#twd the other side

[transsexual-necromutilomaniac]

i have such sick and twisted thoughts about their dymamic

[frenziedslashers]

My friend: You're gay

Me: What can I say, I love Men. Women too. Men boobs. Women boobs. Boobs in general, scrum-diddly-umptious!

[letterstotheflre]

yeah no i’m never forgiving sasha for killing the dogs

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

🤨....Nah don't say anything, Colin. They stood next to each other for five minutes. Don't.

AINT NO FUCKING WAY

[nervoushottee]

it happened quiet | daryl dixon x fem!reader

Summary: [1.5k] What you and Daryl have is a soft quiet love.

Big Bald Ass Note: I’ve always had a love for Daryl Dixon. He was one of the first “older man” crushes I ever had many years ago. I’ve always loved his character and the way Norman Reedus has and still does portray this character is like no other. My favorite thing about him that I didn’t understand when I watched twd when I was young but grew into adulthood was his introverted character. And how his care for others was soft, quiet and subtle yet strong and profound all at the same time. As a person who has a quiet love, personally prefers it and deeply cherishes that quiet love. I had the sudden urge to write this. I’ve been getting back into my Daryl Dixon phase recently and I just couldn’t get this out of my head. Thank you to @moonpascal for giving me that little push I needed to just go for it while the juices were flowing despite my other fic waiting outside waving her hands hoping to be seen, This is a long author’s note but this piece is truly something that means a lot to me. Which is funny because this is literally fanfiction but it's still writing and it's still art and it's mine. 

Enjoy.

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. It’s never been something that just came easy to him. He never received it as a child and didn’t think anything of it once he got older. 

There was one time when he was really really young. He was waiting for Merle after school, his older brother’s school building a few blocks away, and he watched his classmates greet their parents. He saw the parents with bright eyes and wide smiles. Mothers kissing their sons on the cheeks and fathers rubbing the top of their heads.

 A strong deep feeling within his belly grew from the sight of it and it got bigger and bigger as the two Dixon brothers walked back home.

And when they got to their home, Daryl saw their mom had been exactly in the same spot where the two boys had left her. Face down into the pillow, an arm hanging off the side of the bed where a spilled bottle of Jack Daniels had stained seeped into the carpet. 

Daryl cried for the first time ever. He cried for something he never had. 

He didn’t cry when he saw kids on the streets with new bikes and scooters. Didn’t cry when his mom and dad would yell until the sun went down. But he cried for this. That deep strong feeling that he couldn’t name poured out of him and he cried. Standing in the hallway as he watched his mother sleep. 

Merle, barely a teen and was bitching about spilled liquor, thought he was crying because mom looked too still. His older brother checked her pulse and felt the faint thump, thump, thump. “She’s jus sleepin’ Daryl.”, he explained to him. But Daryl didn’t stop crying. He hunched over, clutched his chest like his heart had been twisted and shoved down into his stomach and cried.

When Merle finally found out why he was crying, the older brother placed his hands on each of Daryl’s shoulders, stooped to his level and looked directly into his eyes. 

“Dixons don’t cry. Not over that or anything else. We just weren’t made for that stuff.” 

Daryl never cried or wanted it again. 

Until now. 

Until you. 

When the world’s gone to shit and the dead are walking. You gotta learn how to start trusting the living. Well,  to learn how to trust your group. They don’t just become a group of people you survive with. They become your family whether you like it or not. 

And in the beginning, Daryl sure as hell didn’t like it. 

He tried to force it away. To keep himself on the outside like he’s always done. Still did even when his brother went missing when they went back for him on that roof. But when time goes on and people die you build something, you find something and you learn something. He warmed into being more into the group. To being something of importance to Rick and the others. More than just Merle’s younger brother.  

He remembers Carol telling him that he was meant for a leadership role but he’s never thought that about himself. And never will.

And getting closer to them came with affection. Came with a bond. With awkward hugs from Carol when he had spent day and night looking for Sophia. Her cropped hair pressed against his bandaged ear. It came with pats on the back from Rick and looks that meant something a lot more brotherly than he’s ever felt with Merle. With you and your small smiles and lingering eyes. 

He had to learn to accept it. To learn that it was okay and wasn’t out of pity. That it was something he was actually allowed to have. It took him a long time to and he still only takes it in doses. Giving Carol a Cherokee Rose or the brief massage of her sore shoulder. Patting Rick’s shoulder,  hoping he knows how much his brotherly bond means to him through it. Nodding his head at you with the tip of his ears a bit red as he turns his head away from you. 

You’ve been a part of the group for as long as he could remember. And the two of you didn’t become something immediately. Daryl was an ass to you when all of this first started. He was an ass to everyone. But when he would small smiles from the courtyard, he would feel something that had never stirred inside of him before.

You were a touchy person. 

Always within arms reach of someone. Giving Lori a reassuring squeeze of the hand or hug when she seemed like she would just break down in tears from the stress of being pregnant in this world. Kissing the top of Beth's head when she came to you with her anxieties over the group's safety. Or playfully slapping T-Dog’s shoulder when he used to make you laugh.

But when it came to Daryl you never touched him. And he felt off about it. Thankful but off.

 When the two of you were starting to become something more, he had subtly brought it up when the two of you were on watch. It felt like pulling teeth when he asked you. And he would rather have done that with a rusted wrench than do this.

“I know you Daryl.” you said to him with a shrug. 

That was the only thing that you said to him when he had asked but it was all that he needed. As your eyes never left his, he watched you smile softly. The moon giving your skin a light glow. You knew that he doesn’t respond well to physical affection. To hugs or kisses on the cheek (except from Carol who does it despite the awkwardness she laughs through). You knew it was something he just wasn’t used to. Or even maybe never had.  It was only four words but it meant more to Darly than he could even say in a lifetime. 

And if you ever told anyone that he was the one that made the first move and kissed you at the top of the prison tower. He will lie until he’s blue in the face and say he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. 

After that you became more affectionate with each other. More touchy than before. Not touchy like Glenn and Maggie. Kissing each other goodbye when the other would go on a run or a quick kiss good morning. Or hugging after a run gone bad and they almost lost the other. Public display of affection to his partner, to you, is something Daryl could never really get on with. 

But what the two of you had was a quiet love. A word Daryl still had a hard time saying and rarely ever said but knew deep in his heart that he felt it whenever he looked at you. 

It was a quiet love filled with small glances and innocent touches. His hand against the small of your back or a quick tap on your arm or thigh. Your small smile to greet him and the nods that greets you.  Holding his hand underneath the table. Feeling his calloused thumb rub against your hand once or twice. Checking on eachother during the other’s watch shift. Him adding some of his food on your plate as he walks past you. You giving him a snack of whatever random thing you have on hand in the evening. Placing your head on his shoulder very briefly when there's not many people around. A mutual meaning of a hug when it's late at night and you won’t see him for a while.   

It was a silent bond the others knew about by name(ish) and feeling  but not as much by action. Those actions were yours and yours alone. And you both preferred it that way. 

Tender kisses and tight hugs. Soft caresses on the cheek and tracing fingers across bare chests. Whispered stories of childhood that turn into bedtime stories throughout the night. Expressing moments of doubt, fear or anger. Tears that would fall on your face and the feeling of his lips pressed against the top of your head.  

Even in moments when you were sleeping next to him. Your head on top of his chest or his arm curled around your stomach. Daryl would feel your wrist, his thumb against your pulse to make sure it's still beating. Or hold as still as he can like he’s tracking a buck in the forest to feel the up and down of your body to ensure you’re breathing. 

You became a big part of his life. This group (his family)  became a big part of his life. Who knew that it would only take the end of the world for him to feel something more than just anger for the first time in his entire life.  

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. But he learned how to be. For the good of the group, for himself and for you. 

dividers by @saradika

[kisses4kaia]

ive revisited my twd era and i can’t stop thinking about daryl and his softness during intimacy.. lord happy new year

he’s always been gentle with you, that’s nothing new, but the pure vulnerability he displays as you sit in his lap, thighs on either side of his own, is something so beautiful—you don’t think a million words could capture it’s heaviness.

“‘m sorry,” he says after flinching at your fingertips feather-brushing over the scars on his back, and you can feel your heart break as you imagine the resilience your man has been forced to build over the course of his years. “do they hurt anymore?” you whisper, kissing him on his cheekbone, tenderly forging a path with your lips from his jaw to his neck. “no, not really. s’times, when i stretch weird, though,” he gruffs out as you feel his muscles relaxing beneath you.

right now, you’re pretty much just cock-warming him, humming noncommittally as he feeds you crumb after crumb of his walls’ bricks. his entrusting of you warms you, and you smile, bringing your forehead to his before kissing him square on his lips. you find yourself rolling your hips over his slowly, gasping into his mouth as he groans, grip on your thighs tightening before lovingly massaging the fat of your ass. “beautiful, really beautiful,” he says more to himself than to you, but you don’t find it any less charming. “feels good?” you laugh, allowing yourself to move ever slightly faster. “mhm, love ya, love ya, i mean it.” daryl mumbles beneath you, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed with a deep fondness for the man below you.

“i love you too, baby, so much,” you gasp out as his cock hits that tender lovespot inside of you. kissing him on the forehead, you find your hands in his hair, massaging and tugging on the chestnut tresses affectionately. beneath you, daryl’s sighing and smiling and gently groaning as you push and pull your hips eagerly into his, chasing your high. his strong arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to the junction of your neck and your shoulder, nosing at your jugular.

the pair of you fit together, perfectly. not like a jigsaw puzzle, but more like water and sand. bound by the salt of the sea, the testament to your love is that of your mingling sweat from working yourself onto, into him. your flesh, his hair, your bones, his heart, there was no distinction between muscle and tissue here in this moment, (you two were merely beings of soul-stuff, bodiless and one with each other) you realize as the heat in your core breaks through to the surface and wracks through you.

you think he came before you, because once you come to your senses, he’s basking in the afterglow, softening inside you.

sex with daryl was always special, but he accredits it all to you.

[afreauxheaux]

"So the Brave Man walked all by himself to the bridge. Remember how he built the bridge for all his friends? Well, the millions of walkers followed the Brave Man onto the bridge, and on the other side, all his friends were waiting. The Brave Man couldn't let the walkers reach his friends and hurt them, so he blew up the bridge, and all the walkers fell into the water and he saved all his friends. The end."

THE WALKING DEAD 10.1/10.13 | TWD: THE ONES WHO LIVE 1.04/1.05

[wintfleur]

thinking about Daryl Dixon dating a book worm girly . . . they would meet on the Greene farm. She was a good friend of Hershel’s son Shawn, and stayed and lived with the family when the outbreak started. She would spend most of her time with Hershel and Beth or with her face in a book . . . she would like to be alone a lot, having her own spot on the farm away from the house where she could peacefully read and not have to worry about interacting with anyone, a spot that used to be her and Shawn’s . . . also a spot where Daryl decides to set up his own small camp away from everyone . . . well everyone but her. He would be hesitant at first to approach her when he gets back from another search for Sofia, seeing her leaning up against a tree with a thick book in her lap. He���d seen her around a few times in the short amount of time he’s been at the farm, only with Beth or Hershel. He’d ask her what she wants, assuming that she was waiting for him. She’d apologize, saying that she just wanted to be away from everyone, and surprising the both of them he said with a grunt she could stay as long as she didn’t touch his shit or start reading aloud. And for the first time he sees a small smile on her lips . . . but it was quickly covered when she lifted her book up from her lap.

Time-skip to after the farm falls and before they find the prison. They would become closer . . . well as close as two antisocial and closed off people could get. It was more like they found comfort in each other’s silent presence. She was so good at being quiet and finding her way around in the woods that she would often join daryl tracking/hunting. The first time daryl sees her smile since the farm is when he gives her a book he found in the trunk of an abandoned car. Since she couldn’t carry a bunch of books since they were traveling, every time she was done with a book he’d try and search for another to switch it with . . . would let her quietly mumble about the book she was reading when she couldn’t sleep and he was on watch. Would walk next to her as she walks n reads, making sure she wouldn’t trip.

When they make it to the prison, he’d bring her back multiple books whenever he goes out looking for supplies, and over time the small desk she had in her cell was cluttered with books . . . all from daryl. He would let her ramble about her books whenever they were on watch in the watch tower, him standing up and looking out while she comfortably sat on the floor with her book. He’d realize his feelings for her at the strange and unfamiliar feeling he felt in his chest as he watched her read a book to Carl and Beth who was holding Judith.

