#ooc daryl dixon
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Lost and Found
Summary: On a run into a nearby town, Daryl and Y/N encounter a bad group of men. Daryl takes a beating and you get taken. He won't stop until he finds you.
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 5.7k words
Era: Prison! Post-Woodbury merge, pre-attack
TW: 18+ SA and attempted rape. Please don't push your boundaries!
Here it is, my first Walking Dead fanfiction and the first fic I've written or published in over 8 years. Feel free to leave comments, criticism, requests, and anything else! Hopefully, yall enjoy!
3 hours and 27 minutes.
That’s how long Daryl had been searching for you. How long you’ve been missing, since you’ve been taken.
It was supposed to be a normal run, calm even. A few days ago, the two of you found a seemingly untouched bookstore 30 minutes from the prison. You wanted to go in, practically begged Daryl to stop. To your immense disappointment, he refused.
“Daryl, please!” You pouted from the passenger seat of the truck.
He could hear the whine in your voice and focused his attention on the road. If he looked over and saw your full lips in a frown, he would give right there. He would do anything for you, and you knew it. This trick has worked on him since the early days of the quarry since you walked up to him and asked him to watch over you while you cleaned off in the water. He didn’t know you, hell, he could hardly stand you or anybody else, but he risked a glance up at your face. Your pretty eyes locked with his for just a moment, but that was all it took. He was yours for good.
“Nah, ain’t cleared. ‘Sides, don’t have enough room as is.” His rough voice answered, doing his best to keep his composure. He didn’t like telling you no. The truck was full of supplies, food and the like, for your group as well as the newcomers from Woodbury. You couldn’t fit goods from the bookstore.
He could feel the disappointment radiating from your side of the truck. He wouldn’t give in, not this time. But-
“We can come back later. Busy with Rick the next few days, but I’ll bring ya back.”
A cheer rang out. “Yes! You promise?” He fought to keep a grin off his face and nodded his affirmation. He glanced your way and saw the brightest smile on your face.
You excitedly began planning what you would grab, talking about all the books you could bring back for the children, for Carol, for yourself. Daryl didn’t recognize most of the titles and certainly none of the authors, but that didn’t matter. He would do anything for you, just to see that beautiful smile.
That was three days ago. Now, instead of gushing over your books, you were missing. Daryl doesn’t know how they knew you were coming, but not long after your arrival at the shopping center that housed the bookstore, you were both attacked.
Daryl somehow convinced you to stay in the truck while he cleared the stores of either side of your target. If anything went wrong in the main store, you could retreat through the connected alleyway and escape through one of these. The stores were clear of both people and walkers. Thinking back, he should’ve known better. If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the image of you waiting for him, maybe he would’ve been suspicious. Maybe he would have used his fucking brain.
Instead of doing his damn job and making sure you were safe, they got the jump on him. Daryl turned a corner on his way back to you and took a mean punch in the face. He stumbled back and tried to fire his crossbow at the attacker, but he was disarmed by another man. He took hit after hit, doing his best to fight back and hoping to God they didn’t see you outside. He was on the ground taking boots to the ribs and punches to the face when he heard your voice. No.
“Daryl?” You weren’t in the store yet, but you would be in no time. The hits lightened up at the sound and something akin to fear and desperation made him call out to you. He couldn’t risk you walking in and not knowing what awaited you. He wouldn’t be able to help you if he tried.
“Y/N, go! Get out-” He was cut off by a hard hit with the butt of a gun. The world spun and Daryl couldn’t see past the kaleidoscope of pain.
Despite his warning, you skidded to a stop in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of you.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous. Y/N, is it? Aren’t you a pretty thing. Name’s Robert.” A voice from above spoke and he vowed to cut the man’s tongue from his throat. He could hear the threat. You needed to get out of here before they hurt you or worse.
“Ya touch her and I swear to God...” Daryl growled. He was going to skin this man alive. He would cut his fingers off and feed them to him. Him and his buddies were going to wish they never spoke to you.
“God?” Robert huffs. “What are you and God gonna do? Huh?” He sauntered over to you. For every step the man took towards you, you retreated until you hit the wall. Daryl didn’t know why the hell you didn’t just run when he told you to. He wasn’t worth risking your life over.
When you were backed into a corner, Robert grinned. The fear on your face was exactly what that asshole wanted. He laid a hand against your throat and caressed your chin with his thumb. If Daryl could stand, he wouldn’t have no hand.
“W-what do you want?” Your eyes flicked back and forth from the threat in front of you to Daryl’s bloody form on the ground. He could see the anger and fear on your face and was furious at himself for getting the two of you into this position. If he just paid attention…
“I want to take that mouth of yours out for a test run, but I have a feeling you like to bite.”
Fuck this. Daryl lashed out at the closest person, and they dropped to one knee. Before anyone could react, he hauled himself up and kicked the same spot and was rewarded with a sickening crunch. Despite the burning in his ribs and chest, he spun around and delivered a right cross to the next man. He dropped and Daryl stalked towards you but was stopped in his tracks by the tell-tale click of a safety releasing.
“Take another step and I’ll blow her little brains all over the wall. Don’t think I won’t just because she’s a nice piece of ass.” The gun was pressed firmly against your forehead leaving no room to disarm him. The first tear rolled down your cheek as your chin quivered. Without looking away from Daryl, Robert leaned forward and slowly licked it off your face. You whimpered and tried to withdraw. The sound broke something in him, he would do anything to never have to hear you sound so helpless again.
“Now you are going to sit your ass down and behave. Don’t make me hurt her.” Daryl wanted nothing more than to bash the fucker’s face in, but he couldn’t risk any more pain coming to you.
Shaking from the restraint, he forced himself backwards. One of the men grabbed him and shoved him onto his knees. He leaned in and locked eyes with Daryl.
“You broke my friend’s leg. Either you or the girl has to pay for that.” His rank breath invaded Daryl’s space and he glared daggers at him. His breath came out in huffs as he tried to keep his rage under control. The constant threats weren’t helping him restrain himself.
Daryl jerkily nodded. “Take it from me. Just leave her ‘lone.” He heard you cry out and instinctively broke eye contact to search for you. You were in the same spot, not having moved an inch. You looked devastated and he found it hard to keep eye contact with you, knowing he couldn’t help.
Tears continued to roll down your face as you sobbed. “Don’t- Don’t hurt him. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll come with y’all.” What the hell were you thinking? He wasn’t going to let them take you anywhere. They could take their anger out on him, but they couldn’t have you. He was about to voice these thoughts before Robert spoke up.
“How about we hurt him and take you anyway?” He grinned maliciously, looking between the two of you. He was enjoying this display of emotion, and it made Daryl sick to his stomach.
His minions wasted no time and took Daryl for round 2 of his beatdown. He didn’t try to fight back; he kept his eyes locked on you. You would be okay. The longer they focused on him, the more chance for you to get away.
You could protect yourself if he couldn’t, he had made sure of that. Back at the farm, when Shane was becoming a threat to everyone, he taught you everything he knew. He was terrified you would be alone with him and in danger, so he taught you how to defend yourself.
He hated seeing the tears glistening in your eyes, hated being the cause of them, but if you were crying then you were alive. That’s all that mattered.
Daryl’s vision was getting hazy. He knew that if he went unconscious you would be alone and in danger, but he couldn’t stop it. He was sure he heard you calling his name before everything faded to black.
Daryl wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious for. His wounds stung, and the busted skin from the boots was bleeding steadily, so it couldn’t have been long. The blood on the floor was still wet.
The first thing he noticed was the silence. His hearing was sharp from years of hunting experience, and he knew there was nothing, undead or alive, in the store.
Where the hell were you?
He managed to get himself off the ground and ignored the immense pain he was in. It hurt like a bitch, but he would live. Blood and cracked ribs hadn’t stopped him before and it certainly wouldn’t now, not without knowing you were safe.
Robert and his men took Daryl’s crossbow but not his knives. While this put him at a disadvantage, he relished the idea of looking into their eyes while he gutted them. You were his.
He found your hunting knife not far from where you last stood. They must have forced you to disarm. If they were smart, which they clearly weren’t, he grumbled, then they would have patted you down. They didn’t see you as the threat you could be and so they were unaware of the second knife in your possession.
Something flared in his chest as he realized that it was his knife you were armed with. You took it some weeks ago and never gave it back. To be honest, watching you use it to kill walkers and train made his heart light up. At least he was with you in some capacity.
Daryl followed the disturbances on the ground. The parking lot was covered in dirt and leaves, so he could get an idea of which direction they went. There were two possible paths: the road or the woods. And because these dicks didn’t know who they fucked with; they went with the latter. Stupid sons of bitches. They walked right into his domain.
Y/N’s POV
Oh, these bastards are gonna pay.
