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xoxocarlgrimesxoxo · 3 years ago

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Soft Spot

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: blood, injury, swearing ❧ Word Count: 4.5k

❧ Requested by @deathishereditary (this request—I swear you have the best ideas dude)

❧ Summary: Daryl finds his lady love injured in the woods after being separated, and everyone is surprised to find not only that Daryl has a girlfriend, but that he's very, very soft for her.

❧ A/N: Take a drink every time I come up with another pet name for Daryl/Reader. God, I love soft, protective Daryl. He's like a chocolate truffle—hard shell on the outside, soft, creamy filling on the inside (but all sweet!). We love our little chocolate truffle... Also, this fucking gif. Look at how cute he is. Look at him. He's so fucking cute. The face scrunch... I can't. I'm launching myself into outer space because of how cute this man is. Bye.

He emerged from the woods, your unconscious body draped limply over his shoulder as his feet hurried to get you to safety.

At this point, you were glad to be unconscious, lest you have to endure the pain of the bear trap’s spikes that had been embedded in your flesh.

Upon impact, you had screamed, falling to your feet above the metal contraption that had sunk its teeth into your leg. An onslaught of violent, agonized tears intermingled with your terrified screams. It was the worst pain you’d ever felt in your life, which was saying something, since even the tiniest scratch was enough to bring you to tears.

This pain, though, was near catastrophic, almost sending you into an unconscious state to escape the agony of the sharp prongs carving jagged holes into your flesh.

Despite the urge to faint, it wasn’t the pain that knocked you out, it was the figure you saw running towards you, the man dropping his crossbow to the ground with a thud and nearly flinging himself beside you to free you from those jaws clamped around your leg.

“Dar-Daryl?” you sobbed, grasping onto his shirt collar and bringing him closer, trying to see if it was really him, your Daryl. Your man. “Daryl…”

You’d passed out before you could utter another word, but you weren’t sure if it was from the pain or the shock of seeing him.

It’d been a week now since you had last seen him, when the safe zone in Atlanta was overrun and the last thing you remembered was his voice desperately calling your name amongst the crowd of panicked people that separated you until you couldn’t hear him anymore.

At least you knew he was with Merle, but for your part, you were terrified of being alone without him. He was the only person you trusted since the virus broke out, and the only person you needed. No one else could keep you safe like he could.

So you tried to find him, stumbling out into the woods on your own and somehow escaping unscathed from the grasp of the undead. You’d gone on autopilot after that, a terrified, defenseless creature just trying to survive.

Daryl had always compared you to a rabbit, even going so far to affectionately nickname you “bunny” for how easily scared you were. It was an apt comparison, as rabbits are known to have fatal heart attacks just at the first sign of threat. They’re a vulnerable species in the wild, always the prey of some predator higher up on the food chain, and you were no different. He knew that better than anyone, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let anyone touch you. Not in the slightest.

“Outta my way,” he huffed, brushing past several members of his group he didn’t care to identify as his tunnel vision focused on the old Winnebago in the center of camp.

“Dixon!” bellowed Shane, trying to match the serious man’s pace as he bee-lined to the trailer. “What the hell is goin’ on here? Who is this?”

Merle did Daryl’s talking for him, as usual. Despite his attempts to get his younger brother to forget about you, claiming you’d surely been trampled by the crowd or eaten alive by walkers, he couldn’t keep him from going out there everyday to find you.

“That goddamn woman,” he scoffed. “Thought we lost the stupid little bitch.”

“Shut the hell up!” barked Daryl, suddenly being bombarded with questions from the others as they surrounded him and the bleeding girl strewn over his broad shoulders. “She’s hurt!”

Merle scoffed again, hardly impressed by how you somehow managed to have a death grip on his heart even when you were unconscious. Two years of watching you “soften” his brother, turning him to jelly and making him beholden to your every beck and call, had turned Merle bitter towards you and your relationship.

“Who is that?” asked Shane, watching Daryl hurriedly march up the steps to the Winnebago with Merle looking on, shaking his head in dismay.

“His bitch,” he replied before spitting a glob of spit onto the dirt below, as if in disgust at the very idea of your existence.

Andrea seemed confused at the notion. “What?” she asked. Indeed, no one in the camp had any idea that Daryl was capable of affection, let alone love, since he’d never really shown it to anyone there in the week or so he’d been there, not even to his own brother, really.

“His woman,” Merle clarified. “Girl’s got his brain and his dick in the palm of ‘er hand. Swear to God, never seen a man more whipped than that… Pussy will do that to ya.”