Time-skip to when they are now together, he would come back late from his shift at the look out tower in the prison and would check on her in there cell, expecting to see her sleeping since it was late . . . Instead she was curled up in her bed, technically now there bed, reading with a lit candle next to her. Not wanting to sleep without him by her side . . . and wanting to also finish another chapter. Whenever daryl would wake up from a nightmare she would quietly read to him, taking him out of his tortured mind and into the lovely world of her book. Whenever she was too focused on a book he’d surprise her with a kiss on her cheek or lips . . . completely stealing her attention. All she would have to do is bat her eyelashes and say please and daryl would fold . . . reading to her when she’s to tired to read herself, she feels so safe and warm when she’s in his arms as she listens to him read to her . . . he always kisses her forehead when he notices she fell asleep, tucking her bookmark a few pages back, knowing that she probably wouldn’t remember the last few pages he read to her.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( take this as my application to write for twd !!! I wrote this in 20 minutes at 1am, soo it’s probably not the best I just couldn’t sleep without getting this written down. Please let me know if I should continue writing for twd . . . I’m currently rewatching the show and my love for daryl just grows stronger !!! Again please let me know what you guys think, don’t be a silent reader <333 )

main masterlist twd masterlist

[holdmytesseract]

Dad-to-be!Daryl fighting tooth and nail to keep the reader—who’s water had broken while they were on a walking around in the Hilltop—safe while trying to get her back to Alexandria so that Siddiq and Carol can help with the delivery of their little one. (Plus maybe the post-delivery fluff that ensues when Daryl and reader get their first moments alone with their baby.)

No pressure to write this! I just saw your post asking for dad!Daryl requests and had this idea, and thought I’d throw it your way. Love you whether you write this or not. 💜

In the Eye of the Storm

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You go into labor while staying at the renewed Sanctuary. Daryl has to safely get you back home to Alexandria, of course - through a thunderstorm...

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, pregnancy, childbirth, baby things, mentions of blood, weapons, quite a bit angst, fluff, protective!Daryl

I tried to write this as accurate as possible. I'm no expert, heh.

Set in the beginning of season 9!

Word Count: 4,5k (whoops)

a/n: I'm not kidding when I say that I literally pounced that request. Gods, I loved to write this! Thanks for requesting, @dixons-sunshine ! I hope I did this justice! 🥹

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Daryl had a critical gaze directed at the darkening sky above him. The wind had picked up; bringing dark clouds over the Sanctuary. A thunderstorm was approaching - and fast.

Unbeknownst to him, had the archer started to chew on the inside of his bottom lip; causing you to gently squeeze his side. "Earth to Mr. Dixon," you giggled; trying to get his attention. "You okay, Dar?" The archer blinked and lowered his gaze back to you - his wife, who was neatly tucked against his side on a walk through the yard of the renewed Sanctuary; past the not yet growing crops which had been planted. You smiled up at him - slightly grimaced, but you smiled. He shook his head; "I shoulda been askin' you tha', sunshine..." eyes drifting to your prominent baby bump. You took a deep breath, but nodded. "Just Braxton Hicks, you know..."

Daryl's eyes drifted from your eyes to your (yet) unborn baby and back; a mix of worry and fear swimming in his blue-greyish orbs. You could tell. "Ya been havin' them already the whole day... Since we got up this mornin'. Ya sure this ain't the real thing?" Now you were the one shaking your head. "No. I promise, we're okay." "A'righ'." The archer jutted his chin towards the factory and looked back up in the sky. "Let's get ya back inside," he prompted and gave your hip a soft squeeze, before he started to walk; urging you on to follow. You nodded and scrunched your nose. "Yeah... Looks like rain."

With the first roll of thunder, Daryl closed the door behind you and him, without his hand leaving your body for even a second. He was so adamant to always be by your side; steady you and help you walk, it was ridiculously cute. It made you fall in love with the archer even more - not knowing it was even possible.

You giggled; one hand on the small of your back, the other on top of your belly. "Babe, you know I can stand on my own, right?" "Don care. Want ya close. 'Specially round 'ere... Ain't trustin' 'em..." You knew of course what he meant. The smile on your face immediately vanished; replaced by a concerned frown.

You understood Rick's intention; wanting to make Carl's last wish true. You'd do the same for your own child - within a heartbeat. You just didn't understand why Rick had charged Daryl of all people with the supervision of the Sanctuary. Sure, he was his bother, his right-hand-man, the one he possibly trusted most besides Michonne, but... After everything Daryl has been through here? After all the psychological torture? You knew it wasn't easy for your husband to be here. Even though he didn't say anything. You could feel it.

You took a step towards the archer; invading his space. Placing a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, you scanned his face. "Daryl... You... You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be the one having to do this. I'll have a-" You stopped dead in your sentence; eyes widening and heart leaping into your throat at the feeling you had just experienced. Daryl was immediately on alert; completely ignoring what you had just said. "Y/N?! Wha's goin' on?!" His free hand came to rest on the bump which was his child instantly.

You swallowed hard; taking a step away from him again and looked down yourself. A prominent wet patch was spreading across the crotch and inner thighs of your maternity sweatpants. "I-I think..." Your husband's eyes followed yours quick; realisation dawning on him right away. It could mean only two things...

1) You peed yourself.

Or

2) Your water broke.

The archer begged internally to whatever force above that it was not the latter. "Please tell me ya peed yerself..." Daryl mumbled under his shaky breath; already slightly on edge. It wasn't a fortunate moment for the baby to make their appearance... You were at the Sanctuary, for God's sake! Rosita and Eugene were the only one here you could truly trust. Not much medical supplies and even less people who knew how to birth a baby either.

"I-I'm honestly not sure, Dar..." He nodded; trying to keep his calm. "A'right. Let's, uh, get ya in a fresh pair of pants 'n check?" "Uh.Huh," you answered; nervously nibbling on your lip as well. You actually didn't want to 'do this to Daryl' now, but it wasn't like you could take a pick. It wasn't in your hands... It was in the tiny hands of the peanut living in your belly.

You felt your husband's strong arm around your waist once again; supporting you as best as he could and helping you to walk through the darkish, grey hallways of the 'former' enemies hideout and towards your shared room.

After the sweatpants and your panties were not much longer on your body, you and Daryl realised quickly that you did certainly not pee yourself. It was a different... substance - which meant the one thing the both of you hoped it wouldn't be... Your water broke.

"O-Oh, fuck, that's..." You cut off your own sentence; "W-What are we, uh, going to do now?" swallowing hard and balancing on one foot, while you gripped Daryl's shoulder as he helped you step inside a fresh pair of underwear and sweatpants.

The archer looked up at you; panic swimming in his blue-grey orbs. You could tell that his mind was working on overdrive to find an answer to your question. "I-I dunno, sunshine, I-" He inhaled a deep breath; eyes darting around the room. "Ya can't have the peanut here... 'S no doctor 'round. I ain't risking tha'..." Daryl shook his head and stood up; palms immediately lading on your hips. "W-We gotta get ya back to Alexandria. To Siddiq. Now." You nodded; clenching your jaw at the incoming contraction - and Daryl noticed, of course. "'N we gotta time 'em contractions. C'mon."

Trusting your husband and his decision making blindly, you quickly threw a few things you might needed in Daryl's beige backpack, while he was informing Rosita about the situation you found yourself in.

It didn't take the archer more than a few minutes to return to your side; giving you a helping hand and finally walking you back to the door, which led to the yard - but once he opened it, a harsh breeze hit him (and you) instantly; rain splattering across your faces.

Fuck... The thunderstorm... Daryl had totally forgotten about the weather conditions; too occupied with you and the baby. You did, too.

"Fuckin' shit," the archer cursed under his breath; trying to shield you from the rain with his broad body. "Well, that's gonna be a fun car ride, eh?" You halfway joked; trying to lift the mood, but without success. "I'll get the truck; park as close as somehow possible. No matter wha'... We have ta get ya back home."

The Sanctuary had borrowed a truck from the Hilltop for moving things and other 'heavy' stuff. It was the only car option Daryl got. Of course he couldn't take his bike. Hell no.

"Ya wait inside. Don want ya ta get wet 'n cold." You nodded; bracing yourself beside the door against the wall. "Ya good bein' alone?" Once again you nodded; giving him another half-smile. "Go." He gave you a last once over, before he stepped out in the rain to get the truck.

Soaked to the bones, he helped you down the stairs then and outside; sitting you in the passenger seat of the truck; not letting go of you for even a second. "Y-You're soaked, baby..." You noticed with a furrowed brow; concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you-" Your husband immediately interrupted you; shaking his head and squeezing your hand. "Doesn't matter. This ain't 'bout me. 'S 'bout ya 'n the baby."

You knew that arguing would be just a waste of time. It wouldn't help. And honestly were you way too tensed and stressed to discuss. So you said nothing.

"Ya comfortable, sunshine? Tha' okay fer now?" His voice was on edge. You could see how hard he was trying to not lose it. This spurred you even more on to keep a cool head yourself. After all, this was your first birth. Your first child. You wanted to panic and give into the nervousness, concern and fear, but you knew you couldn't. You had to try at least. For Daryl.

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Y-Yeah, I- We're good, I-I think. Thanks, babe." The small smile he gave you was sloshing over with nervosity and concern, but he tried as well.

Daryl quickly rounded the car and got inside the driver's seat; immediately starting the engine. "Let's get ya home." He started to drive, while you tried to focus on your breathing like Carol taught you. Both your hands splayed on your big baby bump; feeling the subtle movements of the child within you.

Some time passed until the next contraction hit you. You breathed through it; grimacing. "Damnit..." You gasped once the waves of pain subsided; noticing how Daryl gazed back and forth between a watch around his wrist you never saw before and the street. "Been 'bout forty minutes since the last one." You swallowed hard. "T-That's already quite close, isn't it?" He shrugged his shoulder. "I dunno, but... Feels like it." You shifted slightly in your seat and placed a hand on Daryl's hand, which was gripping the gear shift for dear life. "We're gonna make it, 'kay? Everything's gonna be okay," you tried to reassure Daryl - and yourself. You could see how he chewed on his bottom lip. "Shouldn't 'ave taken ya with me... Shoulda left ya back home where ya 'n the baby 'r safe 'n taken care of. Hell, I shouldn't 'ave left at all... 'S my fault tha' we gotta do this now."

You immediately shook your head and gave his hand another squeeze. "Dar, this is everything, but your fault. I was the one encouraging you to go... And I practically begged you to take me along, because I can't stand to be away from you - especially now. I knew the risk, but I made the decision. If anyone's to blame, it's me." Your husband just scoffed at your words and just as he actually wanted to answer, the sight of the street a few miles ahead forced him to stop the truck.

The thunderstorm hadn't calmed down in the slightest; was raging on and had caused a tree to fall and land in the middle of the street. "Shit... 'S too big ta move it... We have ta take a different road." His eyes landed on you, just like his hand on your swollen belly. "Can ya both hang on a lil' while longer? 'S a stupid question, ain't it?" You shook your head and gave him the most convincing smile you could muster in that moment. "It's not. I-I'll try... Right, peanut?" You addressed your unborn baby. "We'll try."

Unfortunately wasn't the fallen tree the only obstacle you had to overcome on your rushed journey to Alexandria... The storm was going on and definitely took its toll on the nature. And that wasn't the only problem... The night had settled over the world and the dead weren't exactly a help as well, and at some point were your contractions only fifteen minutes apart... It was a race against the time now - and your upcoming nerves. The closer you got to actually birthing your child, the worse it became. Fifteen minutes apart and you didn't even know if everything was fine and going the way it should down there. It was excruciating.

"Sonofabitch," you suddenly heard Daryl exclaim, which snapped you out of your thoughts. Lifting your gaze, you instantly understood what caused his small outburst... A few walkers were exactly in your way; stuck in the rain soaked, muddy ground. "Have ta get rid of 'em, sunshine," Daryl stated and already moved to unsheathe his knives from their confines; his barely dried clothes about to get soaked all over again. "I-I can help-" "Hell nah," he cut you off immediately; scoffing. "Yer stayin' right here inside the truck where ya 'r safe. I ain't riskin' a damn thing. Gotta keep ya safe." You nodded in defeat; realising once more that arguing wouldn't get you anywhere.

