minutes.”

The distrust doesn’t go away, but Rick is the first and the only one who lowers his weapon.

“Okay, thanks for letting us know.”

“Yes.” The man breathes through his bandana. “There’s more of them than us. Right? Gotta stick together.” He looks at Daryl, due to his gun still pointing at him. “Right?”

Although that stranger appeared from nowhere, he finally lowers his gun, too.

“You have a camp?” The man asks.

Maintaining the safety of Alexandria was the main thing, and being selective with the new people you all let in was the first rule until you all knew they could be trusted.

“No.” Daryl says.

“Do you?” Rick asks.

The man thinks about it for a few seconds.

“No.” He finally says, and then, he looks at you standing next to them. “It’s just you two, with a woman?”

Before you realize what he meant, Daryl raises his weapon quickly, his hand tightening around it in anger.

“Ya want me to shoot ya, asshole? She’s ma wife and you’re gonna say yer sorry.”

The man breathes in and Rick looks at him.

“You better say it now before he shoots you.”

Before looking at you, the man looks at Daryl who is still pointing at him with his gun, so the new one does it. You don’t think what he said was an insult, but it is better to follow the situation calmly before Daryl shoots him for real.

“I’m really sorry, madam. I didn’t mean to offend you.” You move your hand in the air to minimize the misunderstanding, telling him it was okay. “Well… sorry for running into you. I’m gonna go now.” He turns around and starts walking, talking over his shoulder. “This is the next world; I hope it’s good to you, guys.”

Daryl and you share a confused look as Rick watches the man walk away.

“I’m Rick, these are (Y/N) and Daryl. What’s your name?”

The man turns around again and pulls his bandana down.

“Paul Rovia. But my friends used to call me Jesus…” He extends his arms out, casually. “You pick.”

“You said you didn’t have a camp.” Rick answers back. “You are on your own?”

“Yeah.” He looks at you all with a sudden confidence. “But still, best not to try anything.”

However, Daryl doesn’t seem impressed, or intimidated.

“Best not to make threats ya can’t keep, either.”

“Exactly.” And the man starts running out of there.

“How many walkers–” Rick tries to ask, but Daryl cut him off.

“No. Not this guy.”

However, Rick makes his question anyways.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Sorry! Gotta run. You should too.”

And he disappears around the corner.

Running into new people is still strange, but that situation was a new kind of strange, and hard to understand too.

“What the hell was that?” Daryl asks.

“Yeah. He was clean.” Rick nods. “His beard, it was trimmed.”

“And he was way too confident to be just by himself.” You say.

Rick nods again, because if the man is strange to you both, then that is more than just a coincidence: something else is happening.

“He didn’t have a gun, either.” Daryl frowns, looking down the path Jesus took.

“We could track him.” Rick put away his gun. “Watch him for a while. Get to know him more. See if he’s really alone. Maybe bring him back.”

“No.” Daryl complains, his voice always low and husky. “That guy calls himself Jesus.”

But then, a noise from the back of the place attracts everyone’s attention: all of you go there, encountering firecrackers exploding in a barrel before hearing the thunderous sound of tires against the pavement.

“Shit.” Daryl says when he realizes the truth. “He swiped yer keys. Didn’t he?”

The moment you all get back to the front, the place is still empty, with the truck full of food moving away up the hill.

“Sorry!” Jesus yells as he drives away, taking the vending machine with him, too.

The three of you stop in the middle of the road, watching with frustration as the truck goes away under your eyes.

“Shit.” Rick says.

The vending machine leaves a path on the middle of the road, like breadcrumbs to track down the thief, until you find it halfway on the way. Daryl opens the case to secure Denise’s sodas for Tara while Rick and you catch your breaths after running up there. The strands of your hair stick to your forehead, while the beads of sweat begin to fall on theirs.

“This is a special request from the doctor.” Daryl says, showing Rick the soda can, opening one to give it to you.

“Hey…” Rick breathes and takes the broken one Daryl gives him. “Whatever she wants. She saved Carl’s life. We didn’t know her, and she turned out to be all right. And if there’s still people out here, and they’re still people, we should bring them in.”

“What? Like this guy?” Daryl points to the road Jesus left.

“No, fuck that guy.” Rick shakes his head and looks inside the machine for something.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your mind full of thoughts about what had just happened, but without saying anything, at least until you can formulate a coherent opinion.

“What’s on your mind, (Y/N)?” Rick asks when he sees you looking at the ground.

“Well, I just think that…” You doubt if you should share with them what you are thinking, but it is a waste of time while the truck is still moving. “It’s nothing. We should keep going.”

You try to take a few steps but Daryl stops you reaching out his arm.

“Hey.” He says softly to you. “S’okay, jus’ say it.”

You are not naive; you know how that world works now. Not only were the alive against the dead ones. That life was a battle against other people as well. However, not everything was black and white. Or it was?

“I don’t say that what he did is right, but no one steals for pleasure these days, so maybe he did it because he needs it, too.”

Rick wiggles his head slowly, half of him giving you the reason because that is true although nothing apologized what that man did.

“So what?” Daryl frowns, his temper rising again. “Would ya jus’ let him go with our stuff?”

His personality is like a roller coaster, full of constant ups and downs, but luckily, you know how to handle it.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Dixon, and it was you who said I could share my opinion. But I am not saying we should let him go just like that. Hell, no.”

Daryl gives a step back, confused by your sudden change of mood, just like his own.

“So?”

You frown back.

“The truck is ours. And, if in this world the strongest ones win, that will be us. So, we will get it back.”

The force in your eyes and the way you look at him catches him completely. But Daryl is no longer shy, and although he likes your privacy as a marriage, he can’t help but tangle his hand in your hair, softly.

“Since when ya are this ballsy, woman?”

Playing, you push his hand away.

“Fuck you, Dixon. I was like this long before I met your ass.”

“I really hate you both.” Rick says, making Daryl chuckle.

“Sorry, bro. S’jus’… she looks so hot right now.”

You chuckled as Rick raises an eyebrow.

“It’s because we ran until we got here. Now, we should get going.”

At first, you try to be understanding to the request of both men asking you to wait behind the bushes while they surprise the stranger, who just finished fixing the tire of the truck parked in the middle of the road, away from the danger posed by Paul, or Jesus, or whatever he chose to call himself, but you can’t help but compare him to a fox, somewhat elusive, almost slippery as he managed to dodge the blows of Rick and Daryl, who were hit in the stomach and pushed against the truck, respectively.

So, when Jesus turns around, he stops dead with your gun pointed at his face, his hands in the air.

“You would really shoot me in the face just for a truck?”

You tilt your head, taking the safety off the gun your dad gave you for protection before dying.

“No. Not in the face, but maybe in the legs just below the knees so you stop being so slippery.”

He takes a deep breath.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

Behind him, Rick and Daryl raise their own weapons, making you lower your own.

“Oh, trust me, pretty boy, I totally would.”

But suddenly, before you can say more, a walker comes out of the bushes, grunting at you all.

“Do you even have any ammo?” Jesus asks, but Daryl and Rick are already tired of him, and both shoot the walker at the same time. “Okay, again, are you gonna shoot me over a truck?”

“There’s a lot of foot on that truck.” Rick says. “The keys. Now.”

In the end, Jesus gives them the keys and Rick ties his hands and feet up to leave him there, on a side of the road.

“The knots aren’t that tight.” Rick says to him. “You should be able to get free… after we’re long gone.”

For his part, Daryl growls when he sees that some of the soda cans had crushed during the fight, with all the content dripping from his backpack.

“Maybe we should talk now.” Jesus smiles when Rick walks away.

“Nah.” Daryl walks pass him by and makes you walk with him to the passenger seat. But first, he stops to shake a can and throws it at Jesus. “Here. In case ya gets thirsty.”

When you two get to the passenger seat, Daryl goes up first, and though he has to move to let you go up, too, he leans down to take you by the waist to help you go up to sit between his legs. You are a little surprise by his action, but he just closes the truck door and chuckles as Rick moves the keys around his finger.

“You were right, (Y/N).” He smiles at you as he starts the truck. “We are the strongest ones.”

As the truck begins to move, Daryl leans back against the seat and shows his middle finger out the window.

“So long, ya prick!” He yells at Jesus.

The loud music in the truck accompanies you all the way. As you lean your arm against the window frame, the wind makes your tied hair move back, in a soothing and peaceful way. Daryl’s right hand continues to rest against your waist beneath your t-shirt, holding you against him while everything around is still fine.

“He ain’t that pretty, y’know?” Daryl says quietly over the music, after a long moment of silence.

You frown, turning slightly to look at him.

"Are you kidding with me? I was just messing with him. Jesus...” But you laugh when Daryl frowns, even though you just said the name of the son of God, not the stranger’s. "That's not what I meant!"

He snorts, but before he can answer back, Rick talks first.

“Hey, look at that.” He says, pointing something on the road in front.

A barn. When you get close, the even path changes for an unstable one as you all enter the barn’s lawn, but, out of nowhere, there is a blow that comes from the roof, getting your attention before theirs.

“You hear that?” You ask as Daryl lowers all the volume of the music.

“I think that son of a bitch is on the roof.”

And then, Rick is really tired of that fox.

“Hold on.” Rick steps on the brake and the truck stops abruptly, throwing Jesus through the air until he falls in front of you all.

But then, he just gets up on his feet, and runs away. It is ridiculous. It is almost comical the way Rick drives to chase him down the field, but in the end, it is Daryl who has enough of him.

“Motherfu-” Daryl stops himself to take you by the waist, and he moves from under you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Before you react or before Rick can stop the car, Daryl opens the door and gets out of the truck to chase after Jesus on foot.

Rick drives near them as you sigh.

“Sometimes I can’t believe I’m married to that man.”

Rick laughs and tries to move the truck to block Jesus, but that elusive fox is more agile, so Rick steps back the truck as Daryl and Jesus swing from side to side in the middle of the field, waiting for one of them to take the first step.

“We should clear the way for them.” Rick says when some walkers around the place start to move too close to them.

You open the truck door, moving away from it, pulling the knife from the sheath of your waist.

“We came to a conclusion, asshole!” Daryl yells at Jesus, still in the middle of the place when he runs away, so Daryl looks at you two before start chasing him, again. “I got him!”

Some walkers were tied up around another truck, and you and Rick make them fall when they manage to break the rope free.

Back in the truck, Jesus opens the driver’s door and tries to get in, but Daryl grabs him from his jacket and tries to pull him out.

“Come ‘ere, ya little shit.”

No one sees it coming, no one pays any attention, but a walker comes up to Daryl from behind, walking dangerously until it enters Jesus’s view. So he raises a gun, watching Daryl without moving.

“Duck.” He says.

Daryl understands it at once and crouches. The bullet flies over him and enters directly into the walker’s head causing it to fall. Daryl looks back and studies the body on the ground before turning back to look at Jesus.

“Thanks.” Daryl breathes out and punches him on the face. “That’s ma gun! Come ‘ere.”

The shot pierces your ears and Rick’s, causing to both of you to look at the truck in the distance, and you two run to them. Daryl tries to pull Jesus out of the truck, but Jesus knocks it into neutral, and the vehicle starts rolling into a pond behind. Daryl jumps out of the truck and Jesus followed him, but his head gets hit with the door and he passes out. When Rick and you finally reach the place, you watch Daryl moving Jesus with his boot as the truck sinks.

You sigh heavily when you all see the last of that truck before it disappears forever.

The new car you all get is old, ironically, but Rick keeps driving through the silent road in the middle of those huge trees. From the backseat, Daryl pushes Jesus who was still pretty unconscious, but his body continues to fall back on Daryl’s shoulder.

“Is he your new best friend?” You tease him, making Daryl groan. “I’m getting jealous, actually.”

“Be quiet, woman.”

“I told you I could go in the back with him.”

“Yeah?” He says. “Over ma dead body.”

Just to annoy him even more, Rick moves the car so that way Jesus’ body would fall back on Daryl. He growls again, pushing Jesus far from him as Rick drives back to Alexandria.

That same night, Daryl and Rick walk down Alexandria Street back to their homes after leaving Jesus in the basement. He was fine despite the hit, and by now they just had to wait for him to wake up in the morning.

As they arrive at Rick’s house first, it is time to say goodbye.

“It is pretty stupid of us to go out there. Isn’t?” Rick asks as he goes up the stairs of his porch.

“Yep.” Daryl says walking away. “Do it again tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Rick answers watching him go. “Tell (Y/N) to come.”

“Hu-uh.” Daryl waves his hand to him.

Two houses away, Daryl goes up the steps to the porch and opens the door to his house. The only light comes from a lamp on the table in the living room, shining with an amber color. Daryl closes the door behind him and watches you come out of the kitchen.

“There’s a couple of sandwiches in case you’re hungry.”

But he just walks towards you while you stop in front of the stairs. You are tired but it had been a funny day in spite of everything, and you laugh when Daryl wraps his arms around your waist to lift you up.

You hold yourself with your hands on his shoulders, your legs around his waist.

“Nah. Jus’ want some time alone with ma wife.”

[potentialguybodyswaps]

Brother body part swap part 2:

Oh man, my brother is such a dumbass, and now I get to keep his, I mean my new awesome big cock, I get he was trying to be helpful and make me happy, but how dumb could he be?

It started a few days ago when I got kinda self conscious after hanging out with my friends smoking pot, talkin about all the girls we fuck, when in actuality I don’t fuck many, kinda been hurt too many times when they make fun of my dick size….

After my friends left, I sat down with my bro who was high as a kite watching Tv

I asked him “hey Christian, I have a question for you”

“Yuh” Christian said not breaking focus from the tv and looking like a zombie

“How old were you when you first got laid” I said clasping my hands together and leaning in, trying to look like I was focusing on the tv and not his answer

“17”

“And how big is your dick?”

“Um about 9 inches… um you?” He said tilting his head to try and look at me

I wasn’t ready for him to fire back a question like that, I don’t wanna lie but I don’t want him to make fun of me if he’s actually 9 inches, bro must have gotten the good genes in the family

“Um, 7 myself. Why do you ask?” I said feeling like a fraud for lying

“Bro chill, I don’t care, you asked me first after all, what’s the problem, something wrong?” He said finally breaking from trying to make eye contact with me and faced the tv again

“Um, I mean, kinda I guess… some girls I’ve been with kinda think I’m small” i said sinking into the couch feeling embarrassed

“Nah bro, your good, I mean your pretty good looking, no homo. And 7 inches isn’t small, bigger than average, she’s probs just a college slut, there’s always someone bigger. Now let’s just watch the rest of this, and finish the season haha” my brother said laughing referring to the show we’re watching, Rick and Morty, what a fit show for a smoking session might I add

“… wait you think I’m good looking?” I said smiling trying not to blush for some reason “haha thanks bro, just one more question what’s your body count, like how often do you get laid?”