In the trailer, the questions didn’t cease as Dale and Glenn attempted to help Daryl unfurl you onto the bed, much to Daryl’s frustration.

“I got it!” he said, pushing Glenn away as he touched your leg. “Don’t touch ‘er!” He moved frantically once he’d gotten you on the bed, rummaging through the cabinets in an attempt to find first aid for your wound. “Where the hell’s your first aid kit, old man?!”

Dale looked wide-eyed at the prickly redneck, who’d only ever had wise-ass words to say to him and the other inhabitants of the camp, if he said any words at all.

“In the cabinet above the sink,” he said, exchanging dumbfounded looks with Glenn across the way. “You know, Jacqui knows stitches, I bet she can—”

“No one’s touchin’ her but me!” he bellowed, pointing towards himself as he glowered between the two men. “She’s my woman, my damn responsibility. No one touches her right now but me, you understand?”

Dale held his hands up in defense. “Just trying to help.”

Just then, Jacqui and Carol peered in through the door, worried as they gazed in the direction of the strange woman, sprawled out on the bed and bleeding into a towel wrapped around her leg.

“Is she all right?” Carol asked. “Was she bit?”

Daryl scoffed as he hurriedly made his way over to you with the first aid kit and a handful of wet clothes to clean your wound. “She’s gonna be just fine,” he said rather aggressively despite the sentiment of his caring words. “Just got bit by a bear trap.”

He gently dabbed the wound with the wash cloth, wiping away the blood as it left diluted traces of crimson across your skin. He could see the wound better now, determining it wasn’t so bad. Of course, it must’ve hurt like hell, but he also knew just how sensitive you were, how little pain you could handle, and how your screams had alarmed him more than your actual wound. Still, you were here, breathing gently but steadily before him, tears staining your reddened cheeks as you lay there unconscious.

“Who is she?” asked Glenn, seemingly mystified by how devout the surly man was to you. Surely, you couldn’t have been a complete stranger, but it still seemed impossible for Daryl Dixon to care about anyone the way he obviously did as he cleaned your wound with the utmost tenderness. He’d referred to her as “my woman,” but it still seemed so improbable that such a sweet, frightened looking woman had love in her heart for such a standoffish, stoic man.

He didn’t answer for a while, only focusing on your leg between glances at your face, just to make sure you were really there.

“‘Er name’s (Y/N),” he said quietly before turning to glower at the younger man. “You done askin’ me questions or what?”

Glenn swallowed hard and shrugged, still quite intimidated by Daryl despite his apparent affection for you, the unconscious woman who’d quickly become the talk of the camp.

Dale rested a hand on Glenn’s shoulder, guiding him back towards the door. “We’ll leave you alone,” he said. “Come on, son. Let’s check the radio again.”

Glenn shook his head in disbelief, while Dale shut the trailer door behind him with a deep breath before joining the others, who’d gathered around outside to discuss the strange event of your sudden appearance, and the stranger reaction from the surly archer.

“You’re not gonna get that boy to do a damn thing now that she’s here,” said Merle to Shane. “(Y/N)’s top priority now. Hell, she was already top priority. You think Daryl went into them woods just to bring back squirrels for you sorry sons of bitches? Nah, he went lookin’ for rabbits.” He gestured loosely towards the trailer. “That bitch has got to go, if you ask me.”

“Whoa, whoa,” said Dale. “What the hell are you talking about? We can’t just send an injured woman back out there, let alone Daryl’s, uh… girlfriend.”

Andrea huffed, still in shock. “Wow,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what, blondie?” asked Merle in slight offense. “Can’t believe the Dixon’s got game? I’ll tell you what, it ain’t the fact he’s layin’ pipe, it’s just that he’s whipped. Kid’s got a dick but he ain’t got no damn balls.” He groped his crotch for emphasis. “Believe me, if my kid brother had a piece of tail like (Y/N) and left it at that, I wouldn’t have a problem. Nah, it’s ‘cause that pussy don’t let up, got this effect on him. Trust me, he’ll be in that trailer through nightfall till she wakes up ‘er pretty little head and starts cooin’ at him like he was a baby. Damn girl puts stars in his eyes.”

Jacqui scoffed, shaking her head at Merle’s disgusting words. “You’re a pig,” she said.

Oh, how many times Merle had been called that. You’d thought it many times yourself, but you were too shy to say anything to his face, instead relaying to Daryl in private how uncomfortable he made you, in the most polite way possible, of course.

“I’m just sayin’,” Merle replied. “Daryl’s better off without her, y’all are better off without her.”