Daryl gave you a stern but loving look, before he took a deep breath and exited the truck. Anxiously, you watched your husband fighting off the undead threat. Sure, most of them were kinda stuck, but the noises had attracted more walkers... The headlights of the truck provided enough light for you to see what was going on in front of you, but not besides and certainly not behind the vehicle. The relentless rain made it difficult to see straight as well, and when another, much worse contraction hit you and the pain managed to blur your vision entirely, you lost sight of Daryl. Sweat was dripping over your brow as you couldn't hold back the scream which wanted to break free from your lips; hands clutching your baby bump. "O-Oh f-fuck..." Your fingers clenched into fists as you tried to breathe through the contraction. Agonisingly slow subsided the pain; leaving you breathless. You looked around through the windows; trying to find your husband. But you couldn't see him. It was quiet. Except for the running engine and the rain drumming down on the truck.

"D-Daryl?!" You called out; knowing very well that he couldn't hear you. Uneasiness crept up in you; threatening to cut off your airways and sent your anxiety skyrocketing. It didn't help that you were on edge already... What if something happened to him? What if he got bit? What if he...? Your brain already conjured the worst case scenarios, as suddenly two pale hands slammed against the window pane beside you; the tow curling growl almost giving you a heart attack. "Fucking hell!" You squeaked and clutched your now rapidly beating heart.

The hands clawed and scratched at the wet glass - but to your sheer endless relief didn't they stay long. With a dull thud hit the undead man's skull the window; blood splattering everywhere, before it got slowly washed away. The hands stilled, before they entirely disappeared. Blinking, you watched it happen, still somewhat caught up in your thoughts. But then, the driver's door got opened and slammed quickly shut again. A familiar grunt urged to your ears - and you could've cried of relief and happiness.

"Daryl!" You more or less whimpered; shifting in your seat as good as you could and turned to him; taking in his water and blood soaked appearance. Some blood was on his cheeks and water dripped down his long, brown hair. You reached for him; grabbed onto his wet sweatshirt and slippery vest. "A-Are you okay? I-I lost sight of you a-and..." You hiccuped; taking a deep breath. The archer immediately nodded and leaned in for a sweet, soft kiss; letting you feel that he was alive and well, before he moved to take your hands in his bigger ones. "'M good, sunshine. 'S a'right. 'M here." His blue eyes scanned your body then; lips pressed together in worry. "Wha' 'bout you?"

You swallowed hard. "H-Had another contraction..." His eyes widened. "Darlin', you had one barely ten minutes ago..." "I know." Daryl looked at you a few moments longer, before he gently let go of your hands and gripped the steering wheel instead. "We gotta keep movin'," he mumbled and kept on driving - and you knew he was right.

Luckily the truck didn't get stuck in the muddy mess ahead of you... That would've been the cherry on top.

It took you longer than planned to drive back to Alexandria, but in the end you finally made it - most likely just in time. You swore you were never that happy before to see the familiar gates of the place you called home. Daryl felt the same. You could tell.

The thunder and lighting had ceased by now. It was still raining, but not as bad. Due to the bad weather conditions was nobody on watch, but the archer knew that at least one person was positioned up in the windmill; looking out for threats from up there. So, he gave whoever was up there a sign; flashing the truck head lights three times and signalling that friends were standing in front of the walls and not enemies.

"Jus' a few minutes longer, sunshine. Almost there," Daryl tried to reassure you as he gently squeezed your hand. You just nodded; occupied with taking deep breaths.

Moments later, the gates got opened for Daryl to drive through, which he immediately did and headed straight for the infirmary; parking the car as close as he could get.

The approaching headlights must've caught Siddiq's attention, since the doctor immediately went to the door; trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He watched the archer quickly rounding the vehicle; getting soaked in the rain a third time. "Daryl?!" Siddiq called out; switching on his porch light. "What-" Daryl didn't let the man finish; cut him off mid sentence as he opened the door and helped you out. "Need yer help! Y/N's in labor!"

Siddiq didn't need more information. He knew and was immediately on high alert. The doctor opened the door and let the both of you in; instantly helping Daryl to steady you. Usually, he would've asked about your condition, but Siddiq knew the moment he saw you. "How far apart are the contractions?" You wanted to answer, but Daryl did for you. "'Bout six minutes." The black haired man nodded, "You got here just in time, I'd say." and helped you sit on the bed inside the room he had led you and Daryl in. "I'm afraid we have to get you out of these..." Siddiq nodded at your sweatpants. "Daryl, would you...?" Your husband's eyes were locked on you as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I got it. C'mon, sunshine."

While Daryl helped you shimmy down your pants and panties, Siddiq prepared some things he needed in the upcoming hour(s)... Towels, gloves and some other medical stuff.

"Alright. I have to check on you. Is that alright?" Siddiq asked carefully; knowing how... protective and territorial the other present man in the room could get. You nodded; trying your hardest to not scream due to the contraction you were going through. The doctor noticed and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. "Deep breaths, Y/N. We got this, okay?" You gave your friend another nod, before he went to check as soon as your contraction subsided again.

"You're about eight centimetres dilated, I'd say." "'N tha' means?" Daryl spoke up with your hand neatly tucked in his, as he was standing by your side. "Two more and she'll be able to start pushing. Means, your baby will see the light of day in the next one or two hours." The colour visibly drained from the archer's face. He knew that he'd be a dad soon, but... That soon? You, on the contrary just groaned and threw your head against the pillow. "Thank fuck. I want this to be over... Hurts like a bitch - and I finally want to hold my baby."

Siddiq witnessed both very different reactions and tried to hide a smile; quickly deciding to give the soon-to-be-dad a little task to keep him from freaking out.

"Daryl?" The archer's gaze lifted from where he was staring at the floor and gnawing nervously on his thumb. "Could you get Carol? I might need her assistance." Daryl frowned in confusion, but the feeling which started to flood his veins was happiness. "She's here?" Siddiq nodded with a smile. "Yes. She was on the road and decided to stay for a few days. Might as well call it providence." The man nodded; shaking a few bangs of wild brown curls from his face and nibbled on his bottom lip again, but turned to you; needing your permission. "'S a'right if I go 'n get 'er, darlin'?" You nodded; sweat doting your forehead. "As long as you'll come back to me... Go. I'm in good hands." Your husband gave you a loving look and gently squeezed your hand, before he let go to get himself soaked in rain again - for the nth time... Not that he cared, though.

The archer didn't even had to ask where to look for his best friend. He knew. After all has she been sharing a house with the both of you, before she moved to the Kingdom. Where else to look but there

Opening the main door, he stepped inside; calling out for his friend. "Carol?!" It didn't take long for the grey haired woman to peak out from the kitchen in the hallways; frowning. The frown immediately vanished, though, when she saw who the 'intruder' was... "Daryl?" A bright smile darted over her face, as she quickly bridged the distance to hug her best friend. They hadn't seen each other in a while after all.

"Ya good?" He simply asked; definitely enjoying the embrace of the woman he got luckily stuck with since the very beginning of this shit show. "Yeah, I am. What about you? And especially Y/N?" Daryl instantly retreated from the hug; a frightening, but also happy look on his face. "W-Well, uh... S-She's in labor. 'S why I brought 'er back here... Siddiq sent me ta ask for yer help..." Carol's eyes widened, but she immediately scrambled for the kitchen to turn off the stove. "Of course, I'm coming to help! Can't miss my best friend becoming a daddy, can I?"

Daryl blinked. "Best friend? Really?" Carol ignored his sceptical question and grabbed him by the shoulders instead; turning him around and maneuvering him towards the door. There were more important things to do now than discuss that.

Siddiq's predictions had been quite on spot. About one and an half hour, quite a few painful contractions and several tiring and debilitating pushes later, you finally held your baby in your arms. Since the doctor's announcement that you gave birth to a - as far as he could tell, healthy little girl, Daryl's mind had gone blank. He was physically present, but mentally, he was somewhere lost in a haze; trying to process the life-changing information... A girl. His daughter. He was a father now. A father!

Of course, you noticed. Carol and Siddiq did, too and all of you decided to give him the space and time he needed right now; just letting him stare at the white wall across your bed.

Only once the afterbirth was done, you getting cleaned up as well as the baby, the umbilical cord cut by Carol (Daryl would've most likely fainted if he was asked to do it. He already looked as white as a ghost...), a few further instructions and information shared by both your friends, and your newborn daughter wrapped up in a diaper and a slightly too big beige romper suit with cute teddy bears on it, you decided to try to guide your husband out of the haze he still was in. Especially now that you were given some time alone...

"Daryl?" You called out softly; voice barely above a whisper to not startle him. He didn't react, so you tried again... Same result. Freeing a hand from the baby tucked against your chest, you reached out to gently touch his arm. "Babe..." You whispered; letting your palm glide down the length of the limb and brushing the clammy skin of his hand. "Hey..." That seemed to finally do the trick...

The archer blinked and redirected his glance; eyes focusing on you instead. "'M sorry, sunshine, I-" His words quickly died in his throat, when he finally saw his daughter nestled against you; greedily suckling on your exposed right breast and making the cutest little noises he had ever heard. You smiled tiredly and slipped your fingers through his; giving them a soft squeeze. "Your baby girl, Daryl... Your daughter..." He swallowed and lifted his free hand; almost hesitatingly hovering over the infant, before his pointer finger came into contact with her soft cheek.

Daryl gasped; releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. You watched the interaction with loving eyes; only now noticing that the small girl had stopped nursing and was wriggling around in your hold instead. Her eyes were closed and she had her legs pulled up against her belly; tiny fingers clenching and unclenching.

Your husband had cupped her head now, which was covered in a dark brown fuzz. "She's perfect, darlin'..." Daryl whispered after a long moment; smiling that smile you loved so much.

"Do you want to hold her?"

That question caused Daryl's hand to immediately stop caressing his daughter's head. "I-I..." He stammered; nervous, yet with such a strong urge. "Y-Yeah, I... I wanna hold 'er." You patted the empty space on the bed beside you. "C'mere, then." The archer followed your 'command' and switched from the chair to sit on the bed. Only now did you notice that he hadn't changed yet and that the shirt he wore was still damp. Worry roared to life within you. You didn't want him to catch a cold or even something worse...

"Baby, you should change... I don't want you to get sick..." Daryl shook his head. "Do want ta leave ya..." "I know..." You bit your lip; uncertain if you should propose the suggestion in your mind or not. "Then, uh... How about you take the shirt and vest off? Carol and Siddiq won't be here for at least another hour and skin-on-skin contact with your daughter would be good, too... Helps her bond with you." You gave him a soft smile. "It's your decision, though. I won't force you to do anything."

You could practically see the gears turning in your husband's head, but in the end he nodded and started to peel the damp clothes off his upper body. Once he was shirtless, you started to transfer the little girl over to her father. "Make sure to support her head, Dar," you instructed him; noticing his eager nod, and suddenly was the infant tucked in the crook of his arm. She snuggled against his bare chest; definitely enjoying the warmth of his skin.

And suddenly the world stopped to turn around Daryl.

He gazed down at the tiny human being he helped create - and she was the most wonderful, beautiful creature his eyes had ever seen (besides you, of course). Love flooded his veins; heart threatening to slosh over with the warm feeling.

Yes... He'd rip the world apart to keep her safe. Anything. Just to make sure his girls were protected.

You watched your husband and newborn daughter; a tired, but happy look on your face, and you realised soon, that everything had been worth it... Everything you've gone through. Every obstacle you and Daryl had to overcome, just to get here - to experience this moment. She was worth it.

You smiled. Yeah... You could definitely get used to Daryl being a dad...

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

[ghostboneswrites2]

“The fuck’s so funny, little girl?”

“My Boyfriend’s Gonna Kill You.”

Summary: A group of men takes you captive while out checking traps, assuming you’re an easy target.

Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Warnings: profanity, violence, TWD things

Both traps you had checked so far were empty, but you still had at least six more to check. Daryl was supposed to leave a few minutes after you and catch up later, so you knew he’d be popping up any minute now.

Rather than waiting around for him to show up, you just kept on to the next trap, and the next. After some time you heard footsteps, but they were too regular to be a walker, so you just assumed it was Daryl and shrugged it off. He typically made sure to step heavily so not to sneak up on you.

….

Everything was hazy for a while. Incoherent voices that sounded too far away, blurs of shadows and lights all around you.

It took a while for the dog to clear in your mind but you eventually realized you were bound to a chair, and there was some kind of cloth over your eyes. The longer you concentrated on waking yo, the clearer the circumstances became. You only remembered hearing footsteps, nothing after. So, those footsteps had to be responsible for tying you up, right?