The leader, Robert, had a hand wrapped around my waist. He was leading me into the woods and away from the shopping center. The creep’s hand kept wandering to my ass and I fought the urge to stab him in the throat now. I would get the pleasure of killing him but the other two would be able to subdue me quickly. It was better to wait.
“Still thinking about your archer? I’m sure he’s dead by now. Left the doors open for our rotting buddies to get a free meal.” His hand squeezed around my waist. I was sick of him touching me.
“Fuck you, you rapey asshole.” I spat. The only reason I was so meek in the store was in the hopes that it could help Daryl. Now he’s back there hurt while we are parading through the woods. No reason to keep my attitude in check now.
Robert’s hand disappeared from my side and a resounding smack filled the air as he backhanded me. I nearly fell to the ground, stumbling from the force, but he yanked me upright and slammed me into a tree.
“You’ll learn to watch your mouth, girl. Keep that attitude in check or I’ll have to show you something better to do with it.” He leaned in and took a deep breath, his nose tracing the skin of my shoulder up to my pulse point. I shuddered and did my best to not physically rebel. Handsy, I could handle. I didn’t want to see what would happen if I gave them a reason to go any further.
A rustling in the trees drew everyone’s attention and thankfully, Robert away from me. Daryl?
It was not my archer; it was a small herd of walkers. From my spot against the tree, I was the farthest away and had a front row seat. I watched as one of the walkers attacked the dude with the broken leg. He struggled with it for a minute but lost as his leg crumpled under his weight and a chunk of flesh was ripped from his throat.
The man screamed and screamed as his friends fought the others off. I couldn’t help feeling a sick sense of satisfaction and retribution as I watched him slowly die. Daryl breaking that man’s leg just sentenced him to death and helped even the odds. Even when he wasn’t here, he was protecting me.
Robert was using Daryl’s crossbow. His filthy hands were touching Daryl’s crossbow. I almost saw red at the disrespect he was displaying. Despite the dick’s handle on Daryl’s prized possession, I needed to focus on getting away.
I could run while they’re distracted… Unfortunately, Robert and his remaining friend managed to gain the upper hand against the herd before I had time to make my move. The one unnamed guy yanked me up by arm and dragged me towards Robert, who was staring down at his dead friend.
“What a shame. Nick was a good man.” Yeah, right. “He was slowing us down. Saved me the bullet.” He said impassively.
Oh shit. If he only cared about his friend in terms of how he could help or hinder, things could be worse for me than I thought. I needed to get out of here, and soon. As his buddy forced me past Nick’s body, I stumbled and fell to the ground. Blood coated my hands and knees.
“Goddamnit, girl. You that fuckin’ slow?” He seethed in my ear as he dragged me up from the ground.
“Now now, there’s no reason to get mad. Y/N’s just in shock. Never seen someone die by a geek?” Robert asked in his condescending tone. Of course, he thought I was a helpless girl, protected and sheltered from what life is now. Why not give him more reason to doubt my abilities?
“I, uh. Y-yeah. I knew it happened but I’ve never…” My voice wavered. I really needed to sell this. I thought about Daryl, how he was bloody and unmoving on the floor as they dragged me out. He could be dead and not just hurt. Tears sprang in my eyes and I sniffled.
“Well, we’ll keep you safe gorgeous.” Robert moved to take his friend’s place at my side, sending him to walk ahead of us. We edged around the puddle of blood and continued forward.
He didn’t notice me leaving a bloody handprint on the nearest tree.
Daryl’s POV
It wasn’t a hard trail to follow. Robert’s men took large, heavy steps through the foliage. To his relief, Daryl found evidence that you were still walking on your own. Smaller tracks, but not nearly as light as they could be. You weren’t trying to be careful. It was clear that you resisted at first, but someone must’ve forced you forwards, either by gunpoint or otherwise. He hoped it was the latter. Either way, he would find you soon enough.
Daryl followed as quickly and silently as he could. There were little to no walkers for much of the trek. The ones he did encounter, he dispatched quietly. He didn’t want to risk alerting the group of men that he was close behind. After some time, he began to see signs of a scuffle.
What happened here?
Scanning the ground, it was clear to Daryl that you were shoved. The set of feet that were by your side, too close to your side for his liking, stayed in one spot while yours dragged backwards.
The son of a bitch had put his hands on her. If he hurt you… The men were already going to die for taking you, but Daryl could drag it out. No need to make it clean and quick.
He looked at the scene ahead of the tree. Blood, walkers, and a dead body. Daryl’s heart stopped in his chest. He took out the few walkers that were feasting on the body, adding to the pile of corpses already laying in the dirt. He slowly approached the bloody form. His heartbeat in his throat so hard he thought he would choke on it. God, please don’t let it be her, don’t let it be Y/N.
Daryl forced himself to investigate the face of the body on the ground and thought he would cry in relief. It wasn’t you. No, it was one of the men from the stores. The one who’s leg he broke.
A violent grin pulled at the edges of his lips. One down, two to go. Daryl could take two people in a fight. The element of surprise would be on his side if he stayed undetected, a skill he’d perfected.
Standing back up, Daryl looked for a new set of tracks. There were no obvious trails, the walkers would have mucked them up, but there was an odd smear in the blood. Someone had disturbed the pool. Daryl lightly touched the liquid. It was still warm, he couldn’t be more than 5 or 10 minutes behind you now.
He scanned the immediate area and found a mark. It was a bloody handprint, deliberately pressed. Daryl’s fingers ghosted across the stain and a genuine smile crossed his face. My clever girl.
Y/N’s POV
Night fell and Robert stopped to set up a small fire. I left bloody marks on as many trees as possible. If Daryl is out there, he has a path almost all the way to me. If he’s even alive.
“Y/N. Can’t be over there by yourself, sweetheart. Come sit with me.” Robert looked up at me and he eyes shined with something I didn’t want to name. I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave my spot by the tree line. I felt relatively safe over here, where neither of the men could grab me.
“Girl don’t make me ask again. Over here. Now.” I knew I needed to move towards the fire, but my feet wouldn’t shift from their spot. I was pissing them both off, risking a beating or worse with no possible backup. If Daryl were here, he’d be furious.
But that’s it. Daryl isn’t here. It’s me and two violent, unstable men. I started to turn towards into the shadows, but Robert was by my side in a flash. His hand wound itself into my hair and pulled savagely.
I yelped as he dragged me towards the fire by my hair. My scalp was stinging, and no amount of fighting would get him to let up. I wasn’t in a position to force his release, my feet scrambling in the dirt as I fought to pull myself up. I was thrown fully down, and his hand was no longer in my hair.
The split second of relief was gone in a flash as he kicked me in the ribs. I let out a short scream before my breath was knocked from my chest as he kicked again once, twice, three times. They burned more than they should. Steel-toed boots.
“You fucking bitch, I told you to listen to me. Now I gotta punish you because you can’t be good.” Robert crouched by my side as I fought to catch my breath past the burning ache. The other man hovered by my opposite side, effectively blocking me in. Now I’d antagonized both men and lost my chance to get away.
My heart froze in my chest as I heard the clink of a belt buckle. No, no, no. I fought with renewed vigor, trying to shove myself past the men and into the safety of the trees. I only made it a few steps before a hand seized my ankle and I hit the ground. My ribs lit up with pain and I could barely see past the stars in my eyes as I was dragged backwards and flipped up to face Robert. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I like it when you fight. What if I let you go, give you a two-minute head start? Chasing you through the woods would get me so hot.” He groped at me through my shirt and grabbed my chin, forcing me into a rough kiss. There was no way for me to reach Daryl’s knife in my boot, so I did the only thing I could. I bit into his lip and tore it off his face.
Blood rushed onto my face as he let out a hoarse scream and fell backwards. His eyes were wide and stunned.
“Thought you said you could tell I liked to bite.” I stood up and pulled my knife from its hiding spot. His friend grabbed me and punched me hard in the side of the face. I hit the ground and waited. He leaned over my body, looking at me like a bug to be squashed. Just a little closer, asshole.
“I’m going to hurt you, you little-” His threat was cut off with a wet gurgle as I plunged the blade into his throat. I managed to flip around and gain the upper hand, twisting and yanking the blade out. I was absolutely soaked in blood, barely able to see past it, and Robert was getting up.
Fuck. I hesitated for a split second, torn between running and turning around and gutting Robert. He grabbed the crossbow, which was already loaded from our last encounter. As he picked it up, I spun around and bolted for the trees. I make it into the woods, but not before I hear a low whistle, and something hits me in the left side.
I can’t afford to stop and check. I keep running into the woods back the way we came, praying that I can get far enough away before the adrenaline wears off and I start to feel the object stuck in my side. One of Daryl’s bolts. Branches were whipping across my arms and face, leaving stinging marks. My face and ribs throbbed. But I can’t stop.