“Uh like 2 or 3”

“2 or 3!? Times or girls?” I said shocked from what I herd

“Times bro, now shut up we can talk about this later dude” he said annoyed that I kept bothering him

I was quiet for the rest of the episode and decided to go up to my room after that figuring that’s the most I could get out of him without it being weird. I mean it was already weird but I didn’t want it to be anymore

I ended up falling asleep pretty early that day sense me and my brother actually go to the same college, we both gotta get up early so he can drive us both there

I wasn’t asleep for long when I herd a knocking at my door

I sat up letting my hair dangle in my face and just pulled my phone out that way I could play games or whatever when whoever walks though the door decides to talk to me

Chris opened the door a little bit and stuck his head in

Ultimately he was just checking in on me asking how I was doing and eventually came in having one of those brotherly talks where he basically just tells me he cares about me, that he’s here if I ever need to talk, and how I’m his favorite little brother, when In reality I’m his only little brother…

We started talking about my problems and I broke down a little bit completely throwing myself onto my bad trying to hide my face so he couldn’t see I was about to cry

I told him I mainly just wanted a actual relationship but all the girls I do like dump me

He told me something along the lines of how he’s not like me, and was shocked this is what I actually want and how it seemed like me and my friends were playing a game of who could fuck the most girls

That just upsetted me even more cause I forgot for a moment about how I’m very good at making it seem like I’m a fuck boi that gets all the girls, when in reality all my one night stands, weren’t one night stands cause of my choice, they all decided 5 inches isn’t enough

Chris could see I was hurting on the inside from this, not knowing the actual reasoning why I can’t keep a girl, and told me that most of his girlfriends always thought I was the cute one, he then proceeded to ask if I wanted him to try and hook me up with one of them

“Ya” I said trying not to let my voice break

“Ok, I’ll start work on it tomorrow” Christian said walking out

The next day came and went as usual, however Christian did tell me I had a date with his Ex Beth in like 2 days! That’s not alot of time to prepare but I think he purposely set it up cause that’s my birthday, must just trying to be cheap and call my date a gift or something

I spent the whole rest of that day and the next telling Christian all my ideas for my date and asking questions like what did she like

Chris told me “just be you, maybe hang out for a little bit, dinner if she gets hungry, perhaps take her out to the lake and go for a swim”

I asked Chris “ how are we gonna get there? It’ll be pretty weird if you have to drive us, even more pathetic if she has to drive us” I said annoyed

I saw chris roll and eyes and reach into his pockets pulling out the keys to his mustang and tossing them to me

“Duh bro you can borrow my car I guess while you go on your date, don’t fucking scratch it tho, you know mustangs aren’t cheap” he said all seriously

“Seriously bro? Your gonna let me drive the stang? What’s the catch, why are you being so nice all of a sudden” I said squinting my eyes at him

“No reason bro, it’s your birthday, that’s like 1 of the 2 days a year I legally have to be nice to you, what you don’t wanna drive it?” Christian said raising an eyebrow to me

“No!, No!, I do! It was just a question that’s all” i said back peddling trying not to get him ask for his keys back

“Listen we can talk more about this tomorrow ok?” I said tossing him back the keys

Me being the stoner I am I proceeded to go back to my room and get high so I can fall asleep and wake up sooner to start enjoying my birthday

As always I’m typically the first one out the door but this morning I almost tripped over a packaged addressed to Chris

I opened back up the front door and yelled “Chris there’s a package here for you! On the step” And the. Proceeded to go back to the car

Once inside I kinda just closed my eyes and tried falling asleep again, sleeps one of my favorite things and I’ll take every minute I can get of it

For some reason my feet got super tight in my shoes but I didn’t think much about it just kicked them off so it quit distracting me from taking a few minute nap

After a bit I could hear my door open and a pair of shoes and keys were tossed on me

“Your driving” I herd a voice say

I looked up was shocked to see my own body wearing my clothes

“Bro what the fuck! Why am I looking at myself” i said frantically trying to pull the sun visor down just to be greeted with my brothers face instead of mine

“Holy shit! I’m you now Christian, how did this happen!?” I said feeling my face thinking I was still asleep

In the corner of my eye I could see my brother reach into his hoodie and pull out a necklace dangling it around his neck

“Remember the necklace you wanted” he said still jiggling the necklace around

“Ya and you got it? And it actually works!?” Holy shit bro this is crazy” I said unbuttoning my jeans so I can check his dick out

“Aye bro, I think you forgot a part” I said looking at him disappointed

“Nah dude, I just felt like it’d be weird to swap that, now anyways get up your driving.” Chris said standing there waiting for me to get up

I stood up, putting on his shoes and walked over to the driver side and started the car. Not gonna lie, really weird being in my brothers body, like carrying the weight feels weird, we both weigh almost the same but since Chris is taller I’m way skinner now than in my real body… but anyways I was really excited to drive my brothers car, I fucking love his car, I kinda have a thing for mustangs

I know it’s important to let your car warm up so I left it started for about a minute before I put it in drive and started heading to our classes

“So… um, how long is this gonna last? Or how long are we gonna stay swapped” i said trying to keep my eyes on the road

“Oh I don’t know, there was a instructions booklet but I don’t think we need that haha… aslong as you want bro, aslong as it’s within reason, so could be for a day, could be for a week or two, but I definitely don’t wanna be you for a whole month haha, guess you could consider this another birthday gift” said laughing checking his smile out in the side mirror

“Oh jeez, thanks bro, but you do remember I have that date tonight right?” I said a bit annoyed about the timing of the swap

“Well I mean we could always swap back after class. Or we could stay like this and I could go on your date for you maybe? That way I can do everything possible to make sure you get a 2nd date and continue seeing you, sense, ya know… you like to fuck up a lot haha” he said laughing at me

“Not funny dude, but ya dude I guess maybe it would be a good idea for you to go as me. You’d probably know what she would like and could probably seal the deal with her to date me” I said pulling off the main road and onto the campus looking for a place to park

“So we have a deal then?” Chris said holding a hand out

“Deal” i said shaking his hand

After turning the car off and opening the door to get out I herd Chris yell “Hope you have a good day CHRISTIAN” he said putting emphasis on his name, er I guess my name for now

“You too benji” I said also putting emphasis on his new name

I went to Chris’s class for the day and they were a lot harder than what I expected mainly the bullshit math and science ones that typically don’t have much to do with whatever major you pick

After school I waited by the car for my brother to come that way I can drive us both home and he can start getting ready his date

Chris was going though my whole closet looking for a outfit that was date worthy and when the time finally came for him to go pick Beth up, he came and grabbed the keys to the car

After he took the keys and left me in his room, I started looking at myself in the mirror slowly stripping looking at my boney figure

I mean Chris ain’t that bad looking but even he admits I’m the better looking one, I mean truthfully I don’t think I’d mind staying in his body, but only if I had his dick, that’s also assuming he’s not lying about being 9 inches hard haha, I know I’m no where near that, I’m really 5 inches and our dad is about the same so I doubt bro is even above 6

Wondering if it was possible a swap could be permanent I remembered Chris said there was a instruction book that he threw away cause who needs one for a fucking necklace

I found a little pamphlet in his trash and started reading it, really only 2 pages explaining how it works, how to do a swap, but after that there was a section explaining what to do if you want a swap to become permanent

The pamphlet said if you want a permanent swap all you have to do is jerk off since the magic in the necklace is holy magic, any sins done while swapped can break the magic link leaving it useless to those that used it. So things like sexual conduct before marriage, or even just jerking off was enough to break it

It’s a good thing I read this cause I was gonna jerk off but I don’t think I wanna be stuck as my brother, taller and skinner now but with the same sized dick I have, it kinda looks even smaller

I decided to get dressed again and started playing Chris’s Xbox looking for a good game to play, finally settling on over watch playing quick play not wanting to mess up his competitive score

About an hour and a half later, I was in the middle of the practice range testing out a new hero when I herd the door open, I paused it and turned around looking up to see my brother “how’d it go, does she still wanna go out with me?” I said

“Oh ya bro, it’s still not over, I’m just here to grab some shorts cause she wants to go down to the lake and go for a swim before it gets real dark… do you think it’d be wrong of me if I tried to fuck her on the first date?” He said grabbing a bag and putting some black shorts and some towels in it

“Nah bro, I mean it does sound like something I’d do, so she might be expecting it” i said not able to help giving him a sly smile

Chris ended up setting his bag down and went into the bathroom connected to his room, just then an idea struck me and I ran to my room grabbing a pair of my shorts and ran back taking his shorts out tossing them under the bed and stuffing mine in the bag

Just then chris came out the bathroom seeing me stuff something in there.

“What’s that” he said walking closer to grab the bag

“Uh… just some condoms, can’t be too careful right?” I said taking a step back trying not to seem suspicious

“Ugh ya thanks bro, stopping at a store to buy some might have been weird if she knew I was planning to do this haha” grabbing the bag and laughing while he walked out saying “see ya later bro”

After he left I couldn’t help but laughing to myself “oh man, I can’t believe I just did that, well I guess atleast now I I’ll know how big his dick is… although I suppose if he does fuck her once we swap junk, we’ll permanently be stuck like this, but I mean if he’s actually that hung and not lying, I think I could live with this, but fuck, I hate the fact that this is a gamble that he’s not lying about how big he is” I thought to myself

I went back to playing my game, going back to quick play, after like 5 or 6 games holding the controller in my hand resting them on my sweats, I started feeling someone brushing my hand, I lifted up both hands and saw a larger bulge than before

“Oh my god this is it, he put my swim shorts on” I thought myself backing out my game and getting up to go to the bathroom

I pulled my sweats down some and could see the large imprint on my underwear, I pulled those down too, to take a piss and was left almost speechless, bro looks as big soft as I do hard that’s insane haha

After getting done with taking I piss I went back to the room and took my pants completely off standing in the middle of the room in just my brothers underwear, I swapped into his early cause why not, not like I could actually swap anything myself

I pulled them down a little bit and grabbed my dick, thinking about how I have my brothers dick might be a little weird but the fact that it’s so much bigger is even hotter

It started growing in my hand and once fully hard I grabbed a tape measure and measured it, I just had to know

And sure enough he wasn’t lying, Chris actually does have a 9 inch dick, we’ll actually 9 inches and 1/4th

I started slowly jerking off at a pace that wouldn’t be able to make me cum, basically just edging and enjoying the use of my huge cock debating if I wanted to cum, I could be the nice brother and swap back with him, but at the same time he probably fucked his ex already, oh man she HAS to be disappointed, but at the same time I don’t wanna go back to disappointed women. But I might not have to, if he fucked her then that means we can’t swap back anyways, but if he hasn’t then that means I have to give him his dick and body back

I sped up my jerking and kept stopping short of cuming for over an hour continuing my internal debate, on whether or not I wanted to do this and keeping Chris’s body, trapping him in mine, like I said kinda hot we’ve swapped bodies entirely, the big dick is even hotter, but I don’t know if I could keep his body forever

Just then I herd a car door slam and I figured that was Christian pissed off, not having anymore time to debate, I sped up, hoping I’m making the right decision, sense I’ve been edging for over an hour it didn’t take long for me to cum now that I ramped up the speed trying to bust before he walks in on me jerking, probably took less than half a minute of me jerking furiously to finally bust sending giant ropes of cum flying out my dick, 6 or 7 ropes total flew out my dick landing a couple feet away and a few more smaller ones landing on my feet

Just as I was panting, about to wipe the tip of my head off and put it away, Chris walks in, i looked at him the moment he opened the door, looking like he was about to yell but went into shock for a few minutes at the site of me with his dick in my hand

“You didn’t!” He said loudly with my old higher voice

“I froze, uh uh uh, this isn’t what it looks like” i said panicking, I thought I’d have a few more moments before he’d come in

“Really? Cause it looks like you swapped my shorts out for yours, I come back after my date almost exploding after I told her I’m almost as big as my brother, which was a let down for her when she saw I’m only 5 inches hard! And walked in right after you got done jerking off in my body!” He said angrily

“Uh, uh, Im sorry just couldn’t help myself, when I noticed my dick didn’t feel right I decided to check it out and then I got hard from looking at this chopper and I just couldn’t help myself haha” i said trying to break the tension

“Whatever dude your lucky Beth still wants to go out with you, we’re fucking done with this swap, get out” he said grabbing some of his clothes and a beanie

I walked out smirking knowing what was gonna happen.

“Hold on,” I said stopping at the door “I thought you said we could stay swapped for a week or too”

“Ya well you forfeited that when you took my shorts and swapped them with your own, I told you I didn’t wanna swap junks with you, I mean who wants a smaller dick, not to mention balls. I didn’t wanna lose 2 inches and instead you forced me to lose 4! Now get out!” He screamed at me slamming the door on me

I went back to my room smirking and just laid on my bed waiting for him to realize swapping back wouldn’t work

I laid in bed for about 5 minutes when I herd a “WHAT THE FUCK” from across the hall and then stomping coming my way

“Oh? Did you change your mind?” I said trying to look shocked but failing to hide a creeping smile from popping up on my face

“No as you can see, I’m wearing my clothes but nothing happened, now help me get this dam necklace off” he said failing to get the necklace off

“Oh this is great, I mean might not be the best body to be stuck in but with a dick this big, I don’t mind giving up the cute brother title, atleast I’ll be the big dicked brother haha fucking sweat!” I thought to myself as I walked over and tried to unclasp the necklace to no prevail, I decided to pull it off breaking the clasp to the necklace

I decided to grab some of my old clothes and put them on before I decided to loosely tie the necklace around my neck so I was technically still wearing it

“Did you ever read the instructions” i said trying to hide a smile

“No, what would be so important about stupid instructions for a necklace” he said frustrated

“A magic necklace, and well in the instructions it says that part of the magic is if you desire to keep your parts you have, all you have to do is cum, ether jerking off or sex, whatever gets you to blow” i said with a full blown shit eating grin now as I saw realization Dawn upon Chris’s face

“And well you already had sex with Beth in my body right?” I said

“Ya” he said changing facial expressions from confused to horrified

“And I already jerked off right before you got back. Which means nothing is probably gonna happen” i said

We waited in silence for a couple minutes before he finally snapped

“So you knew if you jerked off we wouldn’t be able to swap back!? What the fuck is wrong with you dude? Now we’re stuck like this! We gotta find a way to swap back, I don’t wanna be known as the small dick little brother” Chris said with tears in his eyes

“Let me reiterate something you said to me not long ago. “” who wants a smaller dick”” well not me, when I saw you weren’t actually bullshitting about having a 9 inch dick, I decided I don’t actually mind having your body. Knowing you probably would try and bang your ex in my body, I decided to seize the opportunity and jerk off in your body, just to seal the deal in case you didn’t fuck her, just so I can keep this” I said putting my hand in my pants and fondling my dick and balls

“I mean not to mention even if I didn’t swap our shorts out, sense you fucked her we’d still be stuck but then you’d be hung in my body while I kept my shrimp dick in yours, it kinda looked weird on me sense I’m skinner and taller now… so don’t be mad that you fucked up and made it permanent, I just took advantage and swapped the final thing out that way it’s a complete Bodyswap” i said

“I mean you don’t have to be known as the little dicked brother, your known as the cute brother now, you just happen to have a small cock now, so if I was you BENJI, I’d get use to being the smaller brother in more than one way, cause luckily for me, this is permanent now haha” i said laughing and putting emphasis on his name

#longoverdo

#fromthevault

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * please, please, please

warnings: set during that one scene from ttc, reader is a minor goddess of music/singing (to fit the sabrina carpenter vibe ykwim?), a bunch of quotes are not mine they are direct from the book so credits to uncle rick!! there’s also a lorelai gilmore reference at the end

pairing: apollo x goddess! daughter of aphrodite and ares

“absolutely not”

you give the sun god a look of pleading and he laughs at your desperation

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

you hit his head “yes you do”

“she’s my dear old sister-” apollo begins

“exactly. along with her hunters and others”

“I don’t see the problem”

“the problem is that you can’t control yourself”

“well when I’m around you…”

“oh my gods!” you hit him twice this time “this is what I’m talking about. you’re an idiot”

apollo ignores your comment and drives (??) the sun chariot to the snowy ground

“I beg you do not embarrass motherfucker” you warn

when you step out onto the wet grass and before you have the chance to greet everyone apollo speaks,

"little sister!" he calls "what's up? you never call. you never write. I was getting worried!"

artemis sighs "I'm fine, apollo. and I am not your little sister"

"hey, I was born first."