“Hello?” You called out. Some shuffling took place around you before the cloth was torn from your eyes. Around you stood three men, all probably in their late twenties. You could tell you were in some kind of camper or RV.

“Hello.” One of them smirked.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demanded.

“You’re with us now.” Another one snickered as he glanced around to his buddies, searching their faces for approval. Great, you thought. A group of douches.

“Where. The. Fuck. Am. I?” You asked again, this time slower, as if speaking to a child.

“How about you shut up and let us do the talking, yeah?” The third one snapped. The other two seemed to straighten up at the sound of his voice. He must have been the leader.

“How about you let me go and I forget this ever happened?” You countered.

The presumable leader pulled a knife to your throat in the blink of an eye. You pressed your body against the back of the chair, gulping against the blade as he glared down at you.

“I could always cut your tongue out if you can’t learn to shut up.” He threatened. With a tightly clenched jaw, your confidence faltered. You didn’t really see another option but to obey them, at least until you figured a way out. “What do you say, huh? Can we play nice?”

You sighed and nodded once in compliance. He let the blade drop back down to his side. You say forward again, exhaling with relief.

“Good.” He smirked at you. Your stomach churned in disgust. “Now,” he began, turning to his two goons. “You made sure nobody followed her?”

“We watched her for a while. Nobody was with her.” They explained.

That was when the lightbulb went off over your head. Followed. That’s right, Daryl would have been following your tracks. And when he didn’t find you, he’d surely find the signs of your kidnapping. Somehow, this made you laugh. Suddenly all your fears had melted away. It reminded you of a time at the Greene farm, when Daryl almost beat a lone wanderer to death for trying to corner you. If cornering you was enough to trigger that, then surely the men who kidnapped you were in for a sorry fate.

“The fuck’s so funny, little girl?” The leader asked, pointing his knife at you.

This only made you laugh harder, as their clueless faces contorted with uneasiness as the girl they just kidnapped somehow found humor in the situation. They glanced between each other and back at you.

“I said what’s so funny!” He repeated, this time poorly masking his nerves for anger.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said breathlessly, shaking your head as you tried to calm those remaining giggles. “It’s just that… My boyfriend’s gonna kill you.”

The boys were taken aback as they registered your words.

“Boyfriend?” The leader turned to the other two with scorching eyes.

“We didn’t see anyone.” They insisted. He looked back at you. You shrugged.

“He left after I did. He was following my tracks.” You said proudly. “Which means, he’ll see your tracks sneaking up on me, and dragging me away.”

They grew more anxious by the second. Just as they started to form a plan to watch out for your boyfriend, the door to the small camper flew in. The three kidnappers all scrambled for a moment as a looming figure stood in the doorway, casting a menacing shadow over the room thanks to the afternoon sun pouring in behind him.

Your heart fluttered a little. The situation was tense and dangerous, of course, but you couldn’t deny the feelings that crept in on you when Daryl’s broad figure appeared with a heavenly glow.

The leader was the first of them to try and rush Daryl, an attack which Daryl easily defended himself from. As the guy swung his knife frantically, Daryl managed to pretend to stab forward with one hand, while successfully stabbing the man in the torso with the other hand.

You were growing antsy in your bindings, bouncing your body to help work through the restlessness. Daryl took the man to the ground and landed a few more stabs in all over their leader’s body. You glanced over toward the two goons — who were onlooking in horror — and smirked a little as you mouthed; “Told ya.”

When Daryl had finally finished with the first one, he stood back up to his feet and turned his attentions toward the other two, attempting to cower behind each other. Daryl was a large man, and somehow he always seemed even broader when he was worked up. If you had been those men in that moment, you probably would have shit your pants.

Daryl’s eyes were dark and expressive as he eyed them, taking slow steps toward them with a knife in each hand.

“Please, no. We didn’t — we just do what he tells us, man — we—“

They began to plead for their life, one dropping to his knees and outright groveling once Daryl came face-to-face with them.

In one swift motion, he stabbed outward with both blades. The one on his right directly pieced the groveling man’s temple, ending his life immediately. The left knife plunged into the side of the other guy’s torso, as he was standing.

Daryl looked into his eyes for a moment. They were wide and full of fear and pain. For a split second, Daryl felt a twinge of sympathy. It was gone the moment he remembered what he had done, though. A rage washed over him. The idea that some men found you in a forest and thought you were free game. He clenched his jaw and shoved the knife in deeper. The man squeaked in agony, unable to even scream.

You didn’t even expect the brutality of his next move. In a sawing motion, Daryl sliced open the man’s abdomen. Intestines immediately began to flop out, squelching as the poor brute tried to catch them and stuff them back in.

Blood poured out of his mouth as he fell down on his knees. He dropped his head, staring down at his handfuls of organs that slipped out of him, before he fell face first on the ground with a thud.

It was silent as you and Daryl both took in the scene of destruction around you. Then, he hurried over to untie you. You massaged your wrists where the rope had rubbed you raw.

As you were leaving the camper, he finally spoke; “Boyfriend, huh?”

“Oh, you heard that?” You blushed. You two hadn’t really had a conversation about exclusivity or titles, but you regularly spent time together and showed physical affection on occasion.

“Uh-huh.” He smirked. With a bright blush on your cheeks you shook your head and looked down as you walked beside him. He didn’t have any words of comfort or affirmation, but he did lace his fingers in yours and hold you close all the way home.

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[nikkisheep]

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

Daryl Dixon x reader

Warnings: slight angst, near death experience, Daryl being an asshole, shaken reader, twd elements, Daryl takes care of reader, cursing, blood, Daryl being scared of losing reader, can be read as friends or as lovers. This was kind of rushed (sorry!)

Summary: While on a supply run, you nearly get hurt that could have left you dead and Daryl has to take care of you. (Request above)

Medicine, food, and First Aid. Medicine, food, and First Aid. Medicine, food, and First Aid. That is what you kept repeating to yourself as you walked down the road with Daryl a few steps ahead of you. That is how you reminded yourself why you were out here. Why you were risking your life. You had people counting on you and the hunter to come back. You had to come back to Alexandria. The entire community was in desperate need of medicine, food, and First Aid.

"Keep up the pace," Daryl said, tossing a look over his shoulder to make sure that you were still there.

He knew that you were the clumsy type, always tripping over air. He kept a few steps ahead of you as he looked for the town that Rosita had told him about. It was a run down town that had a couple stores and a pharmacy. Daryl adjusted the strap on his crossbow and stopped for you to catch up.

"Why'd ya stop?" You ask, side eyeing the archer as you walk beside him, your shoulder bumping into him.

"Why'd ya take so long ta walk?"

You rolled your eyes and walked faster up the road, leaving Daryl behind. You smile as you reach the town because most of the stores were completely in tact. There was trash all on the ground, but it appeared that no one had raided the stores.

"You get the pharmacy and I'll get the gas station," Daryl said. "Just grab whatever ya can grab."

"Be careful, Daryl."

He walked over to you, grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you closer to him so you will look him in the eyes. He had never done this but he just needed you close for a second.

"The first sign of danger, ya get out of there," He says softly. "Ya hear me? Ya get out of there, 'cause there is nothing in there worth losing ya life."

His thumbs were drawing circles on the apple of your cheeks before he let you go. Your smile drops at the loss of his touch. You turn to head toward the pharmacy, shooting one last glance back at Daryl who was already walking into the gas station.

Breaking into the pharmacy was quite easy, just break the window. Climbing inside, careful of the glass, you walk down the aisles. When you got to the counter, you looked through the window to see what the shelves had. They were fully stocked and you broke the glass barrier and climbed over. Opening the bag you brought, you start grabbing all of the pain killers, fever reducing pills, cough medicine, basically anything that Alexandria could possibly need. Your bag became full and you climbed back onto the other side of the counter. You stuffed as much bandages and gauze that you could fit into the bag and then zipped it up. You looked around the rest of the store and found some condoms and you laughed.

As you reached to grab the box, you heard a growl. Fuck, a walker was probably walking around outside. You continue to look around the place before finding a door in between two metal shelving systems. You pull it open and a walker growls as it grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you to the ground as you let out a scream. As you fell, you bumped into the metal shelves by the door and it crashed down on top of your shoulder and part of your leg, bottles and boxes falling to the floor.

---

Daryl was immediately attacked by a group of walkers in the gas station as he fought his way inside. After killing at least 15 walkers, his body was covered in walker blood and he stomped his way inside the store. He walked over to the shelves and picked up any canned foods and boxes of food. Most had long been rotten, the stuff that wasn't in cans so it was still limited picking. He grabbed bottled water and anything he could find that he thought was valuable.

Just as he was picking up a case of beer, he heard your scream. He turned and dropped the case as he ran to the pharmacy that was about half a block away from the gas station. When he approached the pharmacy, he saw broke glass and heard more screams coming from you. Breaking his way though, he ran to where there were groans and growls from the dead and your screams.

He shouted your name and he heard you scream for him. Panic was flooding his senses as he felt his heart beating through his chest. He pulled his knife from his holster on his hip and makes his way through. There were bottles and glass all over the floor as it looked like there was a major struggle that took place. Then he saw blood coming from a puddle. He ran over to the fallen shelf and saw that you were stuck underneath.

---

Your vision started to blur and the world started to go dark when you hear the sound of footsteps. You feel a tear slip from your eye when the steps get closer. This is the end. You were going to die. Then you recognize the figure as Daryl when he hollers out your name.

"Daryl!" You screamed as the walker on top of you kept trying to bite at your throat. You had one hand holding his mouth away from your body and the other was stuck to your side as your shoulder was being cut into with the metal shelf. Your free leg were kicking at another walker that was trying to hold onto your legs. In your head, this is how you are going to die.

Daryl came shouting for you as he started to make his way to you. You sighed in relief, but then screamed in pain as your shoulder pulled against the metal shelf when you tried to shuffle away from the walker that was pulling its way to you. Your combat boots were covered in blood from your kicking into the walkers head. Just when Daryl gets to you, a walker stumbles into the pharmacy from outside and lets out a low growl.

"Hey, sweetheart, I'ma get ya out of here." He promises.

"Daryl, my shoulder and leg is caught," You say as you struggle to hold back the walker on top of you.

"Okay, darlin, I need ya to push your body all the way down to the ground and I'll pull the shelf up."

Daryl, on the other side of the shelf away from you, starts to pull up but the shelf barely moves. He tries again. He keeps trying until the shelf moves in the direction that he needed it to go. He struggles to hold it as you watch in agony as the metal shelf pull from your shoulder, bleeding intensely from the gashes that was left. Your leg was free, but was also bleeding and just as you sighed in relief that your arm was free, you let out a blood curling scream as the walker by your leg bit into your boots.

You scream as you use your hurt arm, the one not holding onto the walker and grab your knife. You stab into the monster's head and then sit up and stab the other walker.

"Hurry!" Daryl yells as his arms strain from holding the heavy shelf as you crawl away from the dead walkers and to safety. Once Daryl sees that you were out of the way, he drops the shelf.

---

He rushes over to you and helps you stand. You cry as your foot is in pain. Daryl drags you out to a bench outside and rests you there.

"What the hell?" Daryl says as he looks at your foot.

"Daryl, he bit me." You sob.

"Hey," He said, his hands coming up to cup your face. "Ya ain't dying on me. Just keep your eyes on me. Don't close them eyes. Don't you fucking go to sleep!"

Daryl takes a look at the boot quickly and then back at you. You had closed your eyes and fallen asleep on the bench. He started panicking. He tapped your face a couple of times, but there was nothing.

"He didn't go all the way through," He says with a sigh. "He just got the boot. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay."

"It'll be dark soon and I gotta bandage you up," He says as he picks you up. He sets up camp inside a building that he cleared out. He blocks the door so nothing can come in and then he turns to you.

As you laid there resting, eyes closed, he cleaned your wounds. He was talking to himself about how you were going to be okay. That you were not going to die on him. A couple of hours passed and you opened your eyes and saw that Daryl was sitting beside you and you were resting against him.

"You could have gotten yourself killed," He said, smoothing your hair.

"I was fine," You sigh. "It's kinda funny though."

"How the hell is this funny?"

"That I scream and you come a running."

He looks at you with a pissed expression.

"That's not fuckin funny, you got yourself hurt!" He says, angrily. "Ya could've died."

"But I didn't!" You yell. "I'm fine."

"Look at yar fuckin shoulder and leg, then look me in the eyes and tell me ya okay.'' He looked pissed and you were making it worse.

"Daryl, it's literally a scratch. It doesn't even hurt!"