My breathing ratcheted up and my heart fluttered like a butterfly. I wasn’t watching my feet and I tripped over a root, breaking my fall into someone’s chest.
Daryl’s POV
Although Daryl could track the steps made by the men, your map of blood ensured he was going the right way. He could feel himself getting closer and his body tensing up for the fight. They would have to kill him to keep you.
A high-pitched scream rang through the trees, quickly cut off. Y/N. Daryl would recognize your voice anywhere.
His heart begged him to pick up the pace and run to help you. You sounded terrified. He forced himself to not outright run, he didn’t want to risk you by charging into the area half-cocked and knowing nothing.
Not long after your scream, a second yell was heard. That was clearly a man, one in pain. Daryl abandoned his plan and began to speed towards the sounds. If both you and a man screamed, you could be getting attacked by walkers. Or another group. Or-
Stop it. Fuckin’ quit. He couldn’t play these scenarios out and stay aware of his surroundings. He had to focus on the present and getting you out of there.
A branch snapped a little to his right and Daryl froze. Something, no someone, was coming his way and it wasn’t trying to be quiet. Whoever it was, they were running for their life.
He slid his two knives from their holsters and brought his hands into a defensive position. There. He can see them now. They were short and feminine. Is that-
You had no idea he was right in front of you. He didn’t have time to call out before you stumbled fell right into his chest.
Daryl’s arm instinctively wrapped around you to break your fall. His chest ached by the force of your impact, but it didn’t matter. It was you.
You fought against his chest, screaming and hitting, trying to break free. A small grunt sounded from the body in front of you.
“Please! Please, let me go, let me-” Your voice cracked as it strained under the stress. Tears ran down your face as you struggled uselessly. Daryl wasn’t letting you go for anything, never again.
“Y/N? Y/N, baby, it’s me. It’s me.” Your struggles died down as your body put a name to the voice, your brain slower to catch up. Whiskey, gasoline, grease. Blood. Ocean-blue eyes.
“D-Daryl?” Your voice sounded so small; he could tell you were scared out of your mind and slow to process. Something terrified you.
He tightened his grip on you and swayed you back and forth. “Yeah Y/N. It’s me.”
A sob wracked through your body. It’s him. He’s okay, he’s alive. The tension drained out of you as you sank into his hold. Your knees gave out and he supported your fall, resting you both on the soft leaves coating the ground.
“He- he tried to-” You couldn’t get the sentence out, but you knew he understood. He always did.
He held you as you cried into his neck. Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and breathed deeply, needing to ground himself. You smelled the same; cocoa, vanilla, alcohol and something all your own. Blood singed his nose and shocked him back into reality.
He pulled away from the grasp to get a look at your face. You whined and tried to burrow back into him, but he held you by the shoulders. He needed to make sure you weren’t hurt.
“’S okay, just checking ya ain’t hurt. ‘S okay.” It was not okay. Your face was soaked with blood, some of it yours and some of it from the others. There were cuts across your cheeks still weeping blood and a nasty bruise crawling up the right side of your face. Some of the blood was even in your hair. Your shirt was ripped at the collar, exposing (thankfully) bite-less skin, and you had an arm wrapped around your waist as if holding yourself together. His breath stopped at he looked at your torso.
“Y/N.” His voice was quiet and tense, his accent making a more obvious appearance. “The hell ya got a bolt in your side for?”
Oh. That. “He got me when I was gettin’ away, he has your bow. Asshole…” You cursed. Now that you were safe, you could really feel everything. Your eyes started to close. You were exhausted from fighting for your life and he felt like a horrible person for forcing you to stay awake.
“Y/N, darlin’. Need ya awake. Can’t sleep yet.” He lightly patted the non-bruised cheek, making your eyes flutter open. You didn’t look as if you were entirely there. If Daryl had to guess, it was a combination of exhaustion, blood loss, and dissociation.
His blood boiled as he thought about the men who did this to you. He was going to fucking kill them. But he had to patch you up first. He wouldn’t, couldn’t let you out of his sight, not even when he dealt with those men. He thought he would go insane if he couldn’t see or feel you by his side.
Looking down at you, he knew there wasn’t much he could do to help at the moment. He had to keep the arrow in your side until you were back at the prison with Hershel. He quickly stripped his vest and his flannel off. He reached for your waist, but you flinched, and he immediately quit moving. Daryl felt guilty but he took a deep breath. Those assholes tried to force you and you were traumatized. They were the problem, not him.
“’M gonna tie this ‘round your waist, keep tha bolt from movin’. Need ta keep it in so ya don’t bleed out, okay?” His voice was gentle as he waited for your response.
“Mhm. I know you won’ hurt me.” Your words were a bit slurred as you looked up at him. That wasn’t a good sign. You’d lost more blood than he first expected.
As gently as he possibly could, Daryl pulled the flannel around your waist and tight enough to act as a torniquet. You yelped in pain and he wanted to kick himself for hurting you more. No, he wanted to kick those dipshits-
“I got a few more questions, darlin’. Y/N, where are they?” His hands rubbed up and down your arms to keep you awake and to comfort you. Daryl wanted to know where their campsite was. He had a visit to make.
You pointed behind you. “It’s that way, not too far. Only one left’s Robert. Ooh I bet he’s mad.” A tired giggle left your lips. The situation was far from funny, but you couldn’t help it.
“Why’s he mad? Wha’ happened to the other one? Saw the first a’ready.” One hand left your arm and gently rested on your cheek.
You hummed and leaned into Daryl’s touch. “I bit his lip off. He was trying to-. Anyway, the other one’s dead. Got ‘em right here with your knife.” You tapped his jugular softly.
He didn’t know just how proud of you he could be until that moment. He had let you down in the store, but you managed to protect yourself from the worst of it. He didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t fought back.
“That’s ma girl. I love ya so much.” You looked up and were rewarded with those pretty blue eyes looking back into yours with adoration. You wanted to stay here with him forever, but you knew the situation was time sensitive.
“Let’s go, the camp’s thatta way.” You tried to haul yourself up and almost hit the ground hard. Daryl quickly wrapped an arm around you and supported most of your weight, doing his best to not provoke the bolt still in your side.
The camp wasn’t far at all. Daryl was so close to you, and you had no idea. It would’ve have been a matter of minutes if you hadn’t made your move. But those minutes would have been filled with pain. You were happy he didn’t have to see you like that.
Daryl’s eyes flicked over the dead man’s body and latched onto the sight of Robert with his back to you both. Daryl set you down gently and lifted a finger to his lips in a silent request. You nodded and he crept towards the man at the edge of camp.
Once behind Robert, he purposefully made a noise. Robert spun around and Daryl was lightning fast, nailing him in the face. Robert hit the ground and Daryl was quick to follow. He threw punch after punch, soaking his hands in blood. His ribs burned like hell, but his rage burned brighter.
He pulled back and allowed a moment of reprieve for the time it took to grab one of his knives. Daryl buried the hilt into the man’s shoulder, effectively pinning him. Robert shrieked in pain.
You hated to see the effect this entire day had on Daryl, but you couldn’t help but delight in the attacker’s pain. You wanted to see him bloody and dying. That’s the least he could expect for the damage he caused.
“Promised myself I’d do this when ya’ first laid a hand on her.” Daryl gripped the man’s hand and brutally chopped a finger off. The screams were both nauseating and rewarding. He went on to the next, then the next. Soon the man was left with 6 fingers.
“Shoulda never touched her. Warned ya’, didn’t I?” He grinned animalistically. You’d never seen Daryl so furious, so dangerous. It sparked the smallest amount of fear before you chided yourself. He would never hurt you. These men were asking for it.
“Please, God, please- “Robert begged. He would bleed out soon, but not soon enough to spare himself more pain.
Daryl shook his head. “What’re you and God gonna do?” He mocked. “Nah, ain’t no God out here. Just me and you.”
Something dark curled up in your chest. The lengths this man was willing to go for you…
When Daryl was done, he slit Robert’s throat and watched as he bled out in the dirt. His eyes eventually went dull, and Daryl extracted his blade from his shoulder and wiped them both harshly on the man’s body. He wouldn’t even spare the man from the transformation. No, he could walk the Earth and feast on people. Daryl hoped that there was a part of him alive in there, despite what Jenner said all those months ago.
You watched as Daryl approached and knelt beside you. His hand was pressed to his ribs, which were likely broken. He’d almost forgotten the beating he took. He looked over your body and locked eyes with you.
“Hi, darlin. Are ya ready to go home?”
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𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎
╰┈➤ 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𓆩♡𓆪
If I had stayed quiet longer, would you still have waited for me?