"we're twins! how many millennia do we have to argue?"

"so what's up?" he interrupted. "got the girls with you, I see. you all need some tips on archery?”

“I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to camp half-blood”

"sure, sis" he then raised his hands in a stop everything gesture “I feel a haiku coming”

the hunters groaned but nonetheless he held up a dramatic hand and began to speak,

‘green grass breaks through snow

artemis pleads for my help

I am so cool’

he grinned waiting for an applause

“last line was four syllables” you point out

apollo frowns "was it?"

"yes” artemis agrees “what about I am so big-headed?"

"no, no, that's six syllables” he starts to mutter to himself but you ignore it, you could be here for days

one of the hunters, zoe you recognized turned to the demigods and explained how apollo had been into haikus since he got back from japan, and said god interrupted her soon after

"I've got it!" he announced "I am so awesome. that's five syllables!" he bowed feeling pleased with himself

"and now, sis” he continues “transportation for the hunters, you say? good timing. I was just about ready to roll”

"these demigods will also need a ride," artemis points to them

"no problem!" apollo checked them out "let's see... thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

thalia blushes "hi, lord apollo"

‘isn’t that his sister?’ you think

"zeus's girl, yes? makes you my half sister. used to be a tree, didn't you? glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. man, I remember one time-”

you cut him off with an elbow to his stomach, he winces in pain. a black haired demigod- with sea green eyes to differentiate him from the others, he must be poseidon’s- eyes you before asking,

“are you a goddess? how come I don’t recognize you?”

“minor goddess” you confirm “of music. my parents are ares and aphrodite, and unfortunately I am married to this idiot” you give apollo an angry look but he throws an arm around your shoulder

the daughter of zeus chokes on nearly nothing “married?!”

you nod “twelve years”

artemis speaks again “how she can put up with him is a mystery”

“well we should get going” apollo interrupts

“yes, I agree” you say and pull the sun god’s arm off of you, he frowns at the loss of contact

the hunters and demigods pack up their belongings and you pull apollo to the side, he prepares himself for whatever you’re going to say, which he’s sure will be a scolding because he ignored the one thing you asked of him

“listen-” he starts

“how about I talk you listen?” you cross your arms

this was going to be a long scolding…

[child-of-helios]

Calypso x Leo SUCKS, here is why

Look, I get why that sounds harsh, and it is, but hear me out.

First and most importantly, Calypso is a pedophile. We see her fall in love with 14 year old Percy, then 15/16 year old Leo. Already weird, right? And look, if we got some explanation as to why it would ever be okay for a titaness who is thousands of years old to fall in love with CHILDREN, maybe I could see past it.

BUT in the odyssey myth, Odysseus was MUCH older than a teenager. He was already noted to be an old wise king (who was old enough to feign madness from old age) at the START of the Trojan war. Now that war lasted 10 years and add to that the multiple years he spent traveling to Ithaca, and you got an old-ass man. So either Calypso was already a mature adult, or a child thirsting after some old dude. Sure, it happens, but weird. Let's not forget that Odysseus was married and very much still in love with his WIFE Penelope, but Calypso basically kept him hostage on her island and would not let him leave at all.

Now let's get to Percy, he got blamed for not making sure that the gods kept their promise??? Good sir that is a 16 year old who just got out of a WAR and had his memory stolen, of course he didn't check with the gods. ITS NOT HIS RESPONSIBILITY! He shouldn't be held accountable. Also let me remind you that Calypso wanted him when he was 14. Not a good look.

And finally, we get to Leo. Poor poor Leo. A boy who was oh-so starved for love that he took anything he could get, and that's my explanation as to why Calypso x Leo ever happened. Honestly, I adored Leo. I had a crush on him (still kinda do shhh), I won't lie. However, I also adored Annabeth but since her and Percy are amazing together, I could get behind Percabeth. But Caleo? Hell no. Sure, they have a fun dynamic, but it's more of a sibling dynamic in my opinion. I would've rather had Leo x Khione or something. Maybe Leo x Echo cause that would've been adorable. But Caleo??? No. He should've never gone back for her. Leave her to rot.

Secondly, Calypso is simply a jerk. And I'm the type of person who adores asshole characters when done right. Octavian is great because he's an irredeemable asshole AND he gets karma. But Calypso? She's a bitch and gets such a kindhearted boyfriend in return. Like I said, she tried to pressure a (married) man into sleeping with her and is simply a dick to Leo (HER BOYFRIEND) and I could understand if they were siblings, cause siblings are dicks to eachother with love underneath, but she just sucks. She immediately hated him, which she has reason to do after what happened to her, but even after that she was just horrible to Leo. I seriously don't see why he loves, likes, or even tolerates her.

In conclusion, I hate what Rick did to Leo. I adore his stories like no other (which is why I'm so passionate about this), but he really fumbled the bag here. Calypso is just not a good fit for Leo.

Personally I really do prefer Leo x Jason, Leo x Nico or even Leo x Echo. And yes it does sound weird for me to say that considering that I call Calypso a pedo, but I could see Echo not being able to age normally because of being stuck with Narcissus. Echo x Leo is in my opinion much better than Calypso x Leo.

Um sorry- that was really mean but I needed to say that.

On a lighter note I saw this really long worm which was cool! :D

[ghostboneswrites2]

Arrowhead Jr ||One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Summary: Daryl has baby fever

This was a request on my old blog: "ever since i saw daryl holding baby judith ive dreamt about him having absolute baby fever w reader and after babysitting him pestering reader about one?"

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Profanity, birth, babies, mostly fluffy

        "Check this out." Daryl said excitedly, holding up a camo onesie he found. You were on a small run with a few others in search of some new clothes for little Judith, since she had outgrown most of the ones she had. 

        "This is for newborns." You told him, taking the tiny outfit out of his hands.

        "I know.." He shrugged, taking it back and setting it down. 

        "Oh, god. Don't start." You begged. "Not again."

        You had been with him since the prison, after Woodbury fell. You were one of the many refugees Rick had taken in after the town fell apart, and the archer took a liking to you from the beginning. You guessed it was partially due to your friendship with his morally-gray brother before his unfortunate passing, but it was mostly just because you were you. He loved you for it. However, recently, with the safety of Alexandria's walls, he somehow caught one of the scariest diseases; Baby Fever. Especially after the two of you spent a day watching her so Rick could work and Carl could go do normal teenager things for a change.

        "Not startin' nothin." He mumbled.

        "No, but you're doing that thing again!" You argued.

        "What?" He shrugged.

        "That! The sad face and the--"

        "That place is perfect." He explained. "The--"

        "I know, I know. The big walls and the pretty houses and the people and the--"

        "I see you with Judith. I see how you look at her, how you rub her nose to get her to fall asleep and all them lil songs ya sing when she cries."

        "So what are you saying?"

        "Just that we could." He admitted. 

        "Just 'cause we could doesn't mean we should." You sighed

        "I know that, it's just... I wanna."

        "Well that's easy to say when you don't have to carry and birth a child to get one." 

        "Forget it." He huffed.

        The rest of the trip was in silence, and not the comfortable kind you so often shared. You were both frustrated. Him, because ever since he held Judith for the first time, when he fed her that first meal she ever had and felt the rush of nurturing a crying, sweet little baby, a hole formed inside him and it grew bigger every day. He never could have seen himself as a family man before that moment, but ever since, it was a primal urge he couldn't resist. To love a woman, to father a child, to protect and provide for his own family. He had already achieved finding a woman worth his affections, which was you, of course, but he still didn't have his own family and it ate him up.

        Your frustrations were sourced elsewhere, though. For one, giving birth sounded absolutely terrifying, especially in a world lacking in hospitals, epidurals, prenatal and postpartum care. You could handle a fair amount of pain, but birth was an entirely different playing field. Not to mention the risks. You had heard what happened to Judith's mom. How could you risk that? How could he expect you to? And that was just the tip of the iceberg. What kind of world would this be for a child? What kind of life would it have? Alexandria was always too good to be true, and sooner or later something would happen, and you'd all be running for your lives again. It was only a matter of time, to you. To be pregnant would mean no more runs, no more fighting, none of the things that made you useful. You'd just be a big burden with swollen ankles.

        You didn't speak when you all arrived back home, or during dinner, or after. It wasn't until you went to take a shower, until you had already stripped down and stepped into the steamy stream of water. He had silently snuck into the bathroom, undressed, and surprised you by pulling the curtain aside and joined you. You had your back turned to him, allowing the water to rush over you and wash away your racing thoughts. He grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it in his hands until he was satisfied, then he began to wash you. You loved when he did that, it was one of your favorite affections he'd show. He always started by massaging your neck and shoulders, then your back, then your arms, and he'd turn you around and work on the front. With little explanation needed, that was his favorite part.

        "Can we at least think about it?" He finally asked, eyes and hands stationed on your bare skin as you watched his face.

        "We can think about it all we want but it doesn't change anything."

        "But this place is safe. And there's a doctor here. And-- Hell, this house alone is more than either of us could've given a kid before the world turned to shit." He argued. You sighed.

        "I just can't shake the feeling that none of this is permanent." You confessed. He stopped washing you for a moment, considering your concerns.

        "What else?" He asked.

        "What else what?"

        "The other reasons. What else?"

        "This place could fall."

        "Don't mean it will."

        "The doctor could die."

        "I'll make sure he don't."

        "There could be complications."

        "That's what the doctor's for."

        "I can't help on runs or fight or--"

        "Got plenty of people that can do that."

        You took a breath. Was he gonna have a rebuttal to each argument you made?

        "Well," you said, "pregnancy makes us crazy."

        "You're already crazy." He smirked. You rolled your eyes.

        "What about medicine? Epidural? You need and anesthesiologist for that and we don't have that which means I'll feel everything and it's gonna hurt!" You rambled. His smirk grew into an amused grin. "What?" You scoffed.

        "You're scared." He said.

        "So what if I am? I should be. You should be. I could die. The baby could die. It could die down the line when we can't protect it--"

        "Now you just insult me. I'd never let a damn thing happen to you or that kid." He snapped. You gritted your teeth together.

        "You can't control everything. What about childbirth? Women died during birth when there were teams of doctors and surgeons. What about now?"

        "You wont." He shook his head. 

        "Why would you want a baby with me anyways?" You groaned. "I don't even like kids!"

        "Now that's just lyin' to yourself, darlin'."

        "Is not!" 

        "Might've been able to convince me if you never let me see you with Lil Ass Kicker, but you're a natural."

        "Jesus. Are you gonna give our baby weird nicknames too?" You asked as the two of you switched sides in the shower so you could was him too.

        "Our baby?" He repeated. You eyes widened.

        "Hypothetically." You corrected. "Our maybe, hypothetical, improbable baby."

        "Nah, I was thinkin' Arrowhead Jr for ours."

        You couldn't help it, you laughed.

        "You're insane." You shook your head, massaging his shoulder with the suds.

        "Look," he sighed. "I'm not gettin' any younger and I want a family. I already got the girl, now I need the girl to have my babies."

        "Babies?!" You gawked. "How many do you expect me to have? I'm not a damn fetus factory I can't just spread my legs and pop them out on a fucking conveyor belt." 

        "I was thinkin' two."

        "Two." You repeated, hoping that hearing the word from someone else would wake him up, maybe make him understand how ludicrous he sounded.

        "Mhm." 

        Guess not.

        "Two!" You said again. "Two babies that you want me to grow and birth."

        "Yep."

        "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"

        "Yeah." He said, turning around to face you. "I'm askin' you to be the mother of my kids and spend the rest of your life with me."

        "Um, the rest of your life. Women live longer than men, statistically speaking."

        "Then think about it. Make the rest of my life mean somethin'."

        "Ugh." You growled. You really weren't going to win this one, no matter how hard you fought. "If you wanted kids so bad why didn't you find someone who had the same goal?"

        "Don't want no one else. Just you."

        "And a kid."

        "Two kids."

        "Let's start with one." You relented.

        He grabbed your face as soon as you spoke the words and kissed you excitedly.

        "Better start workin' on it then." He said, lifting you off the ground and pressing your back to the wall. Things only got steamier from there, and not because of the hot shower.

----

        "Shit!" You whispered, staring down at the third test you'd taken. "Shit shit shit shit!"

        To say it was panic would be an understatement. It was sheer terror. You guessed you knew this was coming but you weren't ready for it yet. The only solace you found was the fact that Daryl would be home soon, and you'd get to see his face light up when you handed him not one, not two, but three positive pregnancy tests.

        He came home shortly after you wiped your tears and pulled yourself together. You were in the kitchen making him a pot of coffee, one that you'd usually share. Yet another thing you wouldn't be able to do for the next nine months.

        You heard the door open, you heard him kick his boots off and set them by the door, and you heard him greet you as he entered the kitchen.

        "Hey." He said casually as you turned to hand him a steamy mug of black coffee, just how he liked it.

        "Hey." You replied, sitting down at the table across from where he took his usual seat. He gave you a weird look when he sat down. He could read you like an open book, and there was very obviously something going on with you that day.

        "No coffee?" He asked, taking a sip of his own. You shook your head. "You okay?" You shrugged. "Talk to me." He said.

        You decided to let him see for himself as you failed to form the words. You were terrified for a lot of reasons, but most of all your pride wouldn't let you say the words, because as much as you hated to admit it, you were also happy. You were happy to make him happy, and you were excited to have someone else to love.

        You reached in your pocket and set the first test on the table. He stopped blowing on his coffee and stared at it for a moment before looking back to you. Then, you set the second one down. He pushed his eyebrows together, either out of confusion or shock, you weren't sure. Then you slapped the third test down beside the first two. He set his coffee down and stood, leaning over them to examine them. You realized he probably didn't know what a single line versus a double line meant, so you gave him a second to read the tests before he reacted.

        The second it hit him it showed. His head snapped up at you, eyes wide.

        "F'real?" He asked quietly. You nodded once and he rushed over to your side, gripping your cheeks between his hands and kissing you over and over and over. You couldn't help but chuckle as you tried to push him back.

        "Oxygen, Daryl!" You giggled. "The baby needs to breathe!"