"That ain't no fuckin scratch," He yelled.

You rolled your eyes at him and then tried to cross your arms but flinched at the pain.

''I'm leaving,'' He say as he grabs the crossbow and starts making his way to the door. "I ain't staying here and watching ya act like you didn't nearly die and not give a shit. Ya wanna act like you're fine? Okay, act like it because that's all it'll be, an act. You are willing to act like nothing gets to you. Not even death and I can't sit here and listen to you say that what just happened was nothin'!"

After he finished his sentence, he walks over to the door and leaves. With Daryl left, all you had was silence and your wounds throbbing. It hurt so badly and you started crying. You almost died. If Daryl had not gotten there in time, you would have died from the walkers eating you alive.

You curl up into a ball and start sobbing as the events ran back into your head. The pain, the snarling from the walkers, the smell of death, the dread. Everything came rushing back and you just sit there and cry quietly.

You didn't hear the archer come back in through your tears and shaking breathes. Daryl dropped his crossbow and came rushing to your side and his hands wrapped you into a hug. Your body shook as you sobbed into his chest. He moved so that you were basically in his lap as he comforted you. He listens to your cries and helps calm your breathing. He didn't actually leave. He just stood outside the door for a few minutes before he heard you crying and then he rushed back in.

"I don't wanna die, Daryl," You cried into his chest, his vest becoming soaked with your tears. He shushed you as he held you.

"Ya gonna be all right," He says as he places your head onto his heart so the soft thumping of his heart beat would help you calm down.

"It was horrible. I th-thought that I was gonna die and I would never see you again. Daryl, I just don't want die."

"I'll never let you die," He says, calming you down. Your breathing slowed and the tears started to slow. "Not if I'm still here. Ya got nothing to worry about."

"Please don't leave me," You beg quietly. "Please never leave me again."

"Daryl's here," He coos softly. "I ain't goin no where."

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,692 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: War with the Saviors, specifically TWD S8 E13 after the battle at Hilltop Warnings: fear and anxiety, language, angst alert! Summary: You took an arrow to the shoulder during the battle at Hilltop and when the injured are sickened and turn, Daryl realizes his worst fear is going to come to pass.

“What the hell happened!?” Daryl spat, looking around at the now still corpses in the main entryway.

“I dunno,” Rick growled, spinning. “Maybe walkers got in?”

“Maybe during the fight,” Morgan echoed.

Daryl scrutinized the bodies. “These—these are all our own people though…”

Suddenly, there was a scream from upstairs and they raced up to find Carol standing over Tobin’s now silent body, blood dripping from the end of her knife.

“Are ya alrigh’?” Daryl asked, surveying the scene. Rick and Maggie stepped in beside him.

“Yeah,” gasped Carol. Her eyes were fixed on Tobin’s body. “He—he wasn’t bit. But he turned.”

They all exchanged tense and confused glances until Rick spoke. “Negan’s bat… when I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood. I just thought he’d crossed some but… maybe…”

“They have us workin’ for them again,” Maggie said. “Killin’ our own.”

“Poisoned weapons with walker blood?” Carol said. “It’s some sick biological warfare.” Her eyes drifted back down to Tobin’s pale body on the floor and her heart ached.

Daryl didn’t say another word and abruptly left the room, his boot steps receding rapidly down the hall.

“Daryl?” Carol called after him, moving to the doorway.

Rick hung his head and passed a hand over his eyes. Maggie put a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “It’s—” Her throat was tight and she had to clear it before she could get more out. “It’s Y/N,” she said quietly. “She took an arrow in the back of her shoulder.”

Carol’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God…” Her wide eyes met Maggie’s and stung with tears.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face and paced a tight circle. “And Tara too. And who knows,” he kicked out at the nearby dresser, “how many others.” He fell to cursing Negan, though he knew it wouldn’t help.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl lingered at the closed door for a long moment, staring at the wood, his hand moving to grip the door knob a couple times before falling down to his side. Finally, he grasped it and turned, pushing into the room.

You were asleep in the bed and Enid was sitting beside you. At the expression on her face, his stomach dropped through the floor. She looked worried, and had apparently been studying you. She shot up to her feet as Daryl softly closed the door behind him and stood there looking grim.

“What was all that shouting?” Enid asked.

Daryl gulped, his eyes fixed on you in the bed. “How is she?”

Enid hesitated and then returned to your side. She shook her head. “Her wound wasn’t life-threatening. But—”

“But what?” Daryl urged her to go on.

Enid looked down at your face again. “She looks pale and—I don’t know. Her breathing changed.” She glanced back up at Daryl, her brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

Daryl hesitated for one moment and then walked over to your bedside and scrutinized your face. You indeed looked ashen, and there were small beads of sweat starting to form near your hairline. His stomach churned. He met Enid’s questioning gaze and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, trying to gain control of the wild emotions threatening to crush him at that moment. “We think The Saviors did somethin’ to their weapons. Ev’rybody that got wounded last night turned.”

Enid’s eyes went back to you asleep in the bed. “No,” she breathed with horror. “Oh my God.”

Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough that the tang of copper filled his mouth. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat and did his best to appear steadfast. “Ya should go check on Tara.” His eyes strayed back to you again. “I’ve got this…”

Enid nodded, and with one final look at you and one anxious glance at Daryl, she quietly left the room.

Daryl stood at the end of the bed for a moment, watching the subtle rising and falling of the blanket over your chest. He thought it did seem a bit shallow. He slowly wandered over to the bedside and drew the chair closer, sinking down on it heavily and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his face. His brow tensed. The rising panic was returning. Your hand was lying on top of the quilt and his eyes traced the graceful curve of your fingers.

Part of him wanted to wake you, to see your eyes open and hopefully, clear. But another part of him knew he should let you sleep while you could.

It was short-lived.

Your breathing became shallower and more rapid and the clamminess of your skin increased. You stirred beneath the blanket and pushed it off, your eyes opening and a grimace passing over your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

Daryl leaned forward and you turned when you noticed him beside you, managing a tired smile. “Daryl,” you said softly, looking up at him. The corners of your eyes still crinkled even though the smile was a bit weak.

He chewed on his bottom lip. His anxiety was plain. Deep furrows were evident between his brows.

It didn’t take you long to remark on your condition on your own. You lifted a hand to wipe at the sweat on your forehead and then a shiver ran through you. He saw it clearly and tugged the blanket back up over you. “I’m sick,” you said. It was almost a question and then your eyes found his again. He saw mild confusion in them. “Daryl,” you said again. He looked so grim standing beside you. He held your eyes for only a brief moment before he felt the bubble of emotion rising up his throat and threatening to burst and he had to squeeze them shut. “What’s happened?” you asked. You reached for his hand, which was dangling at his side, and his eyes shot open again and looked at your fingertips touching his softly. He took your hand in his gently and warmed your fingers. Then his blue eyes found your ashen face again.

He felt like someone had rammed an icy blade up between his lungs and into his heart. He fought with emotion again and struggled to clear his throat enough to speak. Your eyes flickered between his, worried and puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak but then ducked his head one more time, passing his free hand over his eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. “They—the Saviors,” he started, his voice a mere whisper, “they did somethin’ to their weapons.” He swallowed down the tightness in his chest with great effort. “Ev’rybody who got hurt in the fight is either sick or—or already turned.” He waited for your reaction and forgot to breathe.

Understanding washed over your face and your expression fell, but you simply nodded. You seemed to shrink away into some depths within your eyes and Daryl was afraid he wouldn’t be able to reach you again. He fell into the seat at your bedside again and squeezed your hand. What could he say? There was nothing to say. No words would help at a time like this. You were going to die. It was that simple. And nothing he could say would fix it or make it any better. Your name caught in his throat and you looked over at him again. “I—‘m so sorry,” he said. His voice broke and the sound of it cut both of you like a scalpel. You were both wounded from this happening, and you would die, but Daryl would be left carrying that wound for the rest of his life. Why did you have to be the one to… Why couldn’t it have been him who was hurt? You of all people—it was too hard to bear. He should have been there. He should have protected you. He should have stopped it!

Your eyes grew glassy and a few tears escaped. You laced your fingers with his and gave him a sad smile, guessing his whirling thoughts. “It’s not your fault,” you told him. “They did this. It’s not your fault.”

He felt himself crumbling. “‘M so sorry,” he breathed again. He clasped your hand firmly between his and lifted it towards his mouth, but he didn’t press it to his lips, though he wanted to. His head dropped and you could tell he was struggling not to go to pieces. He was always trying to be strong, even when he didn’t need to.

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “It’s okay…”

“No, it ain’t,” he whispered back. His voice was shaky. “Nothin’ ‘bout this is okay. That bastard’s gonna pay for—”

A grimace tightened your features and your breath hitched. The sound stopped Daryl mid-sentence. He rested your hand back down on the blanket and a panicked look crossed his face. “What? What is it?”

Your eyes closed for a moment. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head against the pillow. “It’s nothing. Just—hurts a little. Aches is all. It’s okay. I’m okay…”

Daryl gulped down his emotion and regained himself. “‘M gonna be righ’ here. Ya ain’t gonna be alone. Okay?” His thumb moved against the silky skin on the back of your hand and you nodded.

“I know,” you said, managing another weak smile.

Suddenly, the door opened quietly and Enid came back in with Maggie trailing behind her. Both of you looked up.

Enid’s face fell as she readily saw your worsened condition. Maggie’s eyes filled with a glassy light as she came to stand beside Daryl.

“How’s Tara?” Daryl asked.

“She’s not sick,” Enid replied. “No sign of the fever yet.”

“Good,” Daryl said, staring back at the paleness of your hand in his.

“But we’ve got six more so far in here, and likely more outside. I sent Carol and Jesus to check on everyone, including the prisoners,” Maggie said. She bent down and stroked your hair. Her eyes filled with tears again. “‘M so sorry,” she whispered to you. “Do ya need anythin’? Anything we can do to make you more comfortable, just ask and we’ll do everything we can.”

Daryl’s head dropped and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll—‘m gonna be righ’ back,” he murmured. He met your eyes again. Your brow was furrowed and you were watching him carefully. “‘M gonna be back in just a minute. I promise,” he said softly.

The chair made a harsh noise as he stood up and your eyes tracked him all the way out the door.

Out in the hall, Daryl put some distance between himself and your room, striding down to the end of the hall and standing at the window, staring out at the beginnings of dawn just starting to tickle the deep blue sky with shots of pink and yellow. His fists clenched and his nails cut in little red crescent moon marks on his palms. How the fuck was the sun still coming up when you were laying in a bed dying? It felt like nothing should go on as normal ever again. He suddenly kicked out at the tall wooden cabinet beside him and it rocked and wobbled. And then he broke down. His head dropped and it was all he could do not to scream in agony at the painful chasm in his chest, sticking between his lungs and growing larger and larger as you paled and ached in that bed. Tears poured down his face and he pressed his forehead to the coolness of the glass in front of him.

He startled as a hand landed lightly on his shoulder and he hurriedly mopped his face, but when he turned he knew Maggie had already seen his overwhelming distress and grief. His shoulders shuddered as he gasped in a ragged breath and he shook his head. He saw his own pain, or some version of it, reflected on her face, and he thought of Glenn.

She only nodded and pulled him into a hug briefly. He sniffled and managed to get his breaking under control again. “Go on and be with her again. Enid and I will look after the others. Listen—when it’s time to say goodbye—”

He nodded. “I’ll send somebody to get ya’ll,” he croaked out. He mopped at his damp face again and pulled in a breath.

“Daryl, if you haven’t already, you need to tell her,” Maggie said. And with that, she headed downstairs.

Daryl took a few more deep breaths, steeled himself, and rushed back to your room. Enid gave you a kind smile and released her hold on your hand and quietly took her leave. Daryl swallowed hard and came to sit beside you again. Your eyes followed him across the room.

Your skin was feverish and he could see it making your hair and clothes damp. Had those dark circles been beneath your eyes when he’d stepped out? How long was he gone? How many minutes? It couldn’t have been more than a few, and yet you looked far worse… He got up and went to a pitcher and basin on the chest of drawers and poured in some water. Pulling out the bandana he always carried, he dunked it into the bowl and carried the whole thing over to the nightstand.

You watched him swirl the cloth in the water and wring it out. He pressed it to your forehead and it was cool. Your eyes were still trained on him. He knew you’d likely be able to tell why he’d stepped out of the room. “Here. Drink a little water if ya can,” he said, helping you with a glass Enid had brought.