“Now, look,” sighed Shane. “We ain’t kickin’ anyone out. Besides, you think Daryl would let us send her back out there anyway?”

“He won’t even let anyone touch her,” answered Glenn. “All but kicked us out of the trailer.”

Merle let out a scoff somewhere between indignation and amusement. “See? Already workin’ her magic, an’ she ain’t even conscious yet.”

Yet was the operative word.

Indeed, you did awake several hours later, when the sun was just going down and outside the others prepared the nightly campfire, over which whatever squirrel Daryl had haphazardly dropped on the ground as he carried you out of the woods was being cooked in a somewhat passable stew.

Your eyes fluttered hazily, and immediately the pain from your injury shot up through your leg, distracting you from any confusion you might’ve had, having somehow ended up inside an old trailer.

You hissed in pain, sitting up ever so slightly to assess the wound, but Daryl was quick to grasp your shoulders, sitting himself down beside you and softly guiding you back down to your pillow.

“Daryl,” you sighed, wide-eyed and face contorted in an amalgam of confusion, pain, and utter overjoyment as you met his soft, sweet blue eyes. Oh, those eyes… Not long before you stumbled into that bear trap, you were thinking about how in all likelihood, you’d never see those beautiful eyes again. “What’s… What’s happening?” You felt his hand caress your cheek as you looked around, frantically trying to figure out where you were, as if there was any way you could recognize a place you’d never seen before in your life. “Am I dead?”

He furrowed his brow, studying your face for a few silent moments before breaking out into perhaps the biggest smile you’d ever seen on his face. He simply couldn’t help it—you had that effect on him. Even Daryl would admit Merle wasn’t entirely wrong. You did put stars in his eyes. That wasn’t up for debate.

“No, you ain’t dead,” he answered. His thumb tenderly petted the apple of your cheek while his eyes seemed to go a little hazy as he stared at you. With the sound of his voice confirming your waking state, you let yourself relax into his touch, always so soothing to you and your rather high-strung, fearful nature. “I found you.”

His other hand pinned your hair behind your ear just before you threw your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and rocking back and forth as you let out a muffled laugh, intermingled with sobs from your crying. It was mostly a happy cry, though you were also in the midst of a deep, searing pain. Still, you had your Daryl, and that was a more potent feeling than whatever contraption had plunged its spiky prongs into your flesh.

“Oh, Daryl,” you laughed (and cried), clutching to the back of his sleeveless flannel shirt you’d last seen him in. It was almost like you’d never been apart. “It’s you… It’s really you.”

To be held by you was an addiction of his, a vice that was strong enough to turn his insides to mush. Well, if that was his greatest vice, then he supposed he wasn’t too fucked up.

He shushed you, trying to calm your crying. You always were a crybaby. “Shhh, shhh… It’s me,” he said. “I’m right here, bunny. I got ya. You’re safe now.”

Unable to withstand another moment without the feeling of your lips on his, he turned his head to kiss you, his lips catching your tears as they fell down your cheek. It was a soft kiss, gentle and warm like always. You could never recall a time Daryl had kissed you with anything but the utmost sweetness in his heart. His softness for you was in everything he did, every movement he made around you, every touch he gave you, everything.

You found yourself happily moaning into his kiss, smiling against his lips as his tongue hungrily massaged yours, still with as much tenderness as he could muster with how much he’d missed you. And, oh, how he missed you.

When his kiss finally relented, you peered over his shoulder to try to get a look at your leg again, but he grabbed your cheek, turning your gaze towards him. “Don’ look,” he drawled. “Jus’ look at me.”

He knew how much you hated the idea of being hurt, how even the smallest drop of blood could send you into a daze. Of course, you weren’t proud of that fact, and all throughout your life you’d tried to hide how sensitive you were, lest everyone ridicule you or accuse you of feigning your sensitivity for attention. Daryl, however, could never see you in such a way. He only saw a sweet, kind, beautiful woman who needed to be cared for more than other people, and he was ready to do that job. And boy, did he do his job well.

“It… It hurts, Daryl,” you said shakily.

He frowned, nodding his head in understanding. “I’ll get ya a painkiller,” he said. “Just gotta get to my tent real quick. I’ll be right—”

“No,” you said urgently, tugging him back towards you. “Please stay… I’ll be fine.” That was a lie, and he knew it, too. He could tell by the tears and the sniffles that you were in immense pain, but your need to have him beside you as much as possible at that moment was greater. “Just stay with me for now, please.”

He chewed his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. He wouldn’t leave, not a chance. You were clearly scared, and all you wanted was his presence. Surely, you’d want him to hold you like he always did, keep you safe in his arms as your body worked through the pain.