        "C'mon. We gotta go tell Carol. And Rick. And Glenn. And Maggie." He rambled on and on, adding names as they popped in his head while he pulled you to your feet and ushered you to the door.

        "Daryl!" You protested. "Wait I need shoes!"

---

        You could barely hear Carol as she coached you through pushing with each contraction. The pain was insane and Daryl's hand was probably broken after you had been squeezing it so hard. Denise, the new doctor after Rick may or may not have killed the last one, was also talking you through, sending encouraging words as the baby's head made an entrance.

        "Okay. Breathe. Breathe. One more big push." Carol cooed to your right as Daryl encouraged you from the left.

        "C'mon, (Y/N), you're kickin' ass." He said. Admittedly he spent most of the time it took you to get to this point silent, shock written all over his face. He had no idea how to help you through this, he realized, but he fed off Carol's energy and began to give small words of encouragement when he heard Denise say she could see the baby's head.

        When the next contraction hit, you screamed in agony, pushing with all your might, just like Carol told you. 

        "It's just like doing a sit up."

        You could feel when the baby was out, but you were so exhausted your head just fell back on the pillow as you caught your breath. It wasn't until you heard the baby cry that you looked down at Denise to see her wiping the baby clean and wrapping it in a blanket. She walked over and set the baby down on your chest. "Skin to skin contact is important." She told you, before looking over to Daryl. "For you too, if you want to take your shirt off."

        Daryl was too stunned, just watching in awe as you stared down at your crying newborn baby with admiration. It took him a minute, and a little nudge from Carol who had walked over to his side, before he snapped out of it and leaned in close to you. He got a good look at the baby before he asked, "Boy or girl?"

        "Boy." Denise smiled. She was ecstatic, having successfully aided in the birth of your child.

        "We have a son." Daryl laughed, although it was more of a happy cry. He wiped a tear from his eye as he stood up and removed his shirt, holding his arms out in hopes you'd let him hold his boy.

        "Yeah, we do." You grinned, giving your baby a kiss on the head before you passed him over to his father.  Daryl was breathless as he scooped the infant into his arms, bouncing him and whispering sweet nothings.

        "Hey, little Arrowhead." He laughed. He had called him that for the entire pregnancy.

        "I was thinking about naming him (name of your choice). What do you think?" You asked.

        He nodded and kissed little (baby name). 

        "Hey, (baby name). I'm your daddy."

[deathbecomesthem]

Blizzard

Eddie Munson x a Blizzard treat

MINORS DNI - +18 ONLY

For @jo-harrington. This was meant for your birthday, but we know that didn't happen. I love you forever.

Summary: Eddie works at the DQ and gets weird with some ice cream.

CW: Male masturbation, food play, brief discussion of vomit.

--

Eddie is torn between two paths of thought - needing cash in his pocket, therefore needing to go to work - and wondering what is the point of selling ice cream in the winter. The defroster in the van quit working in early spring, and Eddie had done what Eddie does - put it off. Well, now it’s cold again, and he’s wiping off as much of the frost accumulated on his windshield as he can with the crumbled Burger King napkins he found on the floor of the passenger’s seat.

He’s thinking about simply turning around and heading back into the trailer where he can at least crawl under the comforter in his bedroom to keep warm, and then he remembers that he can’t fix the defroster in the van without some form of income. Goddamn Rick for getting pinched again so soon after the last time. Eddie’s more than a little concerned that the next time he gets picked up it’s going to be for longer than the usual 90 days in lock up. How many strikes has it been? Surely more than three. Eventually Magistrate Johnson won’t be able to turn him loose on the good people of Roann County, even if that means facing the wrath of Rick’s favorite second cousin who also happens to be his wife. 

It could be worse, he could be working at the arcade still. It was 4 blissful hours behind the cash register before that red headed kid, Brant?, puked all over Donkey Kong. Eddie had a fleeting thought that he might be able to handle the situation, and then the smell hit him square in the face. He was out the door before Keith could get the mop from the back room, reaching back in to leave his name tag on Pac-Man as an afterthought.

Of course he knows that vomit can happen anywhere, but Eddie is fully prepared to immediately quit any job that requires him to get up close and personal with someone else’s bodily fluids. Technically, it’s a part of his side work to clean the bathrooms at the DQ after close, but technically, no one ever fucking checks, so technically, it’s the problem of whoever opens the next day. It doesn’t matter, this job is just a placeholder. Well, that’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Eddie climbs up into the cab and turns the key. The old girl coughs back, but ultimately turns over. He kisses the ends of his fingers and pats the dash. Good girl. He cranks the defroster while saying a little prayer that maybe it fixed itself overnight. Regardless, he needs that air to keep the windshield from fogging up while he makes his 15 minute commute to the edge of town. It’s a blizzard out there, and the irony isn’t lost on him. Driving in a blizzard to serve blizzards for $3 an hour.

—

“There he is,” Eddie can hear Lynn before he can see her. He’s late again. 

“Sorry,” Eddie calls as he shakes the snow off his jacket. He grabs an apron that’s just clean enough to not give him the heebie jeebies, and heads towards the front of the store. “The roads suck, maybe we should just shut it down for the night…”

Lynn is standing at the cash register, but she’s not alone. A customer is standing in front of her, and not just any customer. It’s you. Eddie slows his steps and lowers his head, as if he could disappear behind the curtain of his curls. 

“Eddie, can you please get your ass over here and take over the register? I need to get home before the babysitter decides to take off. Three days in a row, Munson.” Lynn doesn’t wait for Eddie to acknowledge her words, she’s pushing her way through the kitchen to the back door while he’s still tying his apron strings.

Eddie takes in a breath and looks up to meet your eyes. He’s pleased to see you still looking at the menu above his head so he can scan your face unobserved. You got your hair cut since he last saw you; it’s sitting on your shoulders under your blue knit hat. 

“Can I get a small Oreo blizzard -” you bring your gaze down to the person standing at the cash register and “- Oh, Eddie. I didn’t know you work here.”

It’s a blur, the next 10 minutes. As soon as it’s over, he couldn’t tell you what he said. The only thing he knows is that there’s heat in his cheeks even after he watches your back go through the front door of the store holding the paper cup of ice cream. If you had asked him before this interaction tonight, he would have pegged you as an M&M blizzard person. 

Eddie remembers that you liked M&Ms. You sometimes ate them secretly in Algebra class when Mrs. Harrison wasn’t watching. He would watch you reach into the front pocket of your backpack to get a piece of candy, and place it on the end of your red tongue. Just the memory is making the front of Eddie’s jeans uncomfortably tight. 

He sighs to himself, you’re not a goddamned teenager, Eddie. He’s looking out into the empty parking lot as your red brake lights disappear in the swirling snow. It really is stupid to be selling ice cream in this weather. The dining room is empty. Hell, the roads are empty. And you’re as hard as a rock, Munson.

Logic is out the window now, his erection is running the show while he prepares the ice cream treat. Not Oreo, but M&M. He tries not to consider that the smell of vanilla soft serve is making him even harder as the vibrations of the blizzard machine travel up his arms. He’s not thinking about where this is inevitably going to end.

Eddie locks the doors - front, side, and back - all with the blizzard clutched in his hand. Vanilla ice cream is melting down the palm of his hand. He scans the street again, only to continue to see no signs of life. He sighs in relief that there are no witnesses to what he’s about to do.

He allows himself to have a brief feeling of regret about not cleaning the bathroom thoroughly before pushing the thought out of his mind. It’s not that bad. Not really. Besides, his back is staying firmly against the door. It’s locked. He lets himself envision your open mouth, tongue peeking between lips. With his free hand, he feels the outline of his erection and moans.

Ice cream is dripping on the floor as he unzips his jeans and frees himself. He brings the ice cream to his mouth and his tongue laps at it. He strokes himself. He licks at the cold, sugary treat. He squeezes and bites the lip of the paper cup. Sticky melted ice cream runs down his chin while he runs his thumb over his slit. 

He doesn’t think about it. It’s instinct. His erection shrinks at that initial shock of cold, and then he gets his rhythm. The cup is too small to accommodate his entire length, but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He’s thrusting as hard as he can, his cock threatening to break through the bottom of the paper cup. 

Oh, Eddie! I didn’t know you worked here. You look so good. Eddie’s eyes are closed tight. He sees you with that blue knit hat on your knees in front of him. Mmmm, M&Ms, my favorite. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can come just at the image of your open mouth. Your tongue.

Eddie’s hips thrust into vanilla ice cream with crushed candy bits while his jeans are dropped around his ankles until he unloads his need into the back of that paper cup. He’s left with an M&M and jizz blizzard dripping down his thighs at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday evening in a fairly disgusting DQ bathroom. 

“Fuck it,” Eddie says, pulling up his jeans over his sticky legs. He wipes up most of the ice cream and M&M pieces from the tile floor, it would be wrong to make Lynn clean that up tomorrow. He leaves his apron and name tag on the counter before walking out the back door. 

Maybe Johnny over at the Shell is looking for a clerk.

[yourmamakira]

"FIGHTING WORDS" Carl Grimes, she/her

Set in the Alexzandria Era after Carl lost his eye. His very protective girlfriend overheard the local kids talking about Carl behind his back. and needless to say, no one had anything to say about Carl ever again. [ANGST, to SLIGHT FLUFF]

Carl has been in a coma for weeks. His girlfriend had never left his side after the incident. Her depression had gotten so bad it took Daryal, Glenn and Rick to hold her down to force her to eat and drink water.

Her mood had deteriorated drastically, she was more angry, she was less active, she never smiled anymore and she didn't know who to blame for what happened to Carl. She knew it wasn't right to Blame others for the accident. but she had nearly lost the one thing keeping her going in this Hell that used to be a world, she had every right to be upset.

she sat in the armchair next to the bed Carl lay in peacefully, she slipped between sleep and alert wake. She didn't even let the nurse come into the room to check on Carl unless absolutely necessary, and when anyone else was in beside her and Carl, her hand stayed on her and Carl's Gun that slept in her holster.

her eyes shot open and her hand bolted to her gun as the door to their room swung open. In walked the one and only Daryl Dixon, and for once he was without his crossbow. he walked in with his usual gruff demeanor and closed the door behind him.

The girl took her hand off her guns and crossed her arms as she returned to watching the sleeping Carl.

Darryl came over and sat in the seat opposite of her. he crossed his arms before speaking.

"You need to go outside. He ain't wakin' up any sooner with you watchin' him like a hawk. He ain't goin' nowhere, and you don't have to go that far. Jus' needs to get outta this room."

You glared at him through your hooded eyes. but inevitably he was right. carl had been like this for weeks and every second you watched him it felt like your body was slipping farther into a black hole.

Daryal then spoke again, "You need to be in your best health for when he wakes up. you need ta' take care of em', not him take care of you. how you gon take care of him like this?"

he had you stumped with his words. he was right, how were you going to take care of Carl and you couldn't even take care of yourself?

you let out a sigh and began to get up, he followed suit but then stopped you by holding out his hand. you huffed while rolling your eyes and took your guns out of your holster. he didn't know about the knife in your boot thank goodness, but knowing him he probably did.

you passed him up with a glare while leaving the house and strolling out into the street you hadn't seen in weeks. There wasn't much to do here. Besides the few teens that roamed, but you mainly kept to yourself and Carl.

you never really talked much these days, nothing worth talking about. Many thought you were mute at first meeting you, but that narrative quickly went out the window whenever you got too upset. Memory's of all the times someone had pissed you off to bad and you cussing up a storm regardless the person.

you walked the streets passing by people and not saying a word. You came up to a small bench and decided to take a seat and just take in the fresh air, you had to admit, it did feel nice on your skin to feel the breeze and not that stuffy old room that felt more like a prison rather a room.

a few minutes had passed and you had begun to get up being done with your reminiscence before you spotted a group of teens headed your way.

You despised these inhabitants of Alexandria greatly, and their children were even more unbearable. You started past them before one of them decided to take it upon himself to cat-called you, despite you clearly being madly in love with Carl, these specific group just love to torment you.

"Hey, Miss Mute! How about I show you what a real man looks like in bed while your one eyed freak of a boyfriend's out!" He and his friends cackled like hyenas while shoving him around, as if what he said was the greatest thing in the world.

you slowly spun around and sneered, you decided to brush off his remark of the incident, knowing nothing good would come out of beating his ass, "Your tiny shrimp dick doesn't even come close to a real man. My one eyed freak of a boyfriend at that." he stopped laughing and his gooneys ooed like kindergarteners.

He tilted his head to the side as he stepped closer then he should have. "The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?" You stepped closer to him and you could feel his stank breath up your nose, it made you want to vomit on the spot. But you continued to talk your shit.

"I said, you have a big ass head, and a small as Dick. Your breath also smells like walker ass. need I say more?" Your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows furrowed.

his face contorted into one of anger, he scoffed then chuckled dryly as if he thought a funny thought in his fucked up head.

He raised his hand and tried to touch your hair, but you moved your face and roughly grabbed his arm putting it behind his back so he couldn't move. you then put pressure on his back as he cried out loudly in pain.

"you ever touch me again, and I will fucking kill you!"you yelled out aggressively. You were not in the mood to be fucked with.

He couldn't even respond with words as he just continued to cry like a baby for anyone that would dare to help him.

His friends all backed up out of fear of being next. They started yelling at you to let him go but you didn't listen and continued to nearly break his arm.

He yelled louder as your pressure increased. Your face hot with anger that he even dared to touch you after making a nasty comment about your boyfriend.

You then heard yells of a few adults calling you name but you still didn't let up.

Then out of no where two pairs of strong arms grabbed your arms and you thrashed in their hold.

The boy you had previously had in a hold jumped up to his feet and held his arm in pain, "you crazy bitch! That bullet should have Killed Your boyfriend!"

He yelled out and suddenly your thrashing stopped, you looked up at him with a dark look and his face went cold. He knew he had fucked up.

You harshly ripped your arms away from your holders and ran up to the boy with a flying fist, it knocked him on the ground and you kept on punching. His face become black and blue and Messy with blood, your knuckles ached but you didn't care.

It took a total of four adults to pry you away from the nearly unconscious boy, but by then you had already lost all cool.

You stopped struggling in their hold and spit on the boy you had just beat to a pulp.

Your breathing was irratic and it became very clear to everyone that you were extremely unstable. You caught your breath and spoke down darkly to the boy who cried out in pain. He spotted you stepping one step closer and backed up out of fear.

"If you, or anyone else is this god dam town, ever speak bad about Carl ever again. Your gonna wish your sorry asses became walkers after i'm through with you! Do you FUCKING HEAR ME??"

The boy nodded vigorously as more and more people came over to stare at you with fear.

You yanked your arms away from the men and everyone backed up and cleared you a path as you turned around to go back to you and Carl's room.

You made it up there and slammed the door and began pacing back and forth. You were so Pumped with adrenaline that you didn't even notice the empty bed where Carl laid before.

The door swung open and in came a seething Daryl, followed by a worried Glenn and a Very Concerned Maggie.

Daryl came over to stand infront of you and you mean mugged him. He gave you a harsh push and you feel backwards into a chair.