⋰⋰⋰⋰⋰
He caught her arm as she began to walk away. His eyes were pleading, but she quickly snatched her arm out of his steely grip. “No, Daryl. I can’t…you don’t get to look at me that way.”
What had he done so wrong to deserve a statement such as that? Daryl truly could not pinpoint where Bishop’s anguish stemmed from.
“An’ you don’ get to walk away,” his voice was strained, tight from the fear of crying.
Bishop turned to him, her stare cold as she gave an incredulous expression. “Can’t I? You’ve been running away for as long as I’ve known you.” Her voice was composed and tone full of poise; Glenn had taught Daryl long ago that his sister’s calmness was one to fear in these circumstances.
Daryl gulped thickly, “I have no idea what yer talkin’ ‘bout.” The lie seemed to escape him before he could fully comprehend his words.
He blinks stupidly. Bishop scoffs, “Are you serious?” Her laugh was scathing.
He was bewildered within her amusement—what exactly had been so funny? Bishop was quick to throw on her boots (she was beginning to grow jaded of the topic). She had to leave, get out and take a turn about the prison. She felt that if this conversation prolonged, the entire prison will hear them.
“Why did I think this would work…?” She questioned, herself mostly, as she walked towards the covered entrance of her cell. “I have to go.”
If Bishop seemed as if she could leave barefoot earlier, then now—with her shoes on—there was nothing stopping her from abandoning him. This would be his one and only chance to make up for his indifference (lest he wish for the treatment he’s bestowed upon her all this time).
“Bishop, ’m sorry. Please. I’m beggin’ you.”
She shook her head. This was becoming a bit too ridiculous. Especially for the end of the world. Duchess-Bishop Rhee pining after a man when she couldn’t even find something proper to eat that wasn’t spoiled or already tampered with. To say she was emotionally exhausted was a severe understatement.
“You’re only speaking like this now because of Glenn and Maggie.” He stayed quiet. Her words were true after all. Daryl couldn’t—or rather shouldn’t—argue the obvious.
Why had it taken her brother and his “wife” to get kidnapped by the Governor for Daryl to finally accept his feelings towards Bishop? “I’m pathetic.”
She still stood close to the doorway, a curt nod her only response. She was still ready to leave when the moment called for an immediate distance from him. For now the silent treatment didn’t seem completely necessary. However, her back still faced him. Daryl couldn’t tell what she was thinking as he continued.
“I’m pathetic,” he repeated. “I’m an idiot. I’m an asshole. I’m everythin’ yer thinkin’ right now.” He took a few steps forward, stepping light as to not startle her away. “I’ll be every bad guy in the book to ya, if only to make up for it.”
Bishop froze, having been lost in her own thoughts, Daryl’s words a hushed buzz in the back of her mind, and she looked up at the sound of footsteps closing in. She held her breath as she saw Rick carrying baby Judith through the almost sheer fabric of her black and red curtains. “I dunno what you are to me right now,” she finally managed to say once she felt Rick was out of earshot.
Daryl’s heart pounded loudly at her words (and he was damn certain she could hear it, too).
In his old life before the pandemic—before Bishop—Daryl was about the most unlovable asshole this side of the Chattahoochee River. Even Merle would get laid every now and again. But Daryl? He had only ever had a few kisses throughout his teens, and the girls would always regret it right afterwards.
Daryl had spent countless nights wondering if it was worth ignoring the obvious mutual affection between the two of them. Going mad over what exactly the most perfect woman he had ever met saw in an alley redneck like him.
He was truly confused about the attraction, and it caused him to withdraw, to become cold and distant.
Now he understood the consequences of his reaction. “‘M sorry I hurt you; I didn’ mean for it to affect ya like that. I was bein’ selfish.” Daryl didn’t want to lose her all because he couldn’t get it together.
Bishop finally turned to him, a small smile playing at her lips. “I know the world is fucked up right now. And if I lost you…I might lose my mind—“ Bishop gulped down her nerves, “—but I wanna try this with you. Right now.” She shrugs, holding back hot tears that threatened to fall and swayed in her eyes, “I like you Daryl. Quite a lot, actually.”
And, with teary eyes, she pulls him into a hug. “I won’t fault you for saying no. Just know that the offer still stands…and probably will for a long time.”
Before Daryl could react she’s pulled away and headed outside again, this time with a lighter air about her. “You’ll always get your way with me, Daryl Dixon.” A soft chuckle bounces throughout the room as Bishop finally leaves. Daryl is left to wonder once again how he ended up so lucky.
And left to ponder on the perfect way to ask the most perfect girl out.
#black writers#excerpt from a book i'll never write#black female reader#black oc#fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x oc#daryl x reader#twd daryl dixon#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd daryl x reader#blasian oc#oc reader#rick grimes#judith grimes#twd prison era#daryl dixon x female reader#ooc daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction
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"Please?" | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Imagine
Setting: Season 2 during The Farm.
There's a little bit of Fluff (dividers by @dollywons thank you <3)
word count: 334
“Hey, Daryl!” You called out as you approached him and his tent, noticing him as he carved something out of a stick. You frowned and stopped in front of him.
Daryl looked up at you from what he was doing and squinted his eyes from the sun, raising his hand over his eyes. “What’dya want from me, woman?” he grumbled before looking back at the wooden bolt he was carving for his crossbow.
“I need your help with something, please?” you whined as you crouched before him, holding out your necklace and pouting with those begging eyes. You could’ve asked anyone else to help, but you wanted Daryl to do it.
Daryl looked back at you, slightly annoyed, as he grunted. He frowned as he put the stick and knife down before taking the necklace out of your hands and examining it. He let out a small ‘hmph’ before nodding his head at you to turn around.
You turned around and smiled, sitting between his legs as you rested your hands on your lap. You felt him behind you as he lifted the necklace over your head, resting it on your chest before pulling it gently and struggling with the clasp.
“How do ya’ wear this stupid shit? Fuckin’ annoyin’ to put on..” Daryl grumbled. He fumbled with it before finally clasping it together and letting go of it. You smiled as you looked down at the jewelry before looking back at him and blushing slightly. “Thank you, Daryl." you hummed.
“Whatever..” He grumbled as he went to pick up his knife before he felt the press of your soft lips against his cheek. He tensed and felt his ears heating up, looking towards you. However, you were already fleeting and giggling softly on your way back to the farm.
Daryl stared at you as you ran off, his face red. His hand came over his mouth as he cursed under his breath, looking away with a huff and a small smile before he went back to carving his bolt.
I hope you enjoyed, I had no idea what to write but I thought of this cute scenario, thank you for reading ♡
#probably daryl ooc but I tried#daryl dixon#twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#fluff#daryl dixon fluff#Breezy writes#daryl dixon twd#twd season 2#twd imagine#daryl dixon season 2#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you
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CLAIMED
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader Summary: Y/N and Daryl got separated when the prison fell and he's been trying to find his way back to her. After Beth was taken, he meets up with the Claimers. Daryl is determined not to fall into their convention, refusing to "claim" anything for his own. Until he finds Y/N wandering on the tracks by herself and sees the way Joe is eyeing her. Warnings: a mention of blood and dark themes pursuant to the Claimers
It had been weeks since Daryl had last seen your face. Since he'd last looked into your eyes, shining with unshed tears. Since he'd held your hand and told you to make a run for it, that he'd meet up with you when the dust settled. The dust had settled, but no matter how hard he looked, he just couldn't find you.
Maybe it was because he'd made the decision to get Beth out of the prison first. Maybe if he hadn't taken that time out, he would've been able to meet up with you. Maybe you'd been waiting for him, just like you'd promised. Standing at the relative safety of the treeline and defending yourself from walkers, waiting for him to show up and reunite with you like he'd promised. Maybe something had happened, you'd been forced to flee. Maybe you'd been overtaken by walkers, or killed by one of the Governor's men. Maybe it was just that second of hesitation that had lead to your death.
Still, try as he might, Daryl wasn't able to blame Beth. In the end, he'd made the decision to stop for her. And he'd have to live with the consequences. Besides, it was hard to hate somebody when they were constantly telling him what he wanted to hear. Beth was always going on about how much you liked him, how you'd find him sooner or later. You were tough, Daryl already knew that, but you were damn stubborn, too. And if there was something you want, there was very little that could keep you from it for long. Governor, walkers, and the vastness of Georgia notwithstanding.
It had been comforting to hear, and it gave Daryl some hope that he might not have had without her constant reminders. But now Beth was gone, too. Taken by someone in a black car with a white cross on the back window. That had been the result of yet another foolish decision. Daryl had hesitated. He'd sent her out of the house ahead of him while he dealt with the walkers, and he wasn't there to protect her. She was gone because of him. Just like you were.