He’d done it before, namely during your periods. Your cramps were always the most intense pain you’d ever experienced before this, often forcing you to stay home from work until they subsided. He’d drop everything to stay home with you, going to the store for emergency tampons, making you dinner as you were in too much pain to even get out of bed, rubbing your abdomen to soothe your cramps as best he could while he held you tight… Yeah, he knew how to take care of you better than anyone else.

“I won’t leave ya,” he said, then turned his head towards the window of the trailer to yell out his brother’s name. “Merle!” he bellowed. “Get me the aspirin, will ya?!”

A few beats of silence passed before Merle responded from somewhere outside the trailer: “Fuck you!”

“Get me the aspirin, dickhead!”

You were still entranced by Daryl when the pill bottle landed with a rattle beside your leg, causing you to look up at Merle, the bane of your existence. Despite your distaste for Daryl’s brother, you always put on a polite face, attempting to be cordial.

“Merle,” you breathed with a smile. “Thank God you’re all right, too.”

He scoffed, knowing you really hated him about as much as he was annoyed by you and your hold of his brother. “Thank God,” he repeated sarcastically. “See you already got your nurse workin’ ‘round the clock, hm? Tell ya the truth, we were just ‘bout ready to give up on you, sweetheart. Ain’t that right, little brother?”

“You bes’ shut the hell up,” replied Daryl, unscrewing the bottle of aspirin. “And you know that ain’t true, asshole.”

He turned towards you, holding out two pink pills and a glass of water. “Come on, sit up,” he instructed, then quietly spoke under his breath: “Gonna get you feelin’ better, sunshine.”

You did as he said and took the glass and the pills from his hands, but not without noticing Merle’s obnoxious smirk. “Mhm, that’s right,” he drawled, licking his lips lasciviously. “Gotta get you all better so’s he can fuck you sideways again—”

“Goddamnit, Merle!” he yelled, tossing the pill bottle at his face. “Get the hell outta here ‘fore I beat your sorry ass!”

“Oh, yeah?” he laughed. “You and little miss Muffet? That’ll be the damn day. That bitch has got your balls locked up in a jewelry box, huh, baby brother? Thing is, I think you like it.”

“Get out!” he repeated, and with a few more choice words, which you didn’t care at this point to pay attention to, he retreated to his tent for the night, terribly annoyed by your presence, like you were some benign tumor on his brother’s heart.

“Don’t listen to a word that comes out of that son of a bitch’s mouth,” Daryl said to you, lifting the bandage to inspect your wound (careful not to show it to you, of course). “I was lookin’ for you the moment I lost you up until the second I found you… Just wish this bear trap didn’t get ya ‘fore I did.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you thought about Merle’s words. “How does such a sweet, smart, selfless man have such a… pig for a brother?”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your usage of the word “pig.” You were usually much more vague about your criticisms of Merle.

“You’re out there without me coddling ya for one week and you come back to me all feisty, huh, bunny?”

“I don’t have a feisty bone in my body,” you laughed. “I don’t even know how I made it out there without you.”

Indeed, he was wondering that, too. Of course, he knew you had a will to survive, that you weren’t entirely hopeless on your own, but in this world, people like you were easy prey, just like rabbits, and Daryl was more like a wolf. Well, a wolf who had developed a particularly soft spot for a rabbit, that is.

He scooted closer to you, raising his hand to your cheek once again, trailing the back of it slowly up and down your soft cheek. He just could never get enough of those adorable cheeks, especially when you smiled like you were now.

“I just love ya so much,” he drawled, breaking into his own crooked smile at the end of his sentence. “I was never gonna stop lookin’ for ya, hope you know that.”

You nodded, holding his hand as he held your cheek. “I know, pumpkin,” you cooed, and he couldn’t even pretend to hate that little pet name you’d christened him with when you first started dating. “I was looking for you, too. I mean, I had no idea where to look, and I was just… running around, eating berries and mushrooms…”

“The ones I told you, right?” he asked seriously.

You rolled your eyes, amused by his need to know you learned something from his “survival lessons.”

“Yes, Daryl,” you said. “Only the ones that aren’t poisonous. I’m just so glad you found me.”

He smiled before leaning forward to kiss you again, once on the lips, and several times on each cheek before you broke out into a giggle, tickled from the whiskers of his stubble. “Oh, hey, that tickles.”

“Mm,” he hummed against your cheek. “You like it, bunny… Hey, you must be hungry, huh? Let’s get some food in you.”