You swallowed thickly and he set it aside again. “Are you alright?” you asked him. Your voice sounded thin.

He let out a dry laugh as he refreshed his bandana in the water again and dabbed at your neck. “Yer askin’ me that?” he drawled.

“Daryl,” you said softly, and your hand came up to grip his wrist, surprisingly strong. He met your eyes again and yours flickered between his.

He bit down on his bottom lip hard, trying to fight back the tidal wave and scream in his chest. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at you. Your hand floated back to the bed and the place your fingers had been felt hot. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No,” he said. “I ain’t alrigh’. And I dunno if I’ll—if I will be.”

A shiver ran through you and Daryl tossed his bandana back down in the bowl and helped you pull the blankets up to your chin. You sighed and your eyes shut for a long moment. Daryl was afraid they wouldn’t open again, but they did. And when you looked straight at him, they seemed clearer somehow, and you smiled at him again despite the devastation written all over his face.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” he asked. There was a rasp to his voice.

“You,” you breathed. “Just you.”

He ducked his head, listening to each of your breaths, analyzing them for any change. He was far too aware of his knife on his hip.

“I need you to promise me something,” you said.

“Anythin’,” he nodded, leaning in.

“Don’t let this consume you. Please. Negan’s taken enough. Don’t end up one of the casualties too. You have so much good in you. Don’t let him take that away.”

He stared at you for a long moment and then suddenly stood up and leaned over you. His rough fingers brushed gently at your hair and then clasped your face. In that moment, maybe some trick of the changing light, but he thought you looked less ashen. He saw more color in your lips and in your cheeks. Your eyes were bright.

He kissed you then. His lips landed flush against the soft pillow of yours, and it was tender and wanting and desperate and soft all at the same time. He tried to put everything he wanted to say into that kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but both of you mourned the separation, felt the profoundness of that connection as it had shifted your whole world. He sank back down at your bedside and grabbed your hand in his again, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He refused to take his eyes off you now.

A smile grew slowly on your face and though your eyelids were heavy, the outer corners of your eyes smiled too, like they always did. “How’d you know that was on my bucket list? ‘Kiss Daryl Dixon.’”

He brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers and shook his head at you.

“I can die happy now,” you said.

“I shoulda told ya every damn day… I thought—I thought we had more time.” His voice broke on the last word.

“So did I,” you agreed. “Life’s a motherfucker like that,” you said dryly.

He almost laughed. “What ‘m tryin’ to say is I—ya know, I—” The words stuck in his chest. He couldn’t seem to get them out no matter how much he wanted to. I’ve been in love with you almost since I met ya.

“I know,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to say it, Daryl. I felt it too.” Your eyes closed again and you sighed, another grimace passed your face as your joints and muscles throbbed. “I’m not sure I can stay awake much longer,” you murmured. “I’m so tired.” You forced your eyes open again. “Would you lay with me? Please?”

Daryl’s chest ached so intensely he thought he would die of it. “Course I will.”

He came around to the other side of the bed and climbed on, scooting over toward your side until your body was almost against his. “C’mere,” he drawled, and he gently looped his arm underneath you and pulled you toward him. You felt featherlight in his arms. You laid tucked in against his body and closed your eyes. This close to you, he could easily hear your every breath, feel every shudder of your body, feel the fever and the chills—but he could also feel the shape of you, your weight, breathe your smell. Your head rested against his shoulder and nuzzled toward the crook of his neck.

“I’m so tired,” you said again, sighing. He could feel your breath on his skin. The silence stretched and his rough fingers drew absent shapes on the bare skin of your arm. Your weight grew heavier against him. “I want you to know… it’s alright if you can’t do it. At the end… It doesn’t have to be you. I need you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. Someone else can…” you trailed off.

He gulped and nodded. “I’mma be righ’ here.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your eyes were closed. “I love you…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love ya too...” His voice broke, but you didn’t hear it. You were already asleep.

He didn’t know how long he had laid there with you. He was still scrutinizing your every breath and every moment, waiting for the horrific change to take place, or waiting for you to awake in agony as the sickness progressed. But so far, you just slept on. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to, anyway.

Eventually, the door creaked open and Rick stepped in barely over the threshold before he froze, seeing Daryl there with you on the bed. They locked eyes for a moment, Rick’s eyes grew glassy and he gave a nod, but then he immediately retreated. No one should intrude on that scene. And he made sure no one would, unless they were called for.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was staring at the bright sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. He had no concept of time as he lay there with you asleep against him. Every moment felt agonizingly long and cruelly short at the same time. He was watching the dust particles floating in the currents of air when you stirred. Your hand landed flush to the center of his chest and you turned on your side almost curling into him. He gently took your hand in his and ran his thumb over your soft skin.

Your stirred again and let out a sigh, stretching beside him. Your eyes blinked open. “Daryl…” you said suddenly.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Yeah. ‘M righ’ here.”

“I—I know.” You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand, still angled in toward him. “Daryl, look at me.”

He did. Your eyes were wide and surprised, but beyond that you looked… like yourself. The color was back in your face, in your lips. Your eyes were bright and clear. You looked well. Your name slipped past his lips.

“I’m not sick,” you said with disbelief. “I don’t feel—I mean, my bones felt like glass before. And—I’m not hot or cold. I—”

Daryl was sitting up now too, staring at you bewildered. He clasped your face and pressed his hand to your forehead. You didn’t feel feverish. Your skin wasn’t clammy. “Ya ain’t sick…” he drawled, the same disbelief dripping from every word. “Ya ain’t—” A laugh bubbled out of you as he popped up onto his knees, kneeling in front of you on the bed, staring with bafflement. “How—how?”

You shook your head. “I—I don’t know…” you stammered, your heart racing. “I felt—I was dying. I felt it. And now—I still feel like I got hit by a truck, and my shoulder hurts like a bitch but—I’m not sick.”

Daryl took your face in both of his hands and his lips crashed down onto yours. You arched into him and kissed him back, relishing the feeling of his hands drifting down to your waist and gently pressing on your lower back to pull you in against him. He still looked dumbfounded when the two of you broke apart, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I gotta—we gotta—” Daryl vaulted himself off the bed, leaving you kneeling in the middle of it, surrounded by the rumpled blankets. He ripped the door open and shouted out into the hallway. “Maggie! Enid!” He turned back to stare at you, his chest heaving as he seemed to have lost his breath. A stampede of footsteps answered and soon Enid, Maggie, Rosita, Rick, Michonne, Carol—even Tara—were bursting in looking grim and worried. Seeing their expressions, Daryl realized they all thought it was time to say goodbye to you. He hurried to correct their assumption. “She—she ain’t sick. Look! Her fever’s gone and she—she ain’t sick anymore.”

All eyes drifted to you sitting upright on the bed, almost looking as if nothing had happened to you at all.

Enid stepped forward, shock written on her face, and you could only smile as she reached a hand out and pressed the back of it to your forehead. She snapped around to look at everyone else again, a teary smile on her face. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she said, shaking her head.

A whoop went up through the room and soon nearly everyone was hugging you and kissing your cheek, patting you on the back as if you’d done anything at all consciously. But Daryl simply stood by the door, leaned up against the wall watching the scene with a teary smile on his face that wasn’t budging. As the last of your family hugged you, your eyes connected with his again and you felt a shock of electricity run up your back and butterflies erupted in your chest.

“I—I don’t understand how this is possible!” Carol laughed happily.

Rick was shaking his head, smiling.

“Has anyone ever heard of this happening before?” Rosita asked. “I mean, should we still be worried?”

Enid shrugged and shook her head, looking at a loss. “Well, it’s not the same as a bite. It seems like maybe her body was able to fight off the infection.”

Rick rubbed a thoughtful hand over his face. “Maybe it’s like how some people get sick from gutting up the first time, some people the twentieth, and some people never do.”

“Some combination of immune system and dosage maybe,” Maggie said thoughtfully, her eyes still glassy with happy tears.

“Well, whatever it is, thank God. We needed another win,” Michonne said.

Enid nodded and looked back at you on the bed. Daryl was still leaned up against the wall by the door. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. “She may not have a fever anymore but I don’t want to push it. Back in bed,” she said, grabbing hold of the blankets again. “I want you to rest. Your body has been through a lot.”

You moved a little gingerly laying down again, realizing now that your shoulder that had taken the poisoned arrow did still hurt a lot. “I’ll rest… feels like I’m still trying to shake the worse flu of my life.” Exhaustion was settling back over you again. The adrenaline had waned. But your cheeks and lips still had a healthy, rosy glow.

Enid filled the glass on the nightstand with fresh water again for you and instructed everyone to leave so you could sleep. Everyone listened, except Daryl. And somehow, everyone knew he was the exception.

He shut the door softly behind Tara as she went out and the two of you were alone again. He wandered back over to the bedside and you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes growing tired again.

“Are you still going to keep watch over me?” you asked him.

He nodded. “Mhm… now and every damn day of yer life. If you’ll have me that is…” he said a little abashedly, ducking his head. “Actually, ‘m gonna do that whether ya want me to or not.”

You smiled. “Can you do that from in this bed again? Please?”

“Are ya kiddin’?” He climbed in beside you again and you rolled toward him, tucking yourself into his body. Your breathing was strong and steady; no sign of the ragged, shallow respiration that had plagued you overnight.

“You want to know what I think saved me?” you asked, resting your head on his chest, your arm draped over him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, now feeling his own exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket. Now that the terror and devastation and fear and grief had receded, he was drained.

“I think you cured me. With that kiss,” you said, and he could hear a smile in your voice. “Love saved us. The universe decided it couldn’t separate us.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale. “I ain’t magic. Pretty sure this ain’t a fairy tale.”

You sighed and nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “I’m starting to think it might be,” you whispered sleepily.

Daryl’s cheek pressed against the top of your head. He tugged you in more snugly and paused thoughtfully. “Well… I do kinda gotta agree with ya there. Now, sleep,” he hushed you. “I dun wanna risk anythin’. Ya need rest.”

“You too,” you said with a yawn. “And now we’ve got time.”

[maretinelli]

A SURPRISE OF LOVE

Daryl Dixon X fem!reader

Summary: Where Daryl's wife goes on a patrol and arrives all injured, but during the exams Daryl discovers another member.

Words: 1.7K+

Warnings: Blood, bruises, TWD characters, pregnancy, Daryl daddy, and happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes that may be made. Second, I love Daryl and I wanted him to be the father of my children. That's it!!

MASTERLIST

Things weren't going well in Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop. With the arrival of the Whisperers, it seemed like everything had turned upside down again.

But giving up wasn't something they really wanted to do. They would fight as many times as it took to keep everyone they loved safe.

"I'll go with you," Daryl says, approaching his wife near the Hilltop gates.

Y/n turns around quickly at the man's voice.

"No, you don't need to. I'm just going to take a look at the neighborhood I saw nearby, there might be some supplies to share with Alexandria and Reino." S/n says without worries and smiles.

"I'll go with you," Daryl says again as he asks someone to reach for his bow.

Y/n turns to her husband and holds back a smile.

"Hey, I'll be fine out there by myself. If that's what you're worried about. We've been through so much, one round isn't going to hurt anyone."

•

•

•

Minutes, hours passed. And still no sign of S/n arriving at the community again.

Daryl knew where this place she was going to was, they found out together.

"Did you see if S/n arrived? She left a few hours ago and hasn't shown any signs of life until now" Daryl asks Carol, who was on patrol at that time.

"No. Since I've been here, no one has come or gone." Carol says. "Maybe Connie or Rosita could have seen her. Has it been long since she left?"

"About 4 hours. And the place she said is close, there's no reason for it taking so long" Daryl says a little harshly, but inside he was eating himself up with fear of losing his wife.

"Oh... Do you want me to go ask Connie if she saw S/n?"

"No, no. I'll go look for her." Daryl leaves.

from where he was and goes looking for a dog and equipment to leave the community.

Carol starts to worry too. Y/n had been with them since the quarry, the girl who had now become a woman was a great friend, partner and companion of Carol. If she had to say it, Carol would say that Y/n was her best friend.

Daryl walks to the armory to gear up, while Carol returns to her guard post.

The sun was almost setting, but the heat it gave off was almost hellish. Carol wiped the sweat from her forehead when she heard the other guards shout that someone was approaching.

"Open up!! Open up, it's Y/N!!" Carol screams.

When they opened the gates, Carol came across a woman covered in blood. Her hair was half out of her ponytail, her boots were untied, and there was blood all over her body.