It seemed like there wasn't any real reason to continue for Daryl. He held onto the guilt, the responsibility of rescuing Beth, and that kept him walking. But any hope of seeing your face again had dwindled down into almost nothing. He'd lost you, probably forever. And there was nothing he could do about it. Rick's group was scattered, he'd probably never seen any of them again either. Beth was taken. You were most likely dead. Daryl was really and truly alone now.
That was when they found him. The Claimers. At first they seemed amiable, but he quickly learned about their little 'rule.' Something that Daryl found barbaric and pointless. He stayed with them out of convenience, but he refused to even speak to any of them, apart from Joe. He knew exactly what kind of men they were, and Daryl wanted no part of it. So he held out, didn't say a word as the members of Joe's group took his things and tried their best to humiliate him. It had been made clear to him; all he had to do was say one word and they would stop. He only had to lay claim to something he wanted, and it was his. None of them would be able to do a thing about it, per their own rule. But Daryl had pride and patience and stubbornness in abundance. He refused to play their game. Let them strip him of everything of his. So what? At the end of the day, he'd still have his character. The kind of person you would be proud of. Daryl wouldn't claim a single thing.
They'd been walking without pause for the last few days. Daryl's legs were screaming and the sun was beating down on him, turning the top of his head into hot asphalt. He kept walking. The rest of the group did, so he did, too. Joe tried making conversation but Daryl refused it as always.
He hadn't been with them long, but he got the sense that Joe had plans for him. The grey-haired man was always sort of, hanging around Daryl. He always had an eye or an ear on him. He was watching him. It made Daryl's skin itch. It was like Joe was waiting for the day that Daryl would give in.
"So tell me, Daryl," Joe began again after his last two attempts at conversation went belly up. "You seem a capable man. The kind of man who takes what he wants."
Daryl kept his eyes on his boots, trying to look like he wasn't paying any attention to Joe's words.
"You're looking for something, aren't you?" Joe cut to the chase. The abruptness of it caught Daryl off guard. He stopped dead in his tracks and raised his gaze to meet the other man's.
"Huh?" was all he gave in response.
"I can tell when a man's looking for something, maybe somebody you lost along the way. Doesn't make a lick of sense, you being out here on your own," Joe shook his head. "If you tell me what you lost, we can help you find it."
Daryl was about to shake his head, spit out an angry response. Something along the lines of 'I don't need anybody's help,' or 'you can take your concern and shove it.' Something that would make you proud. But before he could say anything, one of the other Claimers called out from behind them.
"Biter!"
In the distance they all caught sight of it around the same time. There was a figure, blurred by the haze of Georgian heat. The closer it got, the more it looked like an ordinary walker. Covered head to toe in grime and mud and blood, unsteady, stumbling footsteps, grey and pale and sickly colored. As Daryl neared the creature he could tell that it was a woman, one leg dragging behind as it tried to put all it's weight on the other. That was unusual. Walkers didn't limp quite like that. They just went forward and felt no pain so the only limp came from the decaying muscles being unable to hold them up. This figure was deliberately favoring one limb over the other. She was also silent. No gurgling moans or undead screeches. This woman was alive.
One of the other men was raising his gun towards the woman. Quickly and quietly, Daryl hissed out, "wait, wait, wait!" The other man was too confused to argue, and held his gun steady without taking aim.
Daryl approached the figure a little more quickly now, the rest of the group matching his speed. They wanted to know what had him so curious about another one of the dead. It was as if the man hadn't seen thousands already.
The woman kept her head down, perhaps unaware of the group of men in front of her or perhaps trying to ignore them. Her eyes were trained on her own boots, watching the gravel under the railroad ties shift under her weight with each step. It wasn't until she heard the crunching of another pair of footsteps that she lifted her eyes from the ground. The sight she met nearly knocked her off her good foot.
"Daryl?" the name spilled out of her mouth before she had a chance to even register the sight of him.
Daryl didn't reply with words. Instead he picked up his pace, his hurried steps turning to a full sprint. He met the woman as she tried to hobble over to him quickly and her face confirmed what he already thought. It was you. You were alive and you were here, right in front of him. Injured and worse for wear, but alive. Daryl's arms flew around your shoulders and you buried your head in his neck. Neither of you cried but you both felt the weight of your reunion pressing down on your hearts.
It had been so long since you'd last seen Daryl. He'd sent you away to wait for him, and you had. But the walkers just kept coming, and eventually you had no choice but to make a run for it. If you'd stayed any longer, you would have been cornered. You'd managed to escape, just narrowly, and you broke out into the forest, heart racing. There you stayed for another few hours, hoping that your tracker would be able to pick up your trail. He didn't come, and soon the walkers grew bored of the prison and found their way towards you once more. Your sore legs carried you the distance to the edge of the treeline. There was a railroad.
You started walking, no clear direction in mind. Just forward. You killed walkers when you came across them and tried your best to avoid people. That was the easy part. You hadn't seen a single soul since leaving the prison. You had begun to think you would never see Daryl again, and your footsteps got heavier with every passing day.
But now, here he was, holding you tight against his chest like he was never going to let go. You wondered how long he'd been looking for you, if he'd given up like you had. You adjusted your hold around his shoulders, tightened it. If you had your way, he never would let go, and neither would you. You were both sweaty and covered in blood and dirt but you were together again. It had been a long way to go from where you were supposed to meet up at the prison, but you'd both gotten there eventually. You'd never felt so happy in your life.
But nothing good ever lasts for very long.
"Who's your friend, Daryl?" it was Joe. His voice cut through the moment like a sharpened blade.
Daryl cast his eyes to the other man. Scanning his face, he saw in his features nothing good. Daryl had always known that Joe was a vile, repulsive excuse for a human. But the thoughts he could practically hear swirling in the other man's head while he looked at you set Daryl's teeth on edge.
"Claimed," the word came out so effortlessly and the hand of his that had woven around your back tightened imperceptibly. You felt it and peered up at his face curiously.
"Daryl?" you asked, echoing yourself from moments ago. He didn't look at you, didn't make any show of acknowledgement. His eyes remained locked with Joe's, dark and cold and warning. You were glad he wasn't looking at you just then.
Joe seemed satisfied with Daryl's acquiescence. He gave the other man a simple nod and turned around to face the rest of his group. Daryl's body relaxed and he looked at you, eyes clear despite the flood of worry in them.
"Ya okay?" he asked, handing trailing up from your back to your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.
You nodded, "what was that all about?"
Daryl just shook his head. After a moment, "how'd ya find me?"
You shrugged, "I wasn't really trying, to be honest with you. When I saw you, I thought somehow you found me."
Daryl nodded and pulled you in for a tight hug that stole your breath. He whispered, "I did."
You pulled back enough to eye him and say under your breath, "is this like a cult thing? Do I have to marry you now cause you claimed me?"
Daryl chuckled lightly and answered, "nah, ya don't have to do anything. Just had to say it so he couldn't."
You nodded and chanced a look at the other men. Each set of eyes were peering at the two of you, dark intentions in all of them. Your hair stood on end and you regarded Daryl carefully.
"Making new friends?"
"No," he answered right away.
"Then maybe we should go," you suggested and finally tore your eyes from the men to look back at Daryl's face.
He nodded, "we will. Just gimme time."
You smiled at him then, and he felt his heart flip. "You found me. We have time," you spoke sweetly. He nodded, a light pink tinting his cheeks. The color only spurred you on and you said, "and hey Daryl? You didn't have to claim me, I'm already yours."
You were lucky he didn't drop dead right then and there.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#twd#twd x reader#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#x reader#ik Joe is probably ooc but who gives a fuck this aint about him#fem reader
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(〜^‿ ^)〜
#character: rick grimes#character: daryl dixon#post: art#type: family#ooc: i'm not that good at digital drawings i do apologize. but this was something easy for me to draw since it's based off my of fic#ooc: i love rick and daryl as brothers (ꈍ‿ꈍ)
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hi! would it be possible to do “nobody - hozier” ? maybe comfort where daryl has to assure reader that rick’s not actually mad at her after he’s had a rough go with her, he just needs to make sure she’s being safe? all sniffles and cries on his lap as he tries to avoid touching her sore bottom :’(
"he ain't mad at ya," Daryl tries as you cry softly in his lap, worrying your lower lip. You look at him with a doubtful scowl, knowing that Rick most certainly is mad at you. Daryl huffs. "Fine. But he'll get over it."
"Y'think so?"
"Always does, don't he?" Daryl's hand finds your back, rubbing slow, somewhat unsure circles. "He just doesn't like to see y'be so reckless. Can't say I do either."
"I know..." you murmur softly. "I'm sorry."
Daryl's shoulders raise in a slight shrug. "You'll learn. Rick made sure'a that, huh?"
You let out a whined "yeah", shifting on Daryl's lap to try to ease the pressure on your sore ass.