Maggie and Glenn both Yelled but their cries went Unheard by the both of you. You death gripped the arm rests of the chair you sat in as you glared up at the yelling Man that had became your father figure over the course of this apocalypse.

"I told your ass to take a walk! Not Pumble some kids face in! Now That kids gonna need Stitches that we don't have Just because you couldn't control your Anger over some Dam words! Now I heard what them kids said to you, what they said about Carl. But what if That dam wanna be president decided to Kick you out because you beat up some kid they thought was innocent?! You don't think before you Hit! And we can't have that type of stupidity in this world! Get your fuckin' act together! Or you're gonna be in some deep fuckin' shit."

He left off with those words and left behind a shaking and teary eyed child on the Chair. Your leg bounced rapidly as tears fell from your eyes but no sound came out.

You didn't know any other way to let out what you were feeling besides violence. It was your only option given that Carl wasn't in a good shape to calm you down like he usually would.

You were unknowingly left alone in the room and that left you with your thoughts. You stood up and began throwing, kicking and breaking everything and anything in the room that could be thrown kicked or broken.

You continued until another voice entered the room, another voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Y/n..?"

You spun around and anyone could tell just by looking at you that you were not okay.

Your eye bags as eye bags, your hair was widely unkept, your knuckles bled from throwing things, hitting things and beating the shit out of kids and unsuspecting walkers. You shook with every breath you let out, and your voice was raw from yelling into your pillow with Sobs you couldn't control.

Carl Slowly made his way into the room as he carefully walked to you like you were Fine China. He stopped right in front of you and then suddenly encased your form.

You stood there for a few seconds, asking yourself in your loud head 'was this real?'

But as you felt the heat off his skin, the soft melancholy beat of his heart. And his soft But ragged breaths. You knew your boyfriend was real.

You slowly encased his body and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. You began sobbing, wetting his shirt like it was raining from the clouds.

Your loud sobs shook the house that you both occupied but You didn't care. Your throat became dryer and dryer and you sobs grew raspy as you clutched Carl Closer to your body.

You were a broken record falling apart without the other half that was the love of you life. Carl rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You continued to sob until you couldn't anymore. Your legs grew tired as your body grew heavy, you hadn't slept in days. And it was evident on your face.

His big hands cupped your face and used the pads of his thumb to wipe away any stray tears from your eyes, your hurt and abused soul seethed through your eyes and he could see what you had been going through with just a glance at your tear stained face.

He kissed your tears away with his chapped lips and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing leveled out after crying for hours in his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.

He laid down in the spot he had been for weeks and you laid on top of him. You looked into eachothers eyes until you couldn't keep them open anymore.

The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of each others breathing.

You knew you would have to deal with the consequences of what you had done, but you could deal with them later.

Now? The two puzzles peices had finally clicked back together where they belonged, and as long as you had Carl. You didn't care what was next. As long as whatever it was, was beside him.

HIIII, this chapter is kinda sad, sadder then I usually write at least, and this had more reader then Carl so I'm sorry about that but I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you wanna see more of Mr grimes please request and I'll get back to you :3

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3

Home [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy

Summary: Living in the woods in a small cabin with your family was something you thoroughly enjoyed. You knew Daryl needed this; space and time to process the loss of Rick - and of course, to search for him. But then your family gets forced to return back to your original home - and the reason couldn't be sweeter...

Warnings: TWD stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, fluff, pregnancy stuff & 'complications', throwing up, dad!Daryl

The Whisperer Era!

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: I promised you some sweet pregnancy fluff and here it is! I hope ya'll don't mind the angst... 👀

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ya okay?" You nodded shakily and tried to wrap the old, rugged blanket even tighter around your body. "Yeah, jus' cold," you answered - as if it wasn't obvious that the probably harshest winter in decades raged outside the factory you, Daryl, Teddy and Dog sought shelter in. Not that you didn't know that it was kinda risky to travel in that weather. Both, you and Daryl knew that a snowstorm was most likely approaching and yet the archer took the risk and led you away from the cosy small hut, hidden in the woods your little family called home for over two years. Not anymore. But you could understand your man's kinda headless act...

Daryl clenched his jaw; worried eyes scanning your whole body, before he quickly slid the black, greyish poncho he wore over his head and went to wrap it around you as well. But you shook immediately your head and reached out your hand to hold him back. "No, Daryl... Keep it. You'll get cold. I-I don't want you to freeze to death." "I ain't freezin' to death, don worry," he said and draped the poncho over your body. "Gotta keep ma family warm and safe..." The archer's eyes darted shortly to his nine-year-old son, laying snugly bundled up in a warm sleeping bag you had found quite some time ago; Dog nestled against the boy's side. Teddy had draped an arm over the faithful canine; both sleeping soundly.

"All of ya," he stated firmly and pressed his palm against your presumably three-month baby bump.

You swallowed hard, but nodded; knew exactly what was on the line.

Unlike your pregnancy with Teddy, was your second one anything but easy - so far. Nausea, circulation problems, agonising back pain. Not to mention that the world around you was different ten years ago... It caused uneasiness, especially upon Daryl. He was worried... You could tell. And when you started to have bleedings now and then, he totally lost it and intended to take you back to Alexandria immediately; let Siddiq have a look.

The archer knew how to stitch up a wound or how to treat a cold - but not how to check on a unborn baby.

Daryl gave you another nod and pressed a sweet kiss, mixed with fear and worry against your lips. "Try ta sleep, sunshine. I'll check the doors 'n look after the fire. Can't let it burn out..." "I'll try, but..." You responded and freed one arm from the cocoon of blankets to grab his gloved hand. "... what about you? You should sleep, too, sweetie."

Daryl squeezed your hand gently, "'M fine." and carefully tucked you in once again, before he grabbed his torchlight and went to check for the doors.

You knew that arguing with him would be most likely in vain anyways, so you didn't even start.

Letting your eyes wander to Teddy and Dog for a long moment to check on them, you smiled and felt how your eyelids got heavier with each passing second. It didn't take you long to fall asleep.

Unfortunately, lasted the heavenly state you were in not very long. Your churning stomach ripped you out of your peaceful sleep. You immediately felt uneasiness and the first wave of nausea creeping up on you. You sighed.

Not again... Not another sleepless night...

You swallowed; tried to get rid of the lump in your throat, but it was no help. Shifting around in discomfort, you knew that you had to get up and search for a - wow, that sounded so wrong and weird - fitting place to most likely vomit your guts out.

Rubbing your eyes frustrated, you slowly slipped out of the warm cocoon; feeling the cold hit you immediately. You shivered; draped at least one blanket back around you, over the already thick woollen poncho you wore. Then you scanned your surroundings; saw Teddy and Dog a few meters away from you still sleeping soundly and heard the peaceful crackling of the fire. But then...

"Y/N..." Daryl - of course. You heard footsteps approaching you; causing you to turn into the right direction. "Why 'r ya awake?" Your long-term boyfriend asked; noticing immediately the uneasy look on your face.

"Everythin' alright?" His palms cupped your waist. You shook your head; swallowing hard once more - and Daryl knew. It wasn't the first time. "Nausea?" "Y-Yeah..." The archer nodded, "C'mere." and slowly guided you out of what once probably was the main production hall and into a little side room, which looked like a former office. A more or less completely destroyed office. Files, folders, other papers and usual office stuff laid every which way around the room. Several cupboards were moved or thrown over - just like two of the three desks.

Daryl quickly freed an office chair, while you steadied yourself against the last remaining intact desk and helped you sit down. Then his eyes scanned the quite spacious room; torchlight in hand. Once he found the object he desired, the archer made sure you weren't threatening to fall off the chair and climbed above some 'obstacles' to retrieve an old trash can he had spotted. Whatever was left inside said trash can landed on the ground, before he placed it on the floor in reach for you.

Kneeling down in front of you, Daryl took one of your hands in his; blue-greyish eyes meeting yours. You smiled through your uneasiness and lifted your free hand to tuck a loose, stray curl of chestnut brown hair behind his ear. "T-Thank you," you whispered.

Daryl just gave you one of those sweet smiles of his. You took deep breaths; eyes falling shut to focus on not losing your balance. Dizziness had joined the game.

Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you weakly gestured for the trash can. "D-Daryl, h-have to-" Before you were able to finish your sentence, your man had swiftly moved over and helped you holding the makeshift vomit bag. Not a second too early.

While you indeed puked your guts out, Daryl's other hand switched between steadying you and rubbing soothing circles in your back.

Once your nausea calmed down again, you wiped your mouth with a rug Daryl gave you; taking again deep breaths. "Feelin' better?" You nodded. "Y-Yeah... Jus' still a bit dizzy." Your boyfriend helped you to get back to the main hall, of course, where he sat down; leaning against one of the walls and gesturing for you to get comfortable as well - something you didn't let yourself tell twice. After all, it was a long, cold, hard day of walking and you were tired. Plus, you had just emptied your stomach entirely.

You sat down on the blanket between Daryl's legs and leaned against his chest; cuddling close. He helped you draping the two old blankets around you (and him); trying to give you as much warmth as possible.

"Ya warm enough, sunshine?" You nodded; smiling softly. "With you cuddling me? Yes." Daryl's arms gave you a gentle squeeze in response.

Silence settled over the both of you - until the archer broke it; ripping you away from the entrance of dreamland.

"M sorry." You blinked; trying to focus again. "Sorry? For wha'?" You could tell that he was either swallowing hard or chewing on his bottom lip. Probably both. "Tis. You feelin' like shit." You frowned, "Why would you be sorry for that?" and turned your head; trying to look at him. He was chewing on his bottom lip. "Well... 'S kinda my fault. If... If I wouldn't have got ya pregnant..." You raised an eyebrow at him and couldn't help the giggle, which slipped past your lips. "Sweetie..." You started; nuzzling your head against his chest. "Don't pretend it isn't a welcome accident. And once we're back in Alexandria, Siddiq can help me. So, stop being sorry."

You felt Daryl's hold tightening around you. "M trying, sunshine. 'S just... I want ya 'n the baby ta be okay." "We will be."

The storm had subsided through the night - luckily. The roads were completely covered in snow; making it for the whole family difficult to move fast - and it kept on snowing... Especially Dog and Teddy were struggling, since they had the shortest legs.

Daryl was at the front; trying to pave a way, but he couldn't do it the entire way to Alexandria. He was strong - but not that strong.

"Dad!" Teddy called out to Daryl, causing the archer to immediately stop in his tracks and turn around. His son pointed across a field on a group of walkers. Ten. Probably even twenty. "Sickos!" Daryl narrowed his eyes; watching them for a long moment, before addressing his son again. "Let 'em be, buddy! They can't move. Least not fast. Snow's too high. Even for them." The nine-year-old gave him a nod; almost causing the blueish beanie on his head to slip into his face.

You had watched the scene, being 'squashed' between your two 'men', while Dog was glued to your side; not leaving you out of his sight. You scratched the faithful canine's head in a loving manner. "C'mon, sunshine. We have ta keep goin'." You nodded and kept on following your man; always making sure to look over your shoulder to not lose your son. Although you knew that you wouldn't. After all was Daryl Dixon his father. He had taught his boy well. That was the reason why he trusted him to walk at the end of the line. To make sure you were safe. And Teddy did his 'job' perfectly. All of you arrived cold and freezing, but safely at the gates of Alexandria.

Michonne was on guard duty this cold December afternoon. She narrowed her eyes when she saw a small group approaching her home. Taking the binoculars on the wooden ground beneath her, the leader took a quick look through it - and smiled. Probably the brightest smile she smiled since RJ's birth. "Open the gates!"

"Who is it?" Aaron called back up to her from the ground; slightly worried. Michonne turned to face her friend. "Family."

The doors got immediately opened for you and your family to enter your old home. A place you loved and held so many beautiful memories of.

Aaron was already greeting everyone, when Michonne had climbed down the guard tower. "Daryl, Y/N, Teddy! How long has it been?" She asked; still smiling brightly and immediately went to hug Daryl. "Two years," answered the archer. "Way too long if you ask me," Michonne answered and gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder. Then she looked over the archer's shoulder; spotting the not so little boy anymore, who started to look more and more like a spitting image of his father. "Teddy?" Michonne stepped forward to squat down and hug him. "Look at how big you got since I lastly saw you!" Teddy just giggled shyly; hugging the woman back. "Hello, Michonne," he then whispered. Well, he was his father's son... "Jude will be happy to see you."

Then Michonne stood up to face you. Last but not least. "Y/N..." You grinned at her and quickly ran to hug your friend. "Hey, Mich. It's so good to see you." She squeezed you against her body. "Likewise..."

After inviting you all inside, since it was really getting cold by now and welcoming little RJ as well, you all sat by the fireplace in the living room with a cup of tea in hands.

Teddy and Judith sat at the kitchen table, drawing and RJ had slept in on Michonne's lap. Dog had curled up beside Daryl, who sat on the floor and leaned against the sofa; getting head scratches from his master. You sat beside Michonne; still wrapped up in Daryl's poncho and cup in hands.

"So... Why are you here? Just to visit, or...?" Your friend asked; clearly curious, but also kinda hopefully.

You exchanged a short look with Daryl; his lips curling into the soft, sweet smile you loved so much. "Y/N needs ta pay Siddiq a visit." Michonne frowned; was immediately alerted and not noticing the subtle smile on both your faces. "Is everything alright?!" "Well..." You started; pulling Daryl's poncho over your head. Michonne's eyes widened to the size of plates as you cupped your small, yet clearly visible baby bump. "You... You're pregnant?!" You nodded; smiling and reached for Daryl's hand, who happily accepted the offer. He enveloped your smaller hand and gave it a gentle squeeze; all the while exchanging another loving gaze with you.

A happy laugh escaped your friend's lips. "That's wonderful, you two! Congrats!" You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear; smiling bashfully. "Thanks, Mich. It was a beautiful surprise, but..." You swallowed; remembering that this pregnancy wasn't remotely comparable to the one with Teddy. "Being pregnant now is a whole other thing than ten years back..."

You felt how Michonne's hand landing on your free hand. "I know, Y/N, but I made it, too. You, Daryl, Teddy and Dog are more than welcome to stay here. You know that. And Siddiq will be at your side, too."

You nodded. "I-I know, but... I don't just mean that the whole circumstances changed. I mean the pregnancy itself as well..." "She's been havin' bleedings lately. 'S why we're here," Daryl jumped in. "That's why we packed our stuff and left our other home." Your man nodded. "Worried the shit outta me the last days..."

Michonne swallowed as well and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "This doesn't have to mean anything, you know that. But Siddiq should definitely check. Go to him. Now. I'll stay with the kids and Dog."

You exchanged another look with Daryl. He gave you a nod. "Michonne's right. Better do it righ' away."

So that's what you did.

Siddiq welcomed you, of course, back with open arms and went immediately to work. Especially after you told him about the pregnancy and bleedings.

Luckily was your baby alright and healthy - as far as the doctor could tell.