"Y/n!!" Carol throws what she has in her hands and runs to the woman. "Oh my God..."

That blood wasn't zombie's, it was all hers.

There was a deep cut on the right side of the woman's stomach. A lot of blood was gushing out.

"Carol..." Y/n said softly, as her legs felt weak.

The blonde-haired woman holds S/n so she doesn't fall to the ground.

"Were you bitten? Y/N, were you bitten?" Carol asks in desperation.

Y/n tries to speak but she feels very weak due to the blood loss. She just shakes her head negatively.

Which made Carol's heart calm down a little.

"I...I..." Y/n tries to say something, but everything around her started to turn black and blurry. "Carol...my...I'm pregnant...five weeks" she says in a whisper before fainting in Carol's arms.

Carol is in ecstasy for a few seconds, until Daryl's voice snaps her out of her trance.

"S/NNN!!"

•

•

•

3 days later...

After Daryl got to where Y/n and Carol were, they quickly took her so Enid could evaluate her and give a diagnosis as quickly as possible.

At the moment, S/n was lying on a bed in the makeshift infirmary, which was now run by Enid.

Little by little, the Dixon Woman slowly opened her eyes, getting used to the sunlight after a few days of sleeping.

"Good morning, flower of the day" She hears Enid's voice beside her.

Y/n still tries to adjust her eyes to the brightness.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Daryl asked me to open the curtains all the way. He told me you love waking up to sunlight, I thought it would help." Enid says smiling, as she walks over to the window to close it.

Y/n smiles as she imagines Daryl saying that.

"Good morning," S/n says smiling, trying to sit up in bed. But she winces in pain. "Aw, aw..."

"Hey, hey. I'll help you," Enid says, approaching the woman to help her get ready on the bed. "I put some stitches in your belly. Can you tell me what happened? So I can put it in the medical record."

Y/n grimaces in pain, but nods.

"I was attacked by a horde of zombies. I had to jump over a wall to save myself, but there was some barbed wire. I kind of got tangled up..." She says with a half smile.

"Oh yeah, it kind of got tangled up" Enid smiles at Y/n, as she turns to get some more medicine for Y/n. "Well, let me give you a summary of what I did here for you in those days that you slept."

"How many days was I out?"

"Three days"

"Wow..."

"Yes... Well, after Carol and her husband brought you here, I stopped the wound, gave you some medicine to ease the pain, put in some stitches, and went to check on the baby. Carol said that you..."

"Oh shit..." S/n leans back and puts her hand on her head, tears starting to fall.

"Oh no, you didn't know? I'm sorry, I thought..."

"No, no...I knew...I know about the baby. It's been a while now." S/n looks at Enid with tears in her eyes.

"Congratulations" Enid says happily.

Y/n starts to cry softly, while looking at Enid.

"Oh no...I take back the congratulations?" Enid didn't know what to do.

"No, no," Y/n laughed through her tears. "I'm glad I did. But I haven't told Daryl yet... damn, Daryl... Does he know?"

"I told you...I didn't know you hadn't told him, if I had known I would have left it alone" Enid starts talking quickly.

"It's okay, Enid. It's okay..." Y/n agrees with a smile. "It's just that he and I have only talked about it two or three times. He must be in shock, that's all..."

"Look...if that was your concern. Whenever he comes, he asks about the baby first, how the vital signs are and everything" Enid says with love in her eyes.

Y/n chokes back a little more tears, just imagining her tough husband asking about her little baby. She smiles.

"Serious?"

"Yes. For those three days he slept next to you, and in the middle of the night when I came to give him his intravenous medication, I saw him looking at the ultrasound photo. Maybe he's not that shocked after all." She smiles at Y/n.

Y/n smiles too.

Seconds later, they heard the infirmary door open. It was the archer entering.

Seeing Y/n awake, a breath of relief was released from Daryl's lungs, and a few tears could be gathering in his eyes.

"He came back later, you must be doing some tests," he says awkwardly. Y/n holds back a smile.

"Oh, no, no. We were just shooting the breeze. I have to go out anyway," Enid says, looking between Daryl and Y/N. "I'll be back later to see you guys." Enid looks at Y/N, and she nods.

As they pass Daryl, Enid gives him a friendly smile and closes the infirmary door, so they have more privacy.

Daryl approaches Y/n, who begins to shed some silent tears.

"I thought I was going to lose you"

You

You

You...

For the first time, Y/n heard Daryl talk about his baby.

That was the end, Y/n started to shed tears from her eyes and sob. Covering her eyes with her hands, Daryl approaches her wife and wraps her in a hug. Shedding a few tears as well.

"It's okay...it's okay," Daryl says quietly.

"No. I'm sorry, Daryl...I'm sorry." Y/n's voice was muffled due to her crying and her hands on her face.

"Hey, hey. Why the apologies?" He stands up, holding his wife's hands affectionately, so she can look at him.

"The baby. I knew about the baby for about 3 weeks and I didn't tell you. I know we didn't talk about it much, and I was scared."

"Afraid of what, doll?" Daryl says worriedly.

"That's nonsense to say." Y/n shakes her head. "But I was afraid you wouldn't want him." She looks at Daryl. He can feel his heart break.

"Honey, I would never do that. We may have talked about it once or twice, but never. NEVER. I would let you or the baby go through terrible things. I want him, I really want that peanut" he says all cute at the end, which made Y/n smile at the part where he gave the baby a nickname already. "I may have some fears about being a father, but that's not why I'm going to reject him. I'll do my best, and I know you will too" he hugs Y/n again.

"You're making me cry again," she said smiling as she snuggled closer to her husband.

"Just promise me one thing. You'll never go out alone again."

Y/n nods.

"I don't want to lose you. Or the baby. Please."

"Okay," Y/n sniffs. "But look, I got supplies for the communities," she pulls out of the hug a little and smiles.

"Shut up, woman. You almost died," Daryl says with his somewhat harsh affection, making Y/n smile.

"Okay. I'll stop messing around with this." She says, getting ready in bed.

Silence reigns between the two, a comfortable silence between them. While Daryl held his wife's hand and caressed it.

"I have something to show you"

"But already? Our baby hasn't even been born and you're already like this?" S/n teases, smiling sideways.

Daryl just snorts and rolls his eyes.

"You are impossible"

"Yeah. I am." S/n says laughing, but stops when she feels a pain. "Don't make me laugh."

Daryl smiles and then reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper.

"Here, Enid gave this to me after she assessed the baby. I knew about him right then." Daryl hands over a picture of their ultrasound.

"Look there," S/n said, wiping away some tears of emotion. "Our baby."

"Peanut"

"Oh sure, peanut." She looks at the picture a little longer, before turning to her husband. "Sorry again for not telling you about the peanut sooner."

"It's okay now. We'll be okay, the three of us."

"I heard I'm going to be an aunt?" Carol walks into the infirmary, making Y/n and Daryl smile.

"Yes!!" Y/n says excitedly.

Author: I love reading Daryl a father of babies🤯😫

[xoxo-sarah]

If the Roles Were Reversed

My Wife part 2

Part 1

↝a/n: I have been given so much love for the first part and I can't express how grateful I am for it. It fills me with so much joy when people express how much they like my work. I have been asked to make a part two and who am I to say no?

↝pairing: season 1!Daryl Dixon x wife!reader

↝warning: season 1 episodes 3 & 4, angst, death, arguing, gore, zombies, typical twd stuff, not proofread, Ed

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

↝⎙ 1.25.25

Daryl Dixon masterlist

“You can't go, Daryl. Listen to me-” You threw your hands around, watching Daryl pace in front of you. The peaceful expression he once had, when he had reunited with you, was wiped clean off of his face.

He was told the news about Merle and instantly became furious. No matter how much you tried to calm him, it was no use.

His brother was out there. Daryl argued that Merle would be out there looking for him if the roles were reversed.

“Listen, there are too many.” You stepped closer, trying to make him understand, “After the racket everyone made trying to leave, I bet there’s even more now.”

“They left my brother on a roof.” You could tell he was trying his hardest not to yell at you. He was never one to take his anger out on the one person he loves more than anything in the world. He was always gentle with you, just like you deserved.

Sighing, you didn’t know how to counter that. As much as everyone who was waiting on the other side of the R.V wanted you to talk some sense into your husband, Daryl had a point. After all, he had gone out to find you, even against Merle telling him not to.

If it had been Daryl who they had left behind, you would’ve already been in the city, searching. Even if you had to go by yourself, it wouldn’t matter.

None of that changed the fact that it’s dangerous. You couldn’t let him go.

You just got him back.

“He was out of control, you know how he can get. I don’t think they had a choice.” You whispered, trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

Daryl’s nostrils flared, as he tried to calm himself. He didn’t want to lash out on you, he never did. But he was about to break. “Merle is a prick, but he’s my brother.”

With that, Daryl walked around the R.V, shoulder checking Shane, who looked disappointed that you hadn’t helped de-escalate the situation. Daryl was stubborn, there wasn’t much you could do.

Carol quickly went back to what she was doing, not wanting to seem like she was being nosey. Which didn’t do much considering everyone in the camp was waiting. After the brawl that had happened when Daryl was told about Merle, everyone was interested in how this whole situation would turn out. Everyone else tried hiding their obvious interest as Daryl came into view. You walked behind him, head hung low, defeated and slightly scared.

Daryl walked toward the box truck, ready to leave.

Rick walked over to you, “So?”

“You shook your head, “He’s not gonna change his mind. I tried.”

He nodded in understanding. Lori looked on at the interaction. She had been the one to offer Rick showing Daryl the way to Merle. She was adamant on it, but at the same time mad at him for leaving. It was almost like she was testing him, seeing if he would actually leave his family to be the heroic cop from before. She wanted him to choose her and Carl over ‘the right thing to do’.

Rick cleared his throat, “It’ll be alright,” he nodded fiddling with the gun holster before turning back around.

Glenn backed the box truck closer, Daryl impatiently standing in the back. You walked toward him when the vehicle stopped. He squinted down at you against the beating sun, watching as you climbed into the truck.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Going with you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Four’s enough.”

You didn’t care if Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were also going. You had stayed in the city for a while, you knew your way around. Plus, you would be going for a different reason than the rest. They were going for Merle, you were going for Daryl.

“Stay here.” His voice was softer now. Truthfully, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were safer at the camp, with people you had grown comfortable with in such a short amount of time. “They’ll need somebody who knows how to hunt for somethin’ to eat. Fish is gonna get old fast.” You cracked a smile at his slight humor at the situation. Still, you didn’t want him to leave.

Daryl stepped closer, bringing you into his arms, his head resting on yours. The stench of sweat, dirt, and god knows what else didn’t bother either of you. He didn’t care that you didn’t smell like the sweet shampoo he loved, and you didn’t care that he didn’t smell like the body wash that you had bought him the last time you had gone to the store, or the cologne you loved.

“Keep an eye on everybody,” He kissed your forehead, mumbling against the skin, as he stayed close. “Don’t let anyone mess with ya.”

“When do I ever?” A smile threatened to make an appearance. But it wasn’t the time. He was worried about his brother.

Rick walked by, casting a glance back at the two of you, nodding. Inhaling deeply, you moved away from Daryl, jumping down from the truck. He sent you one more look before pulling the roll-up doors down. You stood there, listening to the box truck’s engine start. You continued to stand there even after the truck faded into the distance.

-

Dale watched as you fiddled with the rag he had given you to wipe the sweat off your brow. You kept fidgeting; ever since Daryl left.

He was quick to offer you to help him keep watch, but you were elsewhere ever since you climbed onto the roof of the R.V. You were trying, Dale could tell. But he saw the gears turning in your head, greased with the terrible thought of what could happen to your husband. The thought of Daryl always overpowered any other thought.

His greyed eyebrows raised as you shot up from your seat.

“Think i’m gonna go help with the laundry. To keep myself busy.” Dale didn’t say anything, only moving out of your way so you could climb down.

Making your way to the quarry, you focused on the voices in the distance and the sharp rocks under your feet. You walked past Ed, who sat comfortably in the back of the car, smoking while keeping an eye on Carol. He glanced up, taking a drag of his cigarette. Ignoring him, you carefully navigate your way down the rocks toward where Carol, Jacqui, Andrea, and Amy sat.

“Can somebody explain to me how the women wound up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?” Jacqui grumbled, watching Shane and Carl fail at catching frogs, their laughter echoing.