#this feels ooc im sorry#sigh he's so tricky#notsfw.gill#daryl dixon#the walking dead#rick grimes#gill's 13k celebration
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you know daryl could have just said "i never stopped trying to get home" but he said "i never stopped trying to get home to you" and i think that is a VERY IMPORTANT ADD ON.
also, there was a sadness in carol when she said "you loved her" which breaks my heart BUT daryl never confirms that. he never has, he never says it. and i think that is also VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE.
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I just wanna say that I disagree with the cast and producers saying Daryl has found a new family in the france survivors. Daryl may not want these people to die and wants to see them succeed, but he doesn't love them like he loves his true family back in the states. He isn't torn about staying in france or going back home. He wants to be home like yesterday. He just can't live with the guilt of these people dying because he didn't help.
But it has nothing to do with them being family. At least it won't in my portrayal.
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fwiw i'm still around! just haven't been about often 'cause of adjusting to grad school and working on tags i've owed since july on my main rp blog. i'll probably be doing some wade stuff this week though, finally :]
#[ iiiiif anyone wants my main muse (daryl dixon from the walking dead!) pm me!#i'm happy to share my url :D ]#ooc.#tbd.
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ever look at a trans headcanon and be like he would NOT trans his gender
#look i hand out transgenderification like halloween sweets#but some characters are just cis i’m sorry i canNOT see them as trans#this is about daryl dixon btw being trans is ooc actually#and most twd characters actually#guy so cis being trans is ooc#not to shit on queer headcanons i love queer headcanons i’m just being a bitch
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𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 𝗱���𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿 ?
the betrayal
you die at the hands of the person you love most. maybe there are tears in their eyes as they drive the sword into your chest, maybe there is none. there are certainly tears in yours. your mouth will open to ask 'why' only to spit blood instead. you will die never knowing if they loved you at all, wondering if you could've done something to prevent this, or if it was always going to end this way.
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(I'm sorry, I can't stop laughing & I love this
Tara: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.
Rosita: I sleep with a knife.
Y/N: Both of you are pathetic.
Tara: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?
Y/N: Daryl.
Daryl: 😩
#daryl dixon incorrect quote#i mean he is good protection#ooc#incorrect quotes#and he's better in a fight than just a gun or knife#just saying#and why could i see Ness saying this#😂#i love this
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Silent Bonds: Chapter Four
(I saw people doing pictures like these for their fics and thought it was cute :3)
Chapter Three
Daryl Dixon x Reader
word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Swearing, Violence, and Alcohol. (I think that's about it..)
You stirred awake when you felt something shifting behind you, groaning softly as your eyes fluttered open. You turned your head to the side to see Daryl up and getting dressed, buttoning up his shirt as he glanced back at you quietly. You could tell he was annoyed, not by you but by the hangover he was having. You sat on the bed and rubbed your head, not knowing what to say. Before you could say anything at all, he spoke.
“Everyone’s up. I think I heard sum ‘bout eggs…” he muttered, avoiding eye contact as he put his shoes on, his ears slightly red as he thought about what happened last night. You let out a small hum at the mention of breakfast, smiling slightly as you got up and started to get dressed as well.
“Eggs sound nice. I’m going to brush my teeth and meet you with everyone else.” You looked over at him as you pulled your shirt over your head, fixing your hair. He got up from the bed and looked over at you quietly, giving you a small nod before leaving the room. You watched as he left, biting your bottom lip and sighing once he was gone. “God…” you muttered under your breath as you went to brush your teeth, leaving the room once you were done and going to the main room to meet everyone else as they sat at the table and ate breakfast.
You sat down on the opposite end of the table next to Glenn as he groaned, hanging his head from the hangover. You let out a small laugh and poured yourself some water from the container and took a drink. “I told you not to listen to Daryl, Glenn... he’s a bad influence on you.” You shook your head at him and smiled as you patted his back; he groaned once more in return. T-Dog came over and put some eggs on both of your plates. You smiled and took a bite, thanking him under your breath.
After you finished eating and teasing Glenn, you returned to your room, collapsing on your bed with a sigh and looking up at the ceiling, thinking about the events of last night. Remembering his touch and his words, leaving your face all hot as you huffed and sat up, looking at your door. “What did I do…” you muttered and rubbed your face, your thought process being broken as you heard your door open.
You looked up at the door and saw Daryl as he came in, shutting it behind him as he looked over at you quietly. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to you, grabbing the leftover booze from the nightstand and taking a drink. You looked at him as he sat next to you; he seemed tense, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. The two of you sat quietly for a few minutes before he decided to break the silence.
“M’ sorry" he muttered, looking over at you as he took another drink from the bottle. You looked at him silently as you debated what to say; you put your hand on his thigh and turned to him. “It’s okay, Dar. We both drank a bit too much last night, didn't we?” you said softly as you smiled. He looked at you, reading your expression for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. I ain’t ever seen ya drink that much before, y’know?” He looked back down at the bottle as he went quiet again. You let out a small hum and smiled slightly, nudging him with your shoulder as he scoffed at you, the side of his lip lifting in a small smirk. “I can drink... I’m just not big on the taste,” you said, the smile on your face growing as the two of you looked at each other. He chuckled and shook his head.
The two of you lay on the bed for the next half an hour talking about random things, from your childhood to Merle, to the walkers, and then the group. You had made a snarky comment towards Shane that made Daryl snort, but the moment got cut short by the air shutting off. You sat up with a groan and walked over to the door. You looked outside, watching as the others came out of their rooms, confused as well. Daryl came up behind you as he leaned out of the bedroom, bottle in hand, as he nudged you back into the room with his arm. “What’s goin’ on??” he asked.
Jenner walked by and grabbed Daryl's bottle, taking a swig before he spoke. “Energy use is being prioritized,” he muttered as he walked down the hall. Daryl grabbed you by the arm and left the room as the others followed Jenner into the main room, meeting Rick, Glenn, and the guys on the way there. Daryl let go of you. He took back the bottle from Jenner, looked over at you, and pointed to the door. “You wait over there,” he said as he followed Jenner and everyone else to the middle of the room.
You stood by the door as you watched the group make their way to the computers; you didn’t hear much other than Rick and Shane yelling at Jenner. The group was quiet in their worries, Carol holding Sophia and Lori holding Carl as they watched the men arguing with Jenner. Rick turned around and pointed towards the door. “Everyone go get your stuff, now!” he shouted.
You were quick on your feet to leave the room as everyone else followed behind you, but you all stopped in your tracks as you heard an alarm going off. You looked back to the room as you saw the door closing and started running back towards it. “Hey—wait, stop! I’m still out here!” you shouted as you saw Rick running towards you. The door closed quickly, leaving you separated from the rest of the group.
Glenn looked around as his face was filled with fear. “He locked us in!” he shouted. Daryl looked around as he started to get angry, making his way over to Jenner with the bottle in his hand. The guys quickly ran after him and pried him away from Jenner as he shouted a bunch of incoherent words, almost smashing the bottle over his head as they separated him.
You had managed to bring everyone's bags out of their rooms and to the hallway as you tried to pry the door open, kicking it and throwing your bag at it as the adrenaline rushed through your body; you could hear a bottle smash against it from the other side as Daryl screamed. “Open the damn door!” Your heart raced in your chest as your back slid down the wall. You pressed your back against the wall as you slid down to the floor, holding his crossbow in your arms as you tried to calm yourself down. You had no choice but to wait until the door opened, knowing that neither you nor the group could break it down; this lab was made to contain anything inside of it.
After almost half an hour, the door had opened. You picked your head up and watched as everyone made their way out, picking up their bags and making their way down the hall. Daryl ran over to you and kneeled beside you. “Y/N! C’mon, we gotta go!” He shouted as he pulled you to your feet and picked up both your bags; you couldn’t get a sentence out before he started to drag you down the hall.
The group made their way to the entrance as Glenn sat down for a minute to catch his breath; T-Dog and Shane tried to bust the window open. Carol ran over to them and whispered something to Rick, causing Shane to make a snarky comment. Carol handed Rick a grenade, surprising everyone. Rick went over to the window. “Look out!” he shouted. You all moved away and got down on the floor as he set off the grenade, busting the glass open.
Daryl pulled you up off the floor as he pulled you out of the building as everyone ran to their vehicles, most of them climbing in the RV. Shane got in the Jeep, T-Dog got in his car, and Daryl shoved you into his truck. You let out a small gasp as you pointed to the building. “Wait—look!!” you shouted, seeing as Dale and Andrea slowly made their way out of the building.
Daryl didn’t pay attention as he pushed you down against the seat and covered you with his body; after a split second, the CDC exploded, the tanks and bodies getting caught in the explosion as everything blew up. After a few moments, Daryl got up off of you, panting heavily as he looked down at you. You looked up at him as you sat up slowly. “Daryl…” you whispered.
He stared at you as if you were crazy, staying quiet for a moment before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss as he hugged you close. “You ain’t ever leavin’ my side again—ya hear me?” he muttered against your lips as if he were angry at you, but he wasn’t. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his, breathing heavily as you nodded.
You both pulled away as you heard everyone start their cars. Daryl sat up and sat down as he twisted the key; his truck engine roared to life quietly before he pulled off the road and followed the RV behind everyone else. You sat back in your seat as you looked out the window, seeing the building wrecked and destroyed along with everything else around it as you drove past it. You didn’t know what to think; everything was so silent.
Thank you for reading Chapter 4 of Silent Bonds :) I hope you enjoyed it, I got a little treat for the Reader and Daryl's backstory for the next chapter <3 I appreciate all the love and support.
Taglist: @thevegandarkelf @dixons-sunshine @missriddle03 @imadisneyprincessiswear @raddydaddydude @unajay33 @trainboom @l0kilaufeys0n7 @hello-emma @filthanddust @moonbaby06 @moonbaby6 (lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist)
#daryl might be ooc#daryl dixon#norman reedus#the walking dead#twd daryl#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl x reader#twd#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion x reader#daryl x you#daryl twd#silent bonds
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The Archer’s Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp took a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.
Genre: Fluff, some angst.
Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.
Word count: 4.4k.
A/N: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he’d be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he’d be with someone he’s been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he’d totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he’s just started getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Anyways, I hope you like this!
Barely one minute prior, you had strayed from Daryl’s side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that had suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.
“Daryl!” you called out, attempting to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up into your ribs. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.
However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.
On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man whose body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.
A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person’s grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.
“S’me! S’jus’ me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight in front of you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one’a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab ‘em in the head, alright? S’the only way they drop dead.”
“What? I don’t—”
“Dun’ think ‘bout it, Peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain’t alive. The news weren’t lyin’ to us ‘bout the dead risin’. We got a real fuckin’ problem on our hands now.”
Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl’s truck. It would have been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.
Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren’t escaping without a fight.
“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly your knuckles started turning white.
“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment’s notice. “Ya gotta stab ‘em in the head as hard as ya can, alright? Dun’ think ‘bout ‘em bein’ alive. These assholes ain‘t livin’ no more.”
“Don’t worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I’m not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They’re not touching me.”
“That’s my girl,” he praised you with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around in the parking area.
As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver’s seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood-covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.
You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn’t wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he would have managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.
Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing’s skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.
“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky as his blue eyes searched your body for any signs of hurt or discomfort. “Please tell me the prick didn’t get ya. No bites, no scratches, nothin’.”
“I’m okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”
“Yeah, let’s g—”
The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.
“Y’all jus’ gon’ stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin’ truck? I did not risk my life gettin’ here jus’ to watch y’all become a mid-day snack.”
Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “What the fuck are ya even doin’ here?!”
“Helpin’ yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Daryl did not need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver’s side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle’s motorcycle. With all the chaos that had unfolded, the two of you hadn’t even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent, as well as Daryl’s crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you’d be able to wash them. And Daryl’s crossbow would more than likely come in handy.
“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.
You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed was not human anymore. If you didn’t kill it, it would’ve killed you. It would’ve killed—
Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if that was even possible.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned in alarm. “Oh, god. S’somethin’ wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”
“No! No, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It’s just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”
Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.
“S’okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon’ be a bad mom. With everythin’ goin’ on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S’cause of it that ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they’re here, I know yer gon’ do yer absolute best to protect ‘em. They’ve got the best damn mama ever.”
One month had passed. One month since the dead had started walking. One month since everything you knew had gotten destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life had been turned upside down.
“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn’t on your stomach over his hand that rested on your thigh. “I really hope so.”
You sighed as you washed one of Daryl’s jeans, subtly listening to the other women making conversation, the women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the ladies in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods due to the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn’t be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the first impression on your fellow survivors, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer’s girl, and you were pretty sure they didn’t even know your actual name.
Most of the women didn’t even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she saw or spoke to you. She offered you advice on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband’s socks, and so much more than that as well. She was the only one who you had felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, and even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you appreciated her on a profound level.
Without her, you probably would have snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you deeply cherished the friendship you had formed with her.
The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness reserved only for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.
“Ya know all’a that washin’ s’now ruined ‘cause ya dropped it in the mud, right?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.
You smiled and shrugged. “It’s your jeans. I’ve never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer right,” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin’.”
“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”
“Yeah, I know,” Daryl said with a heavy sigh, fidgeting with his hands. “But that Shane prick demanded that I go on another hunt again for some reason. I dun’ know why, ‘cause we have enough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out’a the camp if I didn’t go now. We can’t leave. ‘Specially not now.”
Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl’s eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there beyond the skin, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren’t born yet. His little Peanut.
You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and you did not miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session or something along those lines. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.
“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.
Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain’t no tellin’. Walsh demanded that I find some venison, and that might take me a while. Dun’ even know if there are any deer here.”
You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, Sweetheart.”
With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.
They had not heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that’s more than most could say about their own past relationships.
Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle’s disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing, praying that he was there beside you.
It was clear the two of you shared something special, a deep, profound bond that went beyond what the naked eye could see, and it felt unfair to them that they couldn’t find love like that. And with the world at its end, they doubted that they ever would be able to.
It seemed like Baby Dixon noticed their father’s absence, and they weren’t a fan of it. For the past three days, you had not managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again within a few hours, and it was not exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew out the contents of your stomach, so nobody knew of your pregnancy just yet.
And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus for you.
“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.
“It’s what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”
Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How’d you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”
“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I’m not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”
“I can’t,” you denied instantaneously. “Then everyone will look at me like I’m carrying the black plague and see me as just another liability. I can’t have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”
“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out, and she knew that stress was not good for the baby. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”
“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”
Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”
“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly with worry evident in your tone.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she reassured you. “I’ll just tell him I’m feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn’t corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he’ll believe it.”
You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”
She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days that has passed, that did not work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he’d be beyond mad if you did.
No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he would be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you would spiral into an abyss you did not want to go down.
The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.
“Sorry, girl. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.
“What’s your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you did not like.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.
“My story?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing with a low life nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the good-for-nothing redneck. Why?”
“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.
“Bullshit. There’s gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There’s no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what’s he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”
Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane’s deeply offensive, deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane’s nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.
“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”
Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane’s eyes, something unusual for the for the former sherrif’s deputy. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she had heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.
“Listen’a me real fuckin’ close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun’ care what ya say ‘bout me, but if ya ever talk ‘bout my pregnant wife like that again, I’ll do so much worse than jus’ break yer nose. Ya dun’ talk to her, ya dun’ look at her, ya dun’ even breathe the same fuckin’ air as her. If ya do, I’ll skin ya alive and feed the remainin’ pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”
“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.
“Yer venison’s on the table. Next time, go hunt for it yer fuckin’ self.”
Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol’s hold and took Daryl’s hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn’t even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong to them. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, and for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.
“I’m not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean-coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”
Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy, gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles whilst the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he would never act like that around you ever again, but Shane had made him break that promise.
“M’sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S’jus’... Hearin’ the way he talked ‘bout ya, like ya were some object whose worth he could judge... I dun’ know. It made me pissed. Ya dun’ deserve to be treated like that, ‘specially not when yer carryin’ a baby in yer belly.” He sighed and placed his good hand on your stomach. “Speakin’ of, m’sorry I revealed that yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep that hidden for as long as possible.”
You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay. They would’ve found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You’re amazing, Daryl Dixon.”
Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin’ one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut’s gon’ have one hell of a mama.”
“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”
“Love ya more, Peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling, his head still resting against your stomach. “Love ya too, Peanut,” he whispered to your belly, and it made you smile.
The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.
“Y/N?” she called out. “I’ve got that ginger tea I promised you.”
“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.
“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. It seems like Baby Dixon doesn’t like it when their daddy’s not here.”
“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won’t mind if I stick ‘round.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a light giggle. “I guess I’ll keep you around.”
“That’s real good to hear.”
Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother-in-law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.
“When the fuck were ya plannin’ on tellin’ me ya got that lil’ whore’a yers pregnant?”
Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother’s words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus’ say, Merle?!”
“Ya heard me, boy.”
God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that it would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.
Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#shopping spree hangout dreams#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl#twd daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead#norman reedus#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus x you
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Rainfall
summary 🏹 you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together
word count 🏹 9.8k
warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)
thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!
You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world.
There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.
You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind.
It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.
At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information.
You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.
Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones.
Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.
You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer.
He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts.
It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family.
“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”
The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating.