"But... What caused the bleedings then?" You asked; sitting up and straightening your sweater. "I unfortunately can't tell. This just happens sometimes, but I'd like to keep an eye on this. As for you... You should rest a few days and do as little as you can. And-" He reached over to a little shelf and grabbed a small bottle with pills. "Take these prenatal vitamins." You nodded and took the vitamins. "Alright, doc. Thank you." Siddiq smiled, "Of course." then looked at Daryl. "Make sure she takes them and rests." "Oh, definitely. Ya ain't have ta worry 'bout that." "Good."

Since the news of your arrival spread quickly, was the rest of the day spent with meeting and reconnecting with old friends and family members. It was wonderful and you couldn't be happier; the difficulties of the pregnancy forgotten for a while.

It was already quite late when Daryl slipped underneath the warm sheets to join you; wrapping both his arms around your body and pressing his bare chest against your back; accompanied by a kiss on your neck.

"Daryl?" You whispered into the darkness; searching for his hand which was resting on your little baby bump. "Yeah?" He answered immediately; instinctively pulling you even tighter against him. "I'm happy to be back here. Don't get me wrong, please. I love to be out there with you and our boys, but... I have to admit that I love being here as well. Alexandria is home... Always will be."

There was a short moment of silence, before Daryl spoke up as well. "I get what ya mean, sunshine," he started. "Me too. 'S all about you 'n the baby now. Yer all safe... 'N that what matters most."

You smiled; gazing out of the window and slipped your fingers through Daryl's. "Yeah..."

Tags: @suniloli @stitchintimefan @in-this-minute @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @fuseburner @mandywholock1980 @celtic-crossbow @mischief-dream @lou12346789 @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @sweetz1919 @erebus-et-eigengrau

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 61

part 1 | part 60 | ao3

cw: mentions of canonical minor character death

Chapter 14

It's twilight by the time they make their way to Rick's place — gnat clouds swarming, sun dipped low, Lover's Lake an inky smudge beyond the blur of passing pines. Steve’s not totally sure how they got here, this dusty service road that's more pothole than pavement; one minute he's bitching about doomed love and double VHS, the next he’s taking the scenic route to a drug den.

There were some important moments in between, he’s pretty sure.

He’s also pretty sure he blacked out somewhere around the moment the morning news reported that an-unidentified-Hawkins-student-who-very-well-could-be-Eddie-Munson was found dead in his fucking trailer.

Kinda difficult to resurface from that one.

Feels like his soul’s got swimmer’s ear.

Even hours later — after Dustin and Max burst into Family Video talking a mile a minute about how Eddie was alive and they needed to use the phones; after Ernie stupidly gave a reporter Steve’s name, swearing up and down on the TV that his neighbor Steve Harrington was an upstanding young man who would never do something like this; after they spent an agonizingly long afternoon lying low and taking backroads to avoid the cops because the cops probably suspect Steve of murder now, oh god—

“It’s this next right up ahead,” Max says from the back seat. There's a map spread over the bench between her and Dustin, and Steve blinks himself awake; gives her a nod in the rearview.

Beside her, Dustin’s munching on Twizzlers he stole from the store — window down, easy slouch, just way too chipper for the situation at hand. "So Steve," he says conversationally, "now that you're a fugitive, does that mean—?"

Steve cuts Robin a pleading look.

Robin reaches back and smacks the little twerp upside the head.

"Ow!" Dustin whines.

"Shut up, please," Robin smiles.

Max makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh and checks the map again. "Right here," she says, pointing. "After that weird tree stump."

They turn onto another road that could be generously described as paved, once, several decades ago, and eventually, the winding path lets out onto a slightly nicer street. Aging but cared for, Holland Road is a crowded row of little lake houses, trailers and shacks with manicured shrubs and chipped fence paint, weeds growing through the sidewalks beneath pristine American flags. Steve pulls into the driveway of #2121.

It looks abandoned. Dark inside and out, a truck parked on the curb that's likely been there for a while, its tires sagging in a mulch of old wet leaves. There’s an autumn wreath on the front door.

“You sure this is the place?” he asks as they climb out of the car.

Max sasses him for questioning her navigation skills, Dustin unsuccessfully tries to land a revenge slap on Robin — a move that earns him a retaliation wedgie and a wrestling match he was never gonna win — and Steve pops the trunk and feels a hundred years old. Feels every bit the exhausted dad trying to keep the family road trip together as he grabs his nail bat and slings his duffel over his shoulder.

"You planning to spend the night?" Dustin teases from Robin's armpit, still bent double where she's got him in a headlock.

"No, just-" he drops the bag at their feet with a grunt, “doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

Dustin’s eyes bug out. “Is that a can of goddamn bear mace?”

“Keep your voice down!” Steve hisses.

“You keep your voice down!”

"Should I just go ahead and choke him out?" Robin offers.

Steve considers it for a second: knock 'em all out, stuff 'em back inside the car. Go do this shit quietly by himself.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.

"You're no fun," she pouts, but she lets Dustin go.

Dustin grabs flashlights and walkies out of the bag, passes them around the circle. They take a moment to steel themselves — huddled together in the dark, shoulders tense, the creepy house looming ahead. Sharp shadows stretch toward them. Croaking sounds creeping from the edges of the lake.

Robin puts her flashlight under her chin like she's about to tell a scary story. "Alright, kiddos," she says in a deep, ominous voice. "Let's go rescue Steve's ex."

Stunned silence in the sudden vacuum her words create. Steve lets out a tired sigh. Dustin’s jaw is on the curb.

“His WHAT?” Dustin shouts.

Oh, my god. “He’s not my ex."

Robin rolls her eyes and says ‘sure’ under her breath, and Max turns to Dustin, laughing. “You didn’t know they were a thing?”

“We’re not—” Steve tries again.

“What were you trying to get them back together for then?”

She seems genuinely curious. Dustin seems three seconds from spontaneous combustion. “What was I WHAT?!” he yelps, limbs everywhere. Reminds Steve of Eddie so bad it hurts.

“Okay,” Steve interrupts, clapping them both on the shoulder; drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “In case you two forgot, we’re here to rescue Eddie.”

“Who you’re dating.”

Dustin’s voice is small, disconnected, his gaze far away. Like he’s shellshocked.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I— Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

Max snorts at his answer, Dustin makes a series of faces like he's gonna need seven years to process, and Robin interrupts his crisis by waving her flashlight like a traffic guard, walking backward up the hill as she directs them toward the house.

“Why don’t we just go find him first?” she suggests, making a rainbow with her hands, flinging light through the grimy windows. “And then Stevie here can answer alllll your big gay questions.”

Steve glares at Robin. Dustin glares at him, narrowed eyes for a full ten seconds like 'yeah, you fucking better,' and then he takes off up the driveway hollering Eddie's name.

—

part 62

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[angelyuji]

yandere rick sanchez headcanons

(obviously very ooc… like im taking his worst characteristics and turning the dial to 100)

cw // spoilers for literally the entire show, noncon, stalking, kidnapping, torture, being kept like a pet, drugging

18+

RAUEIA:ADOBAIDHJO?S{DH*}

canonically big dick like i need him BAD

guys im so in love with this old fucker

season 1+2 rick would definitely just keep you around for sex

the only reason he hasn’t gotten rid of you is cuz you’re a “good fuck”

literally treats you like an object or a cute little pet

“e-eat.” rick places a plate on a table he brought for you. he moves away to type on some computer. all you remember is a green portal in your room and a man you had never met dragging you out of bed. the room you were in was filled with computers and equipment. he didn’t bother to tie you up.

you don’t move, hearing your silence, rick turns to look at you. he burps, “i-i-i bring you some food out of the goodness of my h-heart and you’re not going to eat it?” you don’t answer. “s-s-stupid fucking b-bitch.” he moves over to grab you by the hair and pulls you closer to the table. “eat the fucking food.” you scream, your scalp searing in pain, as he shoves your face onto the table.

s1+2 rick kinda feels like the type to peer-pressure you into a drinking or doing drugs because he can

like he’d definitely force you to some alien drugs just cuz he can or cuz you’re not as resistant when you’re high off your balls

but season 3 and onward??? oh he’s so obsessed with you

let me explain this personality change

by season 3, rick is starting to care for his family so if you meet him after the whole federation prisoner arc of his, he’s more of like a clingy wet cat vibe… like imagine wisp the cat…. guys i lowkey cooked with that comparison

he’s allowed himself to care for his family (even sometimes jerry)

so when he meets you, this sweet, kind, beautiful person. he wants to protect you. he wants to keep you safe from all the shit that happens to the people in his life

constantly checks on you, calling and texting you daily. he always tries to play it off as a butt-dial

‘sdas’ you’re at work when your phone buzzes as rick’s text comes through. you look at the gibberish, roll your eyes, and continue working. 15 minutes later, a green portal flashes open next to you. everyone jumps in surprise, looking at the portal as rick walks through. “why didn’t you text me back?” rick grabs your arm, looking pissed. you look around, embarrassed.

you lower your voice to a hush, “you texted me gibberish? what exactly was i supposed to text back?” his grip on your bicep tightens and you wince.

“i-it was an accident, but y-you didn’t text back and i was worried.” rick starts to pull you into the portal, but you stand your ground.

“rick, i’m working. you have to go.” rick’s face darkens at your words, but he lets go when your coworker comes up to you.

“is everything alright?” she looks concerned and alarmed at rick’s appearance, and he rolls his eyes.

“(y/n) here, didn’t answer my text so i got worried.” rick pulls you into a tight hug and whispers into your ear, “next time, text me back.”

builds you a bunch of stuff to keep you safe like a chip that insta-kills anyone that it detects to be bothering you

that first week of meeting you, he had broken into your house at night and planted a tracker in your skin when you were sleeping, so he knows where you are at all times

during the whole killing rick-prime arc, he was so scared that you would get hurt or prime would come after you

he didn’t want to lose you like how he lost diane and beth :(

“baby, come on, it’s for your safety.” rick pleads as you slam your hands against the force field.

“SO YOU TRAP ME IN A CAGE????” you scream as rick presses a hand against the wall.

“it-it’s just for your protection, baby, i can’t lose you too.”

“FUCK YOU, RICK. I SWEAR WHEN YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE, WE’RE DONE.” you wouldn’t stop screaming at him. morty watches, uncomfortably.

“are-are you sure this is okay, rick?” rick’s face is unreadable as he registers your words.

“it-it’s fine, morty. i just won’t ever let them out.”

rick also seems like the type to have a breeding kink, but like with the no kids yk (this mf does NOT want more kids) (especially after the whole ghia incident)

like he doesn’t use condoms and he doesn’t pull out, because he likes marking you as his from the inside.

he would definitely have a marking kink like hickeys, love bites, collars, anything that shows the world that you’re taken by him

rick’s hands caress you as you struggle in your bonds.

“i’m sorry, baby, so so-sorry.” he buries his head in your shoulder, sucking at your nape. his hands start to pull at your pants and you struggle harder. he pulls away from your neck to leave wet kisses down your chest, “i know, i know, i’m sorry, sweetie. you just looks so cute, so sw-sweet. it’s really not my fault.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 30

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of afterbirth; Breastfeeding; Newborn bodily functions; Scars and allusions to past child abuse.

A/N: Fuck me sideways, I have struggled to write since all this shit in my personal life. This chapter is pretty boring but I guess there are some fluffy aspects. And Thumper gets a name.

The tiny creature that had just been shrieking in Hershel’s grasp, was now rooting around angrily while you studied every perfect little inch of her. Her skin was pink beneath the drying, waxy mess of vernix caseosa—or whatever Hershel had called it—and blood. The old man had said if he had to guess, he would put her at about six pounds. Hilarious since she felt like she weighed thirty while you carried her. 

Her round little face scrunched up before she wailed again, disturbed from her meal-seeking venture by Carol leaning around Daryl to drape a blanket over her. When you looked up to smile at him, you found the archer studying his baby like he wasn’t quite certain about something. 

“What is it?” You asked, moving the blanket a little so he could see her better. 

“S’just—” He reached toward the bundle but withdrew. “Feels like—feels like she ain’t real.” You could see the tears brimming on his waterline, crystal droplets shining beneath the pale yellow illuminance of the van’s interior overhead light; how he would squint instead of blink in an attempt to keep them from falling. 

“Daryl, you—ow.” You placed your hand on your lower abdomen, finding it tight within a cramp even if the skin itself was slightly looser. 

“Ow?” Daryl appeared panicked but was desperately trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It was so odd to see him constantly grappling for control over his emotions when he had always—for the time you’d known him—been so careful not to allow too much to show. 

The veterinarian checked the cord to find it no longer pulsing. The contractions you were having now were mild cramps compared to before, Hershel advising you that you would need to give up your hold on Thumper to deliver the afterbirth. The archer watched as you handed off Thumper to Maggie. You wondered if he even realized why you hadn’t given him a chance to hold his daughter yet. Regardless, it was immediately apparent he hadn’t been listening in the slightest—

“Just an easy push, Y/N.”

“Wait! What?!” Daryl shouted. Meanwhile, you were clenching your fists and bearing down. It wasn’t the worst pain but considering you had just pushed a tiny human out of the same opening, you were a tad bit sore.

“Good, good. I can see it. One more push.” 

Daryl’s hand wrapped around one of your fists. You uncurled your fingers and let his slip between them. “See what?! The fuck she pushin’ again for?” The archer gave no time for anyone to answer that particular question before he was crawling and leaning above the space between your knees—just in time for the placenta to exit your body while you groaned through the discomfort. “What the flyin’ blue fuck s’that?!”

“It’s alright, son.” 

“It’s okay, Daryl.” Carol repeated. 

The archer had gone white again, swaying slightly and swallowing convulsively while scooting back toward you on his ass. You tugged gently on his hand before anyone else could interfere. “Hey, tough guy. Look at her.” God, you were exhausted but keeping your partner grounded was your priority. He had a baby to meet. Daryl’s eyes shifted to you and then behind you to the infant over which Maggie was currently gushing.

“She’s perfect.” The elder Greene daughter chuckled through her own tears. 

The hunter stared at Thumper, the color slowly returning to his skin. “Rick!” He belted out suddenly. “We clear?”

“All clear for now.” The former deputy called back, even though there was little more than five feet separating them.

“Good. Stop.” 

“Stop?” Rick glanced back over his shoulder, once and then again. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Stop the van.” This time Daryl barked the command, growing irritated. He gently extricated his hand from yours, moved toward the door, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was obvious he was waiting for the vehicle to come to a halt.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” You queried while trying to divide your attention between him and Thumper being placed back against your skin. The baby began to squeak, working up to another bout of shrill cries before you shifted her, trying your hand at offering up a breast without any guidance. When her tiny mouth latched onto your nipple immediately, you felt a tugging sensation, but no pain like you had actually expected. 

“You’re a natural!” Carol exclaimed through her own tears and sniffles. 

Before you could offer comfort while the other woman was obviously distraught—likely reminiscing of the times just after the birth of Sophia—the van jolted to a stop and Daryl was opening the door, jumping out with his bag and crossbow, and closing it before you could say a word. 

“What’s happening?” You sat up just a little, your eyes wide. “Where’s he going? Rick?”