He didn’t leave room for argument as he carefully lifted you up by your arms, mindful of your injury. He shouldered your arm and helped you down the steps of the trailer, and immediately you felt more pairs of eyes on you than you had in what seemed like ages.

Daryl’s group was huddled around the fire, their voices dying down as they focused on you. They seemed dumbfounded, chewing on their squirrel while their eyes watched Daryl carefully lead you to the fire. In all honesty, he would’ve preferred to carry you, but he was already sure the group was questioning his “toughness.”

He sat you down on a folding chair, and moved frantically to find you a blanket, turning himself around and looking in every direction. “Anyone got a blanket?” he asked.

“I-it’s fine, Daryl,” you laughed nervously. “I’m fine… Sit down.”

He huffed and sat himself down, leaning forward to serve you a bowl of soup. “Thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the stares you were still getting.

“How are you?” Glenn asked, breaking the awkward silence meandering around the campfire.

He was a stranger to you, as they all were except Daryl, but you answered nonetheless. “I’m okay,” you said. “I don’t think I’m gonna lose my foot, so that’s good.”

You laughed nervously, though the others still seemed utterly flabbergasted by your very existence.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

Everyone introduced themselves eventually, after the initial shock of your waking state seemed to subside ever so slightly. Still, even after dinner, and when it was only you and Daryl left at that bonfire, you could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the others from afar, watching the two of you.

Daryl didn’t seem to care, or notice, as he found himself tending to your dressing, cleaning your wound once again before holding you tight, brushing through your hair with his gentle fingers.

The only side of Daryl that you knew was his soft side, his tenderness he displayed towards you. You knew he had a temper, that he could be volatile and emotional, but in a way, he was just as sensitive as you were, he just showed it differently. In fact, he tried not to show it at all most of the time, for fear of making himself vulnerable. It was only around you he could be fully himself, and that was brought out in how he cared for you, doted on you.

Whatever side he’d displayed to these people in the last week must’ve been starkly different, and indeed it was.

“This is fascinating,” said Dale to Glenn, sitting atop the trailer and sneaking glances at the couple’s embrace beside the fire.

“It’s super weird,” agreed Glenn. “Wish I had a girlfriend.”

Shane and T-Dog made their rounds, stopping in brief disbelief at the display before them. “What the hell is a woman like that doin’ with a dumb redneck like Daryl Dixon?” asked Shane.

“She doesn’t seem to think he’s a dumb redneck,” replied T-Dog. “Maybe he’s not such a dumb redneck after all… Dumb redneck couldn’t get himself a lady like that.”

Carol and Lori ushered the children into their respective tents, and both women stared in wonderment at first, and then in a strange kind of envy. Not of you being with Daryl, but of the way he held you, the way he whispered in your ear and brushed through your hair, the way he held your hand and kissed your palm before nuzzling his nose against yours… Yeah, they wanted love like that.

All in all, the camp was in a state of confusion as conceptions about the younger Dixon brother seemed to be changing, all because one woman had come back into his life. Though for him, you’d never left.

“Why’s everyone staring at me?” you asked, absentmindedly trailing your fingers along the collar of his shirt, dipping down every once in a while to feel his sparse chest hairs. “Ever since I came out here they look like they’ve never seen another human being before.”

He looked around, immediately catching the eye of Dale and Glenn, who quickly averted their gaze, terrified of the abrasive man. He narrowed his eyes at them and protectively pulled you closer before kissing your forehead, almost in a subconscious display of marking his territory.

“Probably ‘cause you’re so beautiful,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes. “Guess I gotta watch my back… Make sure no one tries to steal ya from me.”

“I highly doubt anyone wants to steal me from you, Daryl,” you said. “Even if they did, there’s no way I’d ever leave you.”

“Mm,” he hummed, rubbing your back in appreciation for your words. “Good.”

Silence settled in comfortably before you spoke again, not convinced the camp was simply taken by your beauty.

“I think they can’t believe I’m your girlfriend,” you said. “They’re surprised… You didn’t tell them about me?”

He swallowed hard, afraid you would be upset with him for failing to mention you. “Guess it just never came up,” he said. “‘Sides… Didn’t need them knowin’ I got a soft spot for ya.”

You raised an eyebrow as you giggled at his words. “Oh, well, I think they know now, pumpkin.”

Whatever effect you had on Daryl, it changed him for the better. At least, he thought so, and as soon as your leg healed, the others thought so, too. Maybe Merle was right—maybe you made him soft, but he didn’t care. In a world where softness was hard to come by, where the only beautiful thing left was you, he didn’t mind if he was just a little soft.

Well, just in one little spot.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

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