“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”
You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you.
“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you.
The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.
You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond.
Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it.
There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.
You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.
Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.
“Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go.
You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.
“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”
“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion.
“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.
He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with.
You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.
Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.
You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.
If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.
He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert.
“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.
He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.
“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road.
“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”
“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.
Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.
You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.
There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother.
He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.
That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.
You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.
No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end.
“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts.
This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?
You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.
It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.
There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.
You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.
Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.
Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.
The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.
You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you.
He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings.
There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.
Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him.
He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.
That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.
You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.
He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.
“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.
You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that.
It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.
“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”
You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.
He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion.
The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.
When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.
You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.
He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.
You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.
“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.
It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into.
The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.
You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings.
“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.
For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite.
You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.
He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.
“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”
“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.
You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant.
It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.
“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”
“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.
“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily.
“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.
He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could.
His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long.
But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.
You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.
Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.
You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like.
An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once.
“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.
“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could.
“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.
You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.
You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes.
“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.
At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme.
You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.
“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest.
“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”
It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.
If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you.
Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.
You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.
He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.
You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.
“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”
Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.
His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.
You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing.
Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes.
There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on.
You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.
Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.
In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.
It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him.
A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight.
The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.
“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke.
You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology.
“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”
You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you.
Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.
“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.
Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him.
Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place.
The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.
He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate.
It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet.
The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination.
“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”
“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again.
“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you.
It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.
“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”
He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did.
“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive.
“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire.
“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way.
“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”
He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now.
“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you.
“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting.
You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted.
“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration.
“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”
You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race.
“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.
“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”
Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.
“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”
You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.
A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.
“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.
“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.
Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.
“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended.
It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting.
Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?
He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.
You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.
----
The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.
You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.
Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now.
Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home.
You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out.
You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter.
There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.
The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.
You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building.
She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking.
It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner.
“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”
“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.
“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”
“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.
You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him.
There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.
“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about.
You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.
“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”
That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.
It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.
“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once.
Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh.
You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.
“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”
Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse.
You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.
“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.
“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again.
“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”
He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.
“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual.
You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.
It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.
You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.
Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes.
For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down.
It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead#twd#twd fanfiction#norman reedus#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixon fluff
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( I'm sorry but "pint sized redneck" got me 😂
It's the cutest & funniest thing to call a baby)
Grow a Uterus and We'll Talk
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.
Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff, an absurd amount of baby rabies, and fluff. Don’t blame me if y’all get pregnant.
“You lay one finger on me and I’ll bite it off, Dixon.”
You’d done the same damn dance once a month, every month for the past two years, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your boyfriend’s advances.
“Would it really be tha’ bad if we tried it out…just once?” Daryl huffed.
“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging, “Grow a uterus and we’ll talk.”
The archer playfully lunged at you from across the couch, but you easily side-stepped and took residence at the far end of the room. You reached for a stiletto to throw at his head if he came any closer.
“Still on the baby business, huh?” Carol called as she strode past the living room toward the kitchen.
“Ya know we’d make some damn cute crotch goblins,” Daryl yelled back. You rolled your eyes.
“That isn’t for you to decide, Daryl,” Carol’s voice seemed to toughen, even give him a scolding look from a distance away, “And if you knock her up before she’s ready, I’ll string you up by your balls and feed you to the walkers.”
The woman did not fuck around—and you loved her for it. Presently, you stuck your tongue out at Daryl as if to say, ‘See? I told you so’ and the man simply scowled. Flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the coffee table.
“‘Course I wouldn’t try if ye weren’t ready,” he grumbled, “Jus’ wanted you ta consider it.”
You joined him on the couch and nudged his feet off the table.
“Is that why you’ve been parading every baby in Alexandria in my face for the past six months? Hoping I’d ‘consider’ things a little more?” you quipped, raising both eyebrows.
Daryl paused a beat, seemed to chew on his thoughts for a moment or two. Then he offered you a sheepish grin and said,
“Rick and Michonne really need the free childcare.”
You were itching to grab that high heel again. Before you could, though, a sound thundered through your foyer and the front door was thrown open wide. In the blink of an eye, Rick had stumbled through your entryway, passed off his infant to Daryl like a sack of potatoes, and raced back to the door.
“Rick, what the fuck?!” you shouted before he could escape.
“Date night,” Rick answered in a ragged breath, gripping the door frame while he glanced over at Daryl.
Daryl smiled and held Judith to his chest like she might’ve been the most precious thing in the universe. You narrowed your eyes.
“He put you up to this?” you asked, tipping your chin in Daryl’s direction.
Rick didn’t hesitate; he said that he had. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl shooting daggers at his friend. Promptly, Judith pawed at your boyfriend’s stubbled cheeks and babbled.
Sensing the tension in the air, Carol gathered her belongings and contemplated baking her bread elsewhere—or at least give you and Daryl some space to talk. She started toward the door,
“Walk a lady home?” she said to Rick.
Rick shot her a curious look but accepted anyway. Casting a sidelong glance to the man on the couch and the woman who was currently staring him down with an irate look in her eyes—you—he quickly surmised it was in his best interest to leave. Hopefully Judith was too young to catch on to any curse words that might be hurled in the next several minutes.
“Be good, you three,” Rick gave his parting words before following Carol outside. The door crashed shut behind them.
As soon as it had, you were back on your feet and traipsing out of the room.
“Come on,” Daryl whined.
He followed your steps into the kitchen with Judith still cradled in his arms. There was a pregnant pause as you rifled through your cabinets, wordlessly searching for some ingredients to bake whatever pastry it would take to get your mind off the discomfiture of this situation—you decided on muffins, at length.
It wasn’t like you hated babies. You loved their big bald heads and their pudgy, wobbling legs. You loved the way they giggled and smiled and dribbled food all over their fronts. You didn’t even mind the thought of pregnancy; carrying a pint-sized redneck in your belly for nine months wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
It was the world that frightened you most. The thought of a newborn child’s slim chances at surviving a place like this. The fear of that alone was enough to have you fighting that dreadful outcome, tracking your cycle like a hound and fighting Daryl off every month when you knew that day was coming. You’d been pretty successful thus far. But by the looks of the man across the kitchen beaming down at the baby, you weren’t sure how long that winning streak would last.
“Wanna hold her?”
“No.”
“Wanna do her hair?”
“She hasn’t got any.”
Daryl shot you a look of mock indignation and stroked Judith’s head.
“You kiddin’? Little Ass Kicker’s gotta have at least fifteen strands by now,” he retorted, tugging at the short blond tufts as if to prove a point.
Judith smiled a toothless grin up at her Uncle Daryl. You all but had to leave the room to stifle the sounds of your reproductive organs screaming, 'Give that man a baby! NOW!' You clenched your stomach and turned away to start preparing the pans.
Daryl perched Judith on his lap and starting puffing out his cheeks. The infant shrieked with laughter. You assembled the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together on the counter and sought after a bowl.
“Dada, Dada!” Judith chanted. Trying in earnest to say ‘Daryl’ but ending up sounding like she was calling him dad. You dropped the mixing bowl on the countertop with a clatter.
“Daryl, kiddo, Dar-yl,” your boyfriend tried to teach her, enunciating his name a couple more times.
“Dada!” the little tyke howled again as she fisted his shirt in her fingers.
Milk and oil and— eggs. Where are the eggs?
You tore through the fridge and wanted to sob into the shelves with the sheer force of delirium coursing through your veins. Damn you, Charles Darwin, I am not in a place to be procreating right now.
You tried turning your mind to other things—cooking, crying, contemplating the course of human evolution—but when you turned back with the carton of eggs in hand, you almost sent the dozen of them crashing straight to the floor.
Daryl was pinching her chubby cheeks.
If you weren’t so violently inclined to breed a whole new gaggle of progeny with this man, you probably would’ve chucked an egg at his head.
You sighed as you dropped the last of your cooking supplies on the surface of the kitchen island. You planted your hands flat on the granite and stared shamelessly at the two of them. Daryl was feigning ignorance, tapping Judith’s tiny pink nose with the tip of his finger and watching her giggle. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, you spun around to kick the oven door shut and cut the appliance off, immediately.
“Alright, you win, you bastard,” you said in a huff.
Daryl looked up from his present occupation, eyeing you innocently.
“What do you mean, hon—”
You cut him short, raising a finger to halt his speech before starting toward the door.
“Shut up,” you muttered as you headed for the stairs, “Meet me up there in five.”
Daryl deposited Judith in her portable playard in a second’s time and went scrambling up those steps faster than he ever had before.
Silently, speedily, he thanked every one of his lucky stars and his best friend, Rick Grimes.
#ooc#out of character#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#fanfic rec#there's so much fluff#“pint sized redneck ” is my new favorite thing
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