“Stay still. Relax.” Maggie cooed, dragging a finger tenderly down Thumper’s cheek. “Let her nurse. I’m sure Daryl’s got his reasons.” You nodded even though you weren’t truly satisfied with the answer. You were just simply too exhausted to think about it any further. Carol started handing Maggie blankets to roll up behind you. “We’re gonna getcha all cleaned up and as comfortable as we can until we can find somewhere safer, okay?”

“Just wrap this up until Daryl gets back.” Hershel spoke softly, placing a bloody blob of something onto a large piece of cloth before handing it to Carol. The sac was connected to Thumper by the slimy cord. 

“Do you think he’ll want to?” The other woman whispered. Sight and sound were starting to fizzle out. Your body was demanding rest, all reserves depleted. Thumper was suckling away, making the sweetest little snorting breaths between gulps. Maggie was wiping the sweat from your face and neck, sweeping the fabric back and forth over every inch of skin she could reach.

Hershel and Carol worked together to clean up the mess between your legs, the area swollen and sore and thank god you were so exhausted or that would have really hurt. When you opened your eyes again, you were covered with a blanket and Thumper was gone from your chest. 

“Thumps?!” You bolted upright, caught halfway by Hershel’s gentle hands on your shoulders. 

“She’s fine. You were quite out of it when she finished. Maggie tried to burp her but breastfed newborns don’t always need it. Now she’s there with Carol, getting cleaned up the best we can without warm water. The vernix caseosa can stay on her skin until she can have a good warm bath. It won’t do any harm. We just thought she could do without the other fluids.”

You nodded tiredly. “How long did I sleep?”

“Only about half an hour.” Carol answered, shuffling on her knees with the baby in her arms. “Rick grabbed the diapers from the truck and checked on everyone. She’s such a tiny thing, the newborn size almost swallows her.” She pulled the blanket away to place the baby against your skin and then covered her again with the small receiving blanket. Once Thumper settled, Carol pulled the thicker blanket over both of you. 

You felt your expression light up—casting shadows over your exhaustion—at the sight of that little face. God, she was tiny. The lack of blood revealed wisps of blonde hair, still molded flat in some places by the waxy covering. You could already see so much of Daryl in her that it—

“Where’s Daryl?”

As if summoned by his name on your lips, the van door opened to reveal the archer, clearly shivering. He tossed his bag and crossbow to the side and climbed in, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeved arms. He was clean, his hair wet while the strands appeared damn near frozen. His dirty clothing—vest and poncho included—was missing, likely in his pack. 

“Daryl Dixon, are you trying to end up with pneumonia again?!” Carol admonished. She shoved his bag out of the way quickly and tossed the last larger blanket around his shoulders. 

“C-c-couldn’a held ‘er like I w-w-was, right?” His teeth legitimately chattered, his gaze leaving Carol to look you over. “D-doin’ alright?”

You narrowed your eyes above the ghost of a smile. “Did you really go find a body of water to take a bath in the middle of winter?” 

“W-wouldn’a left ya but w-was d-d-dirty. Wanted t-to—wanna hold ‘er.” Once again, he was pale as milk but there was some color slowly seeping into his cheeks. Hershel wasn’t freaking out over his current state, so—contrary to the pressure threatening to choke you from the inside—you wouldn’t either. Daryl ran his tongue over colorless lips and ducked his head.  “If that’s alr-right?” 

Your mouth fell open, your brow furrowing while you blinked at him. Did he just— “Daryl, she’s your daughter. Of course you can hold her.” You were already moving an arm from beneath Thumper’s miniscule weight. When your hand found his, you pulled back with a hiss. “Maybe just get a little warmer first though, okay?” The archer nodded, but he still looked so uncertain. 

Hershel cleared his throat. He had remained still and silent throughout the exchange but then slowly crept down to sit on his knees at your hip. “In the meantime.” With a gesture toward Carol, he held out his hands. The cloth-clad placenta was placed onto his palms. It had apparently just been traveling around with Thumper wherever she roamed within the van. “Would you like to cut the cord, son?”

Still shivering but teeth no longer clicking together, Daryl’s expression molded into equal parts disgust and confusion. “The hell would I wanna do that?”

“It’s a tradition.” The old man explained. Carol was busy cleaning her knife with some rubbing alcohol. “It marks the start of life outside of the mother, when the father can begin to be physically involved in caring for the baby.”

The hunter brought his left thumb to his mouth, chewing on the side, granting a physical form to his inner anxiety. “Don’t it hurt ‘er?” You were curious as well, and you looked away from your partner to await the answer. 

“There are no nerves in the cord. She won’t feel a thing.”

Daryl drew back when Carol presented him with the knife. He looked to you. You shrugged a shoulder, careful not to jar Thumper. “It’s your decision.”

“Must be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or myself.” Hershel added. 

Lowering his hand from his teeth, Daryl eyed the knife. It was clear that he didn’t believe he wasn’t going to hurt his daughter. His thumb was replaced by his lower lip, jaw inching back and forth to gnaw at it earnestly. Without a word, he reached for the knife. Carol offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return. 

“Where do—how does it—”

“I’ll help you.” The veterinarian reassured, balancing the organ on top of one hand while the other lifted the cord. “Right between the tape.” 

“Don’t that leave some’a it?” Daryl’s throat was visibly working as he swallowed. 

“That will dry up and fall off. I’ll show you both how to care for it until that happens.” 

The exhale was audible, undoubtedly something he didn’t intend but also didn’t take notice. Daryl’s hand was shaking, the blade carefully pressed to slice upward and away from the skin of your newborn. You held your breath, afraid any movement or sound would cause her to stir. If Daryl accidentally nicked her, there’d be no consoling him.

The cut was clean and quick, Thumper remaining sound asleep throughout. Your head tipped back against your pillow of blankets, relief flooding through you in a tingling wave that left you once again feeling wrung out. Half an hour was not enough. You wanted to sleep for days. 

Turning your head was a chore, but worth it. Daryl was ignoring everything that was happening below the two of you, his eyes dancing between you and his daughter. “I know.” You whispered. His gaze found yours. “She’s finally here.” He nodded, his lips slightly parted with words he couldn’t seem to articulate. “It’s a lot, Daryl. I know. It’s okay.” 

He was trembling, but you were certain it was no longer from the cold. His entire world had just changed. He was a father, and—judging by the look on his face, the turmoil in his pretty eyes—he was terrified. 

“Do you wanna hold her?” Your question was met with a sharp inhale, his spine straightening. 

“I—” 

You were already shifting the baby, shushing and cooing when she squeaked and stretched in protest. 

“You should bond with her too, Daryl.” Carol was sitting against the interior wall, looking her own personal sort of tired. “If you feel comfortable, um—” She turned her head to look away entirely, staring at the opposite wall. “You should let her lay against your skin.”

Bless him, he looked as though he might hyperventilate. “What if—she might—don’t wanna scare ‘er.” Daryl stared at Thumper, her little head moving back and forth as you offered her to him. You wouldn’t tell him the baby was too little to be scared. That would only leave him wondering if she’d be afraid of him later, when she was older. He was so convinced that his scars would make his daughter fear him. 

That anger you had felt before, the inferno of rage that had boiled beneath your ribs—it was back. Had they been still alive, you would strangle those people that had hurt him, scarred him so deeply. Beyond physical. But they were dead. And you were there. You would do your damnedest to show him a different perspective. That he was good and not a product of his father’s anger or his mother’s absence. That he was loved. 

“She isn’t afraid and she won’t be, not of you.” You vowed, pulling Thumper in against your own chest once more. With a hand then free, you raised the blanket and slid over with a grunt. The pain wasn’t horrible but you were definitely sore. “Get under here with me first.”

Maybe one day, he would be beyond the urge to hide that part of himself. Until then, however, you were more than content to help him find any measure of comfort you could offer. 

Daryl hesitated, giving you a quick once over. “Won’t hurtcha?” 

You smiled, small and tired but genuine. “No. Now get under here. Don’t make me drag you while holding a newborn. You know I can do it.” You challenged playfully. Maybe you could lighten the atmosphere. With a pfft, he took the blanket from your hand and shed the one around his shoulders, his eyes darting over to Hershel and Carol. They had knowingly turned their backs. You almost wished they would leave but having someone knowledgeable there was a comfort you weren’t ready to be without. You had no idea what you were doing. Once he was settled, you did your best to pull up the blanket until he took over. “Unbutton your shirt?”

“Dunno if—”

“She already loves you, Daryl. You were the one to calm her down when she was river dancing on my intestines. Just—try?” He sighed, his fingers slowly working open the buttons before stalling. “If you’re too uncomfortable with it, we’ll fix it, okay? I’ll take her and then you can put her on top of your shirt.”

The deep breath he took trembled but he continued until he could part his shirt enough for his chest to be visible. Even with only your eyes on him, he began to exhibit obvious anxiety. 

“It’s only me.” You whispered while maneuvering Thumper. He could actually hold her later, when there weren’t four of you cramped up in the back of an old van with stow-and-go seats. 

The man looked like he was two seconds from sliding out from beneath the blanket and bolting—until the moment the baby’s skin finally touched his own. His wide eyes drained of any trace of fear to make room for awe. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Watching him closely, those two words were meant to be part of the internal monologue he had going on inside his head. His calloused hands had never looked so gentle, laying across Thumper’s back. He immediately lifted one and placed the other there instead with the previous palm resting on her little diapered bottom.

“She s’posed to be this small?” His voice cracked. You turned onto your side, slowly and stiffly, while he silently let his gaze wander over to watch you move. Wiggling to find a comfortable position, you settled with your head on his shoulder and your fingertips brushing repeatedly over Thumper’s head.

“Hershel said she probably weighs around six pounds.” 

“S’that okay?” His thumb was swiping back and forth through the slightly darker blonde hair on the back of the baby’s head. 

“She’s perfect.” 

“Yeah.” He agreed, quietly. His head was tilted, angled to be able to see the little face of the human he helped create. “I, uh—thank you.” You lifted your head to stare him down, quiet yet questioning. “Y’know—for her.”

Your expression softened. Your hand lifted from Thumper to Daryl’s chin, guiding his head to turn. Stifling the grunt of discomfort that moving caused, you shimmied up just enough to press your lips to his. It was chaste but no less passionate. 

“None of that for at least six weeks. Minimum.” Hershel chided from the back of the van. 

Daryl huffed in annoyance, only slightly turning away to bark out “the hell’s ‘er mouth got to do with anythin’?” You laughed in spite of yourself, the action jarring and uncomfortable. 

Hershel even chuckled. “I mean no further, son. No intercourse. She needs to heal.” 

Damnit. You knew at that very moment, it would take you twelve weeks to coerce Daryl into actual sex. God, if your vagina wasn’t ruined after pushing out a whole human. Oh well, you’d be fine as long as he was still yours. You blinked, eyes glazed and thoughts wandering. He would still want you, right?

“Gotta make things weird, old man? Christ.”

Shaking your head, you pushed those worries aside for later. He was now warm and you had your personal space heater back. You molded yourself to his side and willed your body to relax. Daryl was there. Your little family was safe. Sleep laid its claim on you within moments. 

“Claire?” You suggested. Your hand alternated between rubbing and patting the back of the frustrated infant on your shoulder, coaxing out a burp that vibrated your collarbone. Don’t always need it, indeed. While Daryl sat across from you on the bed, rubbing the length of his left index finger across his lips, you adjusted Thumper to the opposite breast. Her little fists were flailing, her face scrunched up and red. The little squeaks and grunts were aplenty as she worked herself up to a squalling cry. “Ssh, here, Thumps.” The moment your nipple rubbed against her cheek, the baby rooted for it eagerly, latching on and suckling with gusto. 

“When she scrunches ‘er face like that, she looks like Merle.” Daryl snorted. His expression didn’t show it but his eyes held a distinct shimmer of sadness. 

“Wanna name her Merle? Merlene? Marleen?” You almost cackled at the look he pulled. “Okay, okay. I said Claire, grumpy gills.”

“Nah.” He sniffed and briefly glanced toward the window. You could hear the van and truck rolling in, hopefully with more supplies. “Makes me think’a that ear piercin’ place in all the malls.”

You thought about people that you had lost. Maybe you could honor them this way. “Andrea?” Daryl snorted. 

“She gonna shoot me when she gets older?” He took a deep breath and balanced his chin on his right palm, elbow pressed into his thigh. “Don’t really feel like she should be a Andrea.”

“Patricia?” You pressed on, stroking Thumper’s cheek with a fingertip. “We could call her Patty?”

“No.”

Your aunt maybe. “My aunt’s name was—actually, no. Nevermind.” This time, it was you that snorted. Daryl shook his head before he turned it back to the window. Thumper had released your nipple, even as her little mouth continued to try and suckle. “Can you burp her while I get all—” you gestured broadly toward your entire self. 

“Sure.” He slid off the mattress and leaned down to take his daughter, so carefully maneuvering her against the front of his shoulder. You kept your sights on him as he moved toward the window, offering the baby a little sunlight. 

You and Daryl slept in the van until the current safe house had been found. No one even woke the archer to help clear it. Probably because Thumps was still lying on his chest. Carol had been the one to wake the two of you, sending you into the bedroom while she heated as much water as she could for you to properly clean up and then to give the baby a warm bath.  Daryl held your daughter while you wiped her down. There was a fire burning in the living room and though you could feel the house slowly warming, neither of you wanted to take any risks. You removed the little knit hat from her head and took care in wiping away the remaining film over her skin. Patting her dry, you replaced the hat and moved on. Each area was bared, cleaned, and covered. You couldn’t help but smile when the archer looked away while you removed the diaper. You made it all the way to her feet before she woke up properly and started trying to suckle Daryl’s thumb.  “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, lil’ one. Gonna hafta talk to your mama if you’re hungry.”

And now here you were, tucking away your tits into a nursing bra while your partner rubbed the back of your perfect daughter by a sunlit window. Thumper was in a light blue sleeper onesie and wrapped in a pink blanket— littered with little birds—to make sure she stayed warm. 

You didn’t hear her burp but had no doubt that she did if he was taking her from his shoulder to the crook of his right arm. From your vantage point you couldn’t see much but you could tell Daryl was talking to her. 

While daddy and daughter were occupied, you laid back on the bed and stretched tired muscles. Your abdomen was still swollen but soft. It was your lady bits that were hot and sore. Forget taking a piss. You had nearly screeched when Daryl had accompanied you earlier, leaving Thumper with Carol. You were bleeding but thank god, Carol had warned you and handed you a couple of pads before you headed out the door. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were standing over where you had urinated and it looked like a murder scene. 

“Jesus, it’s Nightmare on Elm St in my underwear.” You said as you rounded the tree. Daryl looked unamused.  “Ya gotta be so—graphic? Good lord.”

“Need to hunt soon.” Daryl spoke suddenly from the window. You sat back up with a wince just as he made his way back to you. 

“We have a lot of canned stuff. You don’t need to—”

“Doc said ya need protein to keep makin’ milk for her.” 

You didn’t want him to go anywhere. Logically, you knew it made sense. He was the only other hunter besides yourself. Canned veggies wouldn’t do much towards milk production and of course Daryl had asked about it already. Hershel had been pleased that Thumper was appearing satisfied with the colostrum you were producing, but she would need more even within just the next few days. 

“When?” You tracked him as he lowered to the edge of the mattress just in front of you. The baby’s little hand was curled around his middle finger and you weren’t sure he cared about anything else enough to divert his attention away from his newborn. “Daryl.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t paying attention. 

“Purple because aliens don’t wear hats.” 

“Mhm.” Had he ever been this distracted? You called his name again amidst a laugh, each syllable bouncing. Finally, he looked up. Straight ahead first, as if forgetting where you were sitting. Then it was over to you. “You say somethin’?” 

“Welcome back.”

He mocked a laugh and then deadpanned. “Funny girl.”

Your smile remained steadfast. “When are you going out to hunt?” 

“Thought I’d leave in the mornin’. Y’know, stick ‘round to help ya tonight an’ make sure ya both’re all good ‘fore I go. Try to bring back all I can so that—” His mouth was still open, but the words stopped altogether. His brow drew inward. “Think this diaper’s toast.”

Oh god. 

The first diaper change.  

“Should I get Carol?” You asked in earnest. You had never changed a diaper before and Daryl had never indicated he had any experience either. Still, he shook his head. 

“Gotta learn sometime, right? Between the two’a us, how hard can it be?”

The answer: really fucking hard. 

“Daryl, you have to look!” 

“Don’t feel right to see ‘er—areas.”

“You’re her father and you’re trying to change her. It’s fine. You’re gonna get it all over your hands if you don’t look.”

“S’it s’posed to be that color?” 

“How the hell should I know? Can you hand me the wipes?” 

“What wipes?”

“You didn’t grab the wipes?”

“No?” 

“Was that a question?” 

“No?”

“Daryl.”

“Y/N.”

“Get the wipes.”

Twenty minutes later, Thumper was snoozing comfortably on the mattress, wrapped snugly in her blanket without a care in the world. You and Daryl, however, were staring at the small creature, appearing every bit as though you were trapped in the flashbacks of war. 

“I don’t think it’s supposed to take that long.” You finally commented. 

“Walker guts don’t even look like that.” Daryl’s voice was just as quiet and monotonous as your own. 

“It didn’t even smell. Shouldn’t it smell bad?”

“You’re complainin’?” 

“Touché.”

When Carol knocked, your heads moved in unison, two sets of wide, troubled eyes landing on the woman in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot upward, lowering slowly as she took in the scene: you and Daryl cross-legged on the mattress. Thumper just a few inches away. Wipes and a rolled up diaper on the floor below the foot of the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against it to smother the chuckle that tried so hard to break free. 

“You two okay?” She finally asked, clearing her throat. 

“We look okay?” Daryl rasped. 

She struggled against laughter again. “You look like two first time parents discovering one of the joys of a newborn.” 

“We need help.” You were practically pleading, feeling horrible to ask it of the woman who had lost her only child. Daryl’s expression was just as desperate even if he would never grant it a voice. 

“Okay, let’s go over the basics.” Carol shook her head fondly and closed the door behind her. 

Several feedings and diaper changes later, Thumper was asleep between you and Daryl. Night had stolen the sun and a candle burned on the bedside table behind you. She was so far a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry and would squeak and grunt when her diaper was soiled. 

“Expressing herself in grunts and other noncommittal sounds. She’s totally your kid.” You teased.  “Shuddup.”

Daryl’s hand was on the baby’s stomach, likely just as much for his benefit as hers. He was dozing, making a valiant effort to stay awake with little success. You were just as tired but you couldn’t seem to coerce your eyes away from your partner and daughter. Daryl had been so attentive and tender with you while you carried Thumper but seeing him physically interact with her was an entirely different experience. 

Once again, it was likely something he would internalize but he was absolutely in love. That little thing lying between the two of you had already stolen his whole heart. If you had any doubt of his desire and ability to be her dad,—which you didn’t—that would be long gone now. 

When you weren’t nursing her, she was with Daryl. He talked to her in hushed whispers like sharing secrets he’d never speak to another living soul. And she slept or stared at him while he stared right back. She had the bluest of eyes but Carol said they might not remain that way. 

You hoped they did. 

When she looked at you, you could feel her curiosity and adoration. You were her mother and she knew. She knew your voice, your touch. She knew Daryl. Carol said Thumper could only see in shapes and shades of gray, but you didn’t believe that. Not for a second. They way she would stare at Daryl, her little fingers squeezing the edge of her pink bird blanket. No, you didn’t believe that. 

“Think I gotta name for ‘er.” Daryl spoke suddenly, words rough off his tongue, laced with exhaustion. You smiled. 

“Oh yeah?” You wondered if he was even awake or aware of what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, flickering open every few seconds. 

“Yeah. S’okay if ya don’t like it. Don’t really make no sense.”

You laughed within a breath, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. When he didn’t speak for a moment, you found yourself too curious to let it go. “Are you gonna tell me?” 

He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, with an mhm during the exhale. His index finger was gently rubbing back and forth over Thumper’s little hand while she had it fisted into her blanket. 

You almost moved your hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but refrained. He was—like you—exhausted, and within that state, he was emotionally vulnerable. You almost felt as if you were taking advantage of that, but there was a realization that you wanted him to name her. So, you would wait. Let him sleep or listen when he was ready to tell you. 

“Birdie.” He finally breathed. Without opening his eyes, he moved his finger to tap one of the birds on the blanket. “Birdie Jade.”

You felt the wet tickle of a tear running across the bridge of your nose and wiped it away before it could sting your other eye. Sniffling, you ran your fingers through the hair above Daryl’s ear. His eyes finally opened, clear and sharp, watching, waiting for your reaction. 

You pulled back your hand and laid it on top of his, over the baby’s blanket. 

“Hi, Birdie.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Not An Abomination | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Coming across the church seemed like a real blessing to your group. The priest was nice enough to open the doors and showed you all nothing but kindness—that is, until he made the ingenious move to insult Daryl.

Genre: I don't really know, but there's some fluff towards the end.

Era: Post Terminus.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/n: I didn't have the time to rewatch the episodes of the church again, so I improvised. Hope that's okay lol. Anyways, I hope you like this!

“You have a beautiful baby,” the priest, Gabriel, told you as you walked around, scanning the interior of the church. “She's truly a blessing from above.”

You turned around to face the older man, Judith clinging to you and fiddling with your necklace as a way to keep herself entertained. You glanced down at the almost one year old little girl before looking back up at Gabriel. “Oh, she's not mine.” You jiggled the baby a bit when she started fussing, pulling a funny face at her and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. You smiled fondly and smoothed some of her wispy hair, before shifting your attention back to the priest. “Rick's her father. Her mother... She passed away during childbirth.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” Gabriel responded, a look of sadness spreading across his face. “But she's in much better hands now. The Lord will take care of her now.”

“The baby or her mother?”

Gabriel smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. “Both. The Lord is good to everyone, here on earth or in heaven.” The priest looked up at the wooden cross and sighed in content. “He's been good to me, and I haven't always deserved it.”

You looked at Gabriel thoughtfully. “What are you—”

“Rick! People! They've got guns!” Glenn suddenly called out from somewhere outside the church. His words barely reached your ears before bullets came flying through the windows.

Instinctively, you ducked down behind one of the seats and covered Judith's small body to protect her from any stray bullets. Judith let out a loud cry, her small fists clutching your shirt in distress. Gabriel hid with you, panicking. Making a quick decision, you handed Judith over to the priest and grabbed your gun from your waistband.

“Go to your office and lock the door!” you shouted, disabling the safety on your weapon and cocking it. “I'll cover you. Keep her safe!” You stood up and started shooting at the ambushers. When Gabriel made no effort to make a run for the office, you raised your voice again. “Are you fucking deaf?! Go!” You shot at a person climbing through the window. “Fucking GO!” Gabriel finally scrambled up to his feet and adjusted Judith in his arms. With one last look to the chaos that unfolded in his church, he made a break for his office.

With Judith out of immediate danger, your attention fully shifted to the intruders. You ducked back down when more bullets flew in your direction. You felt a hand grip your shoulder and you quickly whipped around, your gun raised to shoot at the person or walker. However, you were instead met with the striking blue eyes of the man you had come to develop feelings for. On closer inspection, however, you could see flecks of red seeping into the blue, a clear sign that he hadn't fed in days.

“S'jus' me!” Daryl assured you quickly. When you visibly relaxed, Daryl grabbed your hand and pulled you up with him. The two of you ran towards the door and hid behind the wood. Daryl shot his crossbow at one of the people outside before moving to hide again. “Ya see anybody in our group yet?”

“No. They were all checking the back of the church for that bus Abraham saw when all of this happened.” You gasped when a bullet broke through the wood and nearly grazed the side of your face. The only reason it didn't was because Daryl's senses alerted him to the danger and he pulled you back at just the right moment. “Shit. Thanks.”

“Dun' mention it.” Daryl gently grabbed your gun out of your hand and took a shot at the person, successfully hitting them right between the eyes.

Everything fell silent after that. No more gunshots could be heard, and that made you let out a sigh of relief. Slowly, you crept out of the church with Daryl following closely behind you, his trained eyes scanning for any threats that could still linger. However, once you caught a glimpse of your group, every member relatively unscathed, you sped up your pace and rushed over to them.

Michonne was the first to notice you. She gasped in relief and brought you into a tight hug, one which you reciprocated in an instant. When you pulled away, you were tackled in a hug by Carl, which made you chuckle in surprise.

“I thought you died in there,” he told you when he pulled back, taking a step back to grant you your personal space again. “We heard yelling and thought that they got you.” He stopped once he realized that Judith wasn't with you. “Judith? Where's—”

“She's fine,” you instantly reassured both him and Rick, who you saw was anxiously looking at you for an answer. “She's with Gabriel. They're locked in his office. He—”

Suddenly, a loud bang of a gunshot could be heard, and it was closely followed by a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You cried out in agony and instantly gripped your arm, nearly tumbling down to the ground. Michonne quickly steadied you, however, and you turned around while being brought tightly against her side in a protective gesture while the rest of the members of your group reloaded their weapons.

A man stood a few feet away from you, his body bloody and a gun being shakily held in his hand. He quickly cocked the gun again to attempt another shot at someone before he was ultimately killed, but his attempts were quickly proven futile. Without so much as a noise, Daryl stood behind him in seconds. His fangs elongated and the archer sunk them into the ambusher's neck.

The guy cried out in pain, but it was soon silenced when Daryl snapped his neck with little to no effort. The archer hesitated for a few seconds longer, savouring the taste of the blood for a few moments before withdrawing, letting the dead man fall down to the ground. Daryl slowly turned back to look at all of you, expecting to see terror written across all of your faces, but was relieved when he was instead met with looks of gratitude and understanding.

“Good Lord.”

Everyone's attention was diverted to someone standing behind Daryl. The archer turned around and locked eyes with the priest, who looked at him with the terror he had expected to see on all of your faces. Gabriel was holding Judith close to his chest, and Daryl was sure if it wasn't for the fact that he was holding the baby, Gabriel would've bolted by now.

“Gabriel, I'm gonna need you to calm down,” Rick began, slowly walking towards him with an outstretched hand. Everyone else closely followed behind, ready to offer your leader support should he need it. “There's no need to start acting irrational here.”

“Irrational?” Gabriel asked rhetorically, laughing in obvious terror. “How would I be the irrational one here? This... thing killed that man with his bare hands. He snapped his neck like it was nothing. And he drank his blood! That's not normal. That's... That's the work of the devil.” Gabriel took a fearful step back, looking at Daryl, who had blood messily dripping down from his mouth. “You're the devil! I let the devil into God's house. You're something that I've only ever heard tales about. You're a monster. You're an abomination.”

Daryl pursed his lips and ducked his head in shame. However, he raised his head again when he saw someone move past him. He saw you standing in front of Gabriel and gently taking Judith from his arms. He didn't miss the way you hissed in pain when you held the baby in your arms, or the way you winced when you handed Judith over to Carl and the boy accidentally touched your arm. He also certainly didn't miss the way you spun back around and clocked the priest right in the face, his nose crunching under the harsh pressure of your knuckles.

“Fucking hell!” you cried out in pain. You realized a little too late that you probably shouldn't have used your injured arm to swing that punch, but there wasn't anything you could do about it now. Daryl was by your side in seconds, looking you over and assessing the damage that dead bastard inflicted on you with that bullet. Luckily, it was only a graze, but he knew it would still hurt like hell. You looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile, your heart fluttering at the archer's obvious care. “I'm fine, I promise.”

“Let's get one thing straight,” Rick began, recapturing your attention, as well as Daryl's. “I don't care what your beliefs are or how you choose to honour them, but with us around for the foreseeable future, we're not gonna take this shit again. Daryl is one of us. He stuck his neck out to protect this place. He didn't have to do that for you. He killed that man because he shot one of our own.” Rick motioned towards you before continuing. “How he did it doesn't matter. What he is doesn't matter. What he needs to eat or drink to survive doesn't matter. He's part of our family, and nothing is going to change that, not even the fact that he's a vampire. Now you have a problem with that, I promise you, we have absolutely no problem with leaving you to the walkers next time.��

With that, Rick stalked off towards the church, everyone else closely following behind. Gabriel cowered under everyone's harsh glares, recoiling with every harsh word thrown his way.

“Fucking asshole,” Maggie voiced, glaring at the priest distastefully.

“Gon' leave you to die next time, shitdick.” Abraham closely followed behind Maggie, soon disappearing into the church.

“Ungrateful ass,” Michonne spat angrily, her glare burning into the side of Gabriel's head.

You and Daryl were the last ones to enter the building. The archer lead you to one of the benches to sit down, taking your arm in his hand and carefully examining the graze more closely this time. You hissed in pain when Daryl twisted your arm too hard, and he sent you an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

You shook your head and sent him a small smile. “It's okay.” Daryl hummed before chuckling, making you frown. “What's so funny?”

“Nothin',” he quickly deflected, shaking his head. “Jus' amazed how ya got shot and ya still managed to put a guy on his ass.”

You laughed and shrugged. “I wasn't about to let that asshole call you an abomination. You're not. I hope you know that.”

Daryl didn't believe that, but he wasn't about to ruin the mood with his insecurities, so instead he just nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He grabbed the piece of red fabric that he always kept on his person and held it over your wound to stop the bleeding, making a mental note to go get some water later to clean the wound somewhat until he could find something better. “Still amazed tha' ya put a guy on his ass when ya were shot, though.”

You giggled. “What can I say? I'm just amazing like that.”

You were only joking, and Daryl knew that. However, you certainly didn't know how right you were to him. You were amazing. You were so amazing to him. And someday he hoped that he would be able to express to you just how amazing he thought you were.

However, not at that moment. No, at that moment, he'd simply enjoy your company, and be happy about the fact that the people he had come to care for so deeply didn't view him as the monster he saw himself as. That meant so much more to him than any of you would ever know. Just for that small moment, even though dead bodies were littered outside the church and everyone had just narrowly escaped being shot at, he was at peace.

However, something always came along to disturb that peace, because later that night, when everyone was celebrating and making plans to head to DC, you and Daryl were speeding off after a car, with only one objective in mind; you had to save Beth.