“The world ended. Didn’t you get the memo?” Amy wrung the water out of a shirt, flicking hair out of her face. Carol glanced back, looking at Ed. She saw you walking toward them. Sending you a small smile. “It’s just the way it is.” Her eyes fell back to her husband.

“Care for some help?” You squinted at the group through the sun beating down into your eyes. Jacqui motioned to a turned over bucket, “Please.” Giving a tightlipped smile, you sat down ,grabbing a scrub brush and a piece of clothing.

The way the women conversated put you at ease. It was familiar. People at the office that you worked at, were exactly like them.

“I do miss my Maytag.” Carol said, scrubbing clothes against the old washboard.

“I miss my Benz, my Sat Nav.” Andrea added.

“I miss my coffeemaker with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey.” Jacqui smiled.

Amy pouted, “My computer…and texting.”

“I miss my t.v. And wine. Especially after a long day.” You groaned, remembering the days after work; where you would come home, take your shoes off and get wine and a movie ready. Daryl would come home a little later and join you.

Your reminiscing was cut short by Andrea, “I miss my vibrator.”

Stopping your scrubbing, you looked up at her, a surprised chuckle leaving your lips.

“Ohhhhh.” “Oh my God!”

Carol glanced back at Ed, “Me too.”

You laughed harder, along with the others.

“What’s so funny?”

Just like that, the atmosphere was ruined. Ed walked down, instantly taking the joy out of the air.

“Just swapping war stories, Ed,” Andrea looked back at him, before looking over at Carol. “Yeah.”

Ed walked closer. From your spot beside Carol, you could feel Ed looming behind. Carol instinctively folded in on herself, head sinking into her shoulders.

“Problem, Ed?” Andrea glared at him.

“None that concerns you,” He took another puff of his cigarette, “and you ought to focus on your work. This ain’t no comedy club.”

Andrea huffed, plopping the brush in the tin bucket.

“Just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.” You looked at him, face blank. He stared down at you. You waited for him to say something else. Surprisingly he only blew the smoke out, throwing the butt away. He stepped back, lighting another. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the laundry. Andrea stood, walking toward him.

“Ed, tell you what, you don’t like how your laundry is done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here,” She threw the soaking wet piece of clothing in her hands at him.

He threw it back. Andrea gasped. “Ain't my job, missy.”

Amy stood, wanting to de-escalate the situation. She touched Andrea’s arm, “Andrea, don’t.”

“What is your job, Ed? Sitting on your ass, smoking cigarettes?”

You glanced at Carol, who sat quietly, still working.

“Well, it sure as hell ain’t listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch. Tell you what,” He motioned for Carol, who was out of her seat in a second. You grabbed her arm before she could fully stand up. You could see the fear and timidness in her eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He continued to beckon her.

You stood, keeping a soft but comforting grip on her arm.

“I don’t think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed.” Andrea continued.

Carol glanced up from the ground for a split second, meeting your eyes. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble. She would be dragged back to camp by Ed if that meant nothing else would happen. She knew Ed, what he was capable of.

“And I say that’s none of your business.” Ed beckoned for Carol again. “Come on, now. You heard me.”

Carol moved away from your grip. Andrea turned to her, “Carol,”

“Andrea, please. It doesn’t matter.”

Ed glared at the interaction, “Hey, don’t think I won't knock you on your ass, just ‘cause you some college-educated cooze, alright?”

Andrea scoffed at the audacity of the male in front of her. You stepped forward, grabbing Carol by the shoulder. You weren’t about to let her go with him when he was clearly becoming hostile.

“Now you come on now or you gonna regret it later.”

You softly said her name, ignoring her husband’s glare, and stepped closer to her in a protective manner.

“So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed?” Jacqui piped up for the first time since Ed walked over. “Yeah, we’ve seen them.”

Ed chuckled, “Stay out of this,” his harsh gaze pierced through his wife. “Now come on! You know what, this is none of y’all’s business. You don’t want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done talkin’. Come on!”

You cringed at his words, moving in front of Carol as he walked closer. He ignored you, reaching around to grab at her arm with a harsh grip. The embarrassment was clear on her face. He pulled, knocking your balance slightly off as he yanked Carol from behind you. Her shoulder crashed into yours, feet moving in a jumble over your own.

“No. No, Carol. You don’t have-”

Carol muttered something under her breath, ignoring Andrea.

Ed swung around, spitting in Carol’s face. “You don’t tell me what! I tell you what!” His grip tightened, jagged nails biting into the soft skin of her upper arm. She whimpered quietly at the force. He raised his hand, striking her against the face. Gasping, you caught her as she fell back, grabbing her reddening cheek.

Everyone clamoured; Andrea hitting and pushing him away, you cursing him as Carol started crying. She fell further into you, as you held her protectively, hauling her away from him.

Ed was pulled back and thrown to the ground, before being dragged by the back of his shirt. Shane threw him further into to the ground, before throwing a punch, and another straight after.

“No!” Carol cried, trying to get away. Shane kept throwing punches, more skin breaking every time his fist hit Ed’s face. Carol covered her mouth, body swaying.

“Shane, stop!” “Enough! Enough!” “Just stop!”

Shane stopped, pointing a finger in Ed’s swollen and bloodied face. “You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me?” He grabbed Ed’s face, squishing it in the process. “Do you hear me?!”

Ed slurred, “Yes.”

Shane let go, pointing again. “I’ll beat you to death, Ed.” With one final punch, he stood, kicking the man on the ground and walking away.

“God!” Carol cried, using strength you had never seen from her before, to break from you, running over to her husband.

-

The tension in the camp was suffocating after that. There was a tiny victory after Andrea and Amy went fishing and brought back dinner, but it was short lived. Jim had been found digging graves, which disturbed a lot of you.

Night fell and everyone began eating the fish-fry.

You smiled at Sophia as she passed the pan of fish. She was well-mannered; all thanks to Carol. She was a shy girl, but became a seemingly different kid when she was around other kids. She found friends in a world that would probably take them away before you could blink. She, along with the other kids, didn’t understand what was out there, all of the bad. They held an innocence that would be demolished in front of your eyes.

“I gotta ask you, man. It’s been driving me crazy.” One of the men that you met in the city, Morales, spoke up, directing it at Dale.

“What?”

“That watch,” he pointed at the watch on Dale’s wrist.

Dale smiled, “What’s wrong with my watch?”

Morales continued, “I see you everyday, the same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass.”

“I’ve wondered this myself.” Jacqui smiled.

Dale threw his hands up playfully, “I’m missing the point.”

You looked between him and his watch, the fire casting a warm gleam over it, brightening the brown leather.

“Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. At least hit a speed bump for a good long while.” Jacqui shrugged her shoulders.

“But there’s you, everyday, winding that stupid watch.” Morales raised his eyebrows at the old man.

“Time- it’s important to keep track, isn’t it? The days, at least. Don’t you think, Andrea? Back me up here.”

They shared a knowing look, their faces glowing in the fire from where you sat. She sent him a seemingly warning glare, but his smile didn’t falter.

“I like- I like what, um, a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said “I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father’s before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, not that you may forget it for a moment now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.””

Huh,” Morales nodded at the answer, not really expecting it.

Everyone sat in silence around the fire, before Amy broke it, “You are so weird.”

Laughter echoed as you took a swig of beer. It wasn’t wine, but it wasn’t pure water so it would do.

“It’s not me. It’s Faulkner, William Faulkner.”

Amy rolled her eyes at Dale.

The older man chuckled, “Maybe my bad paraphrasing.”

Amy stood, walking away from the fire. Andrea stopped her, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pee.” The younger sister raised her brows, “Jeez, you try to be discreet around here.” She quickly walked off, toward the R.V.

Dale turned to you, “What about you? You fiddle with that on your wrist.” You looked down at the bulky thing around your wrist. “Was my dog’s collar.” Dale’s smile turned sad. While rushing out of your house, you had grabbed the collar from the leash you would walk her around the block with. Her name was embroidered; a gift from Daryl when he first surprised you with a puppy.

You tightened it into a bracelet, holding her memory close. Truthfully, you had forgotten about it being on your wrist. You didn’t notice how much you fidgeted with it. Dale did, when you were on watch with him.

You didn’t think about the dog for long.

The R.V door opened, and Amy stepped out. “We’re out of toilet paper?” She yelled. Before she could get an answer, a hand grabbed her forearm from behind the other side of the door. She stood in shock as a walker moved closer to her. She screamed, feeling the walker bite down.

Your head instantly snapped up, eyes growing wide at the sight. More walkers came from each direction, limping forward. Everyone screamed, jumping up. Parents grabbed their kids, others grabbed weapons. Gunshots echoed, making your ears ring. You were quick to instinctively reach for your gun. Unfortunately, that gun was still in Glenn’s bag with no bullets.

A hand on your shoulder had you swiveling around, pushing the walker that simply snarled at you. Pushing with all your strength, you didn’t wait for it to hit the ground before you were running.

Another walker stumbled toward you from behind, dirty nails digging into your skin. This walker was closer, a stench wafting into your nose before you could push it away. You tried, but from the angle in which the walker had grabbed you, you could only push its head away, fingers avoiding its snipping teeth.

You screamed, still hearing Shane unload his gun in the distance.

Andrea wailed, watching another walker bite a gash out of Amy’s shoulder, right where her neck meets it.

The grip tightened on you, making you hiss. Their nails were long and had the bite to prove it. One final hit had the walker staggering back, grip falling off. You turned, running toward the R.V, where Shane, Lori, Carol, Morales, and their families were. More gunfire rang out.

Making it to the vehicle, you turned back, seeing Daryl and the others coming out of the woods. He was the first out, head snapping in ebery direction. The other were soon to follow.

Daryl spotted you. He looked around, making sure no more walkers were around, before running toward you. Your bodies collided, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

He pulled back, “You hurt?”

“No, i don’t think- I don’t know.”

You were in shock, your jumbled words and wide eyes proving it. You couldn’t think. You rubbed where you were scratched.

In your time since the world ended, you had hidden in the top floor of a building. If you were ever met with danger, you always had a gun or knife handy.

Tonight, you were completely unprepared.

In the dark, you couldn't tell if the skin of your arm was broken. Clinging back to Daryl, you turned your head to where Andrea laid beside Amy. Blood pooled around them. Amy’s body went limp, sending Andrea to sobs. Closing your eyes tightly, you turned back to Daryl, pushing your face into his neck. He held you close, hiding the shake in his hands.

He had heard your scream.

That’s what had him running through the woods with only you in mind, leaving the other behind.

•2021-2025 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

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

Tags from the last chapter who wanted part 2: @notmirnda @vomiting-blood @i93jjk @multifandomfan @gaudesstuff @cymbalta-slut

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst

Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.

A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!🩵) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for 🩵

*gif is not mine

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw. 

You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout. 

And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled. 

“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”

You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”

Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”

Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you? 

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression. 

“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught. 

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous. 

“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling. 

“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend. 

And you just kept telling yourself that. 

Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later. 

You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long. 

Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood. 

You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week? 

You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely. 

You should have turned away but you didn’t. 

And then you wished you had. 

Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them. 

You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name. 

You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you. 

And he didn’t tell you a lot. 

You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was. 

But you weren’t happy. 

It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her. 

She didn’t deserve his smile. 

She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel. 

That had been you. Always you. 

The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help. 

The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach. 

You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly. 

And somehow, that’s what made the tears come. 

There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice. 

When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder. 

“It’s Y/N, right?” 

Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”

“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight. 

“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder. 

“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Yeah, you know—a couple.”

Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her. 

“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons. 

“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside. 

“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.

“I’m going with you today.”

His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”

“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.

“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”

Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”

“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.” 

“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.

“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.

“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch. 

Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”

“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”

“Daryl.”

“No, Y/N.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp. 

“Y’don’t mean that.” 

You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did. 

“Y/N—”

“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop. 

When the door closed, the floodgates opened. 

Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home. 

Did he have that with her now? 

“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.

“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t. 

“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.

The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?” 

“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“I—”

The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further. 

Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted. 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information. 

“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.” 

You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him. 

And it was such a lie. 

“Y/N, wait!”

You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again. 

When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”

“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”

You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!

“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing. 

“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”

When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you. 

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.

God, you were an asshole.

To her. 

To Daryl. 

Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary. 

“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”

The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this. 

Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive. 

His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale. 

“Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background. 

Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”

“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”

“How?” You sniffled. 

“Window was in my way.”

You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own. 

“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”

You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted. 

“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself. 

“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.

“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”

Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.

“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you. 

When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”

“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”

“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.

“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.” 

“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.

